Strings Attached

Chapter Three

Elliott is sitting on a swing in his school's playground. His sneaker covered feet drag across the wood chips as he moves, going so slowly that it seems like the slight breeze is pushing him, and his small shoulders are hunched together. It kills me to know what's bothering him so much and not being able to do a single thing about it. I can't stop him from seeing all his friends and classmates being picked up by their parents, leaving him to still hope that his own will be the next ones to walk through the door.

I sit in the swing next to him. "Hey, El," I say softly.

He looks up at me with those large brown eyes of his and appears as if he's struggling not to cry. My heart breaks because, something that I've learned quickly over these past months, Elliott's heart is my heart; I can't pick out a certain point where he became more than just my adorable yet slightly irritating little brother.

"Can I tell you something?" Elliott nods, a lone curl falling into his eyes. Brushing the lock back into place, pleasantly surprised that he doesn't slap my hand away, I continues, "You're my favorite second grader on the planet, E-Walk, and I intend on celebrating your first day. What do you want to do?"

A smile tugs at Elliott's lips when I use an old nickname I came up with after watching "The Return of the Jedi" for the first time. I mean, it fit Elliott, who was a toddler at the time perfectly; it worked with his given name, and he was cute and cuddly, making him my personal teddy bear.

His brows furrow together as he thinks about what he wants, momentarily distracted from his heartbreak. I can see his three epic loves—soccer, going to the library, and watching Star Wars— fighting for dominance in his focused expression. The way his face is scrunched up in thought and how he mumbles his thought process out loud makes me smile. This is the happy, go-lucky little boy I know and love, the little boy I will hang onto as long as possible.

I know his decision before he does—I can see it in his eyes. "Can we play soccer?"

"Of course we can, El," I answer, ignoring the bittersweet feeling the sport gives me. I knew what I was getting into when I asked Elliott what he wanted to do. After all, he's his mother's son, and in that respect, all three of us are. Soccer isn't just something we play; it is part of who we are. Or who you were, I correct myself.

I text Austin: Playing soccer with El. Wanna join?

Okay. Meet you at the park, he responds a few moments later, filling me with relief. He might act like he wants nothing to do with us at times, but he always pulls through when it really counts. Austin has a bigger heart than his moody attitude might suggest.

Awesome! Bring the ball please.

Elliott watches me as I put my phone away. "Austin's going to join us," I announce with entirely genuine enthusiasm. 

"Let's go!" he declares, pulling on my arm. If he smiles any wider, than his face might crack on two. His backpack bounces on his shoulders as he hurries along and drags me behind, and I can't help but watch him with amusement. I can tell he's more excited to play soccer with Austin than simply playing the game; I know he's missed his brother over the past few months.

"How was school, Elliott?" I ask carefully.

He doesn't even look back at me when he speaks, too focused on getting to the park quickly. "Felix and I are both in Mrs. Lin's class. She put in a seat next to this girl named Willa, though, and Felix is on the opposite side of the room. Willa is weird. She kept smiling at me but she smells like cherries," he informs me. I can see a boyish pout take hold of his mouth.