Keenan’s hands work expertly at the muscles on my calves, moving up behind my knees, his fingers and palms soothing the aches.
“Holy crap, how are you so good at that?” I ask him, opening my eyes, watching as he works away.
His expression suddenly shifts from sombre concentration, to troubled and a little alarmed. He tears his hands from my legs as though afraid of catching something. Confused, I watch as he stands and takes a step back, his expression chagrined.
“Keenan?” I whisper, bewildered by the guilty look on his face.
“It’s fine, Sunshine. Just… just do your stretches. I’ll get you some water.” He turns away, jumping down from the stage. I did as he said, moving into a front split and bent my torso down until my nose touched my knee. He was right. I shouldn’t be careless about this. It was a stupid decision on my part to skip stretching. I guess I figured the walk home would be enough. I was wrong.
I feel him tap the back of my head and I right myself as he hands me a bottle of water. “Thanks.” I smile up at him. He doesn’t say anything as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his dark grey leather cut, still looking a little perturbed. I couldn’t take the strained silence any longer, and after drinking half the bottle, I screwed the cap back on and got to my feet. “I’m ready to try again.”
His frown shifts into that crooked grin of his that I love so much. “Okay. Don’t fuck it up this time.” He moves away, heading back to his chair in the front row and starts digging through the black backpack he always brings with him. As per our after-rehearsal ritual, he gets out the snacks he always brings with him, setting down the containers and packages on a small towel that he lays out on the floor. Today, it’s homemade turkey sandwiches, some apples, plus a bag of jerky for him, and a container with a mixed green salad for me, all made by him. The fact that he does this every time we get together is so incredibly touching and thoughtful.
Keenan knows that sometimes when I get home at the end of the day, the house is empty. Shay and James are working but Mum… God only knows where she is. Though I’ve assured him time and time again that I’m fine and can cook for myself, he still brings something along with him to share with me. He always finds little ways to spoil me, but it doesn’t feel like he’s forcing it, or even bothered by it.
One day, I scraped my knee on the stage after a bad fall. The next time we met up here, he brought a first aid kit which he stashed away, hidden in the mess behind the dusty old curtains in the back, for any future cuts and scratches. Another time, I mentioned how frustrating it was practicing using the music on my phone. It was out of date and Shay refused to get me a new one. He claimed all I really needed one for was to get a hold of him. The next week, Keenan gave me a fancy new player, loaded with all the songs I liked to dance to. While I rehearsed, he manned it, pausing it when I needed, or restarting it if I had to go again.
When I’ve gone through my routine for about the fiftieth time, I’m sweating and a little shaky, my body about ready to give out. Keenan makes me go through my stretches before he allows me to join him on the floor before the stage to munch on the small meal he brought for us.
“So, what costume have you chosen for the Halloween dance, Sunshine?” he asks as he takes a bite out of his sandwich. I told him last week about the dance at my school that I was hoping to attend with my friends. He’d been all for it, and we spent the better part of a Sunday afternoon brainstorming on costume ideas.
“I really like the ‘leftover’ suggestion you had,” I said, digging into my salad.
He chuckles under his breath. “You won’t regret it, I promise you. No one else will have anything like it. You’ll stand out, for sure.”
“I still don’t understand how you came up with it.” I snigger.
Keenan shrugs, trying to look casual and detached. “When I was a kid, we didn’t have much money, love. I had to make do with whatever I could find around the house…”
My head snaps up at that. I was trying to picture him, little Key, a small boy with bright blue eyes and blond hair, alone in his trailer while his dad was at the club and his mother… well, that was another story. He was often left to fend for himself. I tried to imagine him scrambling through his house as a kid, searching for something that could pass as a costume so he could go trick or treating and get a bunch of candy. It broke my heart.
If he was Shay, he would want me to coddle him. To wrap my arms around his neck and hold him while he battled the darkness in his mind. Not Keenan. No, he sat there, munching away on his meal, looking as though he didn’t have a care in the world. But I could sense the deflection, the ruse. He did hurt. He just never openly talked about it with anyone. Apparently, I’m the only one he’s ever spoken about his mother to. Why he opened up to me, I have no idea, but I took that olive branch that he extended my way and clung to it fiercely.
God damn drugs… The fucking Faceless… As if I didn’t have enough of a reason to hate the whole gang aspect. And seriously, FUCK addiction… fuck it! I thought furiously as thoughts of my own mother stormed to the forefront of my mind.
Keenan’s bright blue gaze flickered up and caught me staring at him wistfully, and he made a face, his lips pursing, and shook his head at me. “Don’t, Mina.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t pity me.”
“I-”
“Tell me about what Becky and Ainsley are going to wear… what was it? A sexy smurf and a sexy drainpipe or something?”
I sigh and shake my head at him. He does this every time a little piece of himself slips through his tough facade. He turns the conversation to something ridiculous, hoping it will distract me. But I know better. I know it’s because he’s uncomfortable. I let him believe that it’s worked and correct him. Becca is going as a sexy My Little Pony, and Ashley is going as a sexy Tin Man. I really don’t know where they come up with this stuff...
“Where the hell have you been?” Shay steps out onto the porch as I stroll around the corner of the long driveway leading up to the house. The whole area is surrounded by trees and woods, so when the house finally comes into view, Shay is out the front door, waiting for me and looking absolutely livid. The sun had set about twenty minutes ago but there was still a little light left in the sky that I could easily watch my step on the uneven dirt drive. Keenan had dropped me off after we had lingered for a little too long at the theatre, though it was a little way down the road, just to be cautious. He had watched as I headed up the drive to my home. When I looked back, he was still there, sitting in his charcoal SUV, keeping an eye out for me. He gave me a little wave, which I returned, and then I rounded the corner, disappearing from his view. The moment I lost sight of him, I felt a pang in my chest that I’d never felt before. Huh, wonder what that was all about? Shaking it off, I fought back a smile the entire walk up to the house.
“I was practicing,” I said. It was a half-lie, but even so, I kept my gaze on the ground. I hated lying to anyone, and I was terrible at it. Shay was so observant, he easily picked up on it when I did, even when I thought I was doing a good job at concealing certain truths from him.
“You’re supposed to be home by six. It’s 6:45, Mina!” he scolded. “I was about to tear apart the town looking for you!”