In all fairness, Alex mused, the other boy had been justified in getting angry and being less than polite. The poor thing had seemed flustered enough as it was anyway – his standing there, watching like it was a circus (which it kind of had, if he was brutally honest) had been borderline cruel. And he hadn't helped the situation by his actions, either...
It had just been so funny! He, Alex, had been drawn to the 'scene' because of the unmistakable, incessant mewling of what could only be Mrs. Johnson's litter of kittens, and when he'd arrived at the scene, the reason for the chaos had become apparent. Standing right in the middle of her perfectly-watered lawn stood a boy, slightly shorter than himself, with dark hair, looking positively bewildered as he struggled to balance two kittens bundled in his arms, with a third attempting to scale his leg, and yet another trio battling the dustbin that now lay toppled over near the mailbox. None of them was silent.
Alex had watched, a growing smile playing onto his lips of its own accord, as the other boy attempted to move, earning him an even louder yowl from the furball on his leg. He'd fumbled to get it off, but this in turn displeasured one of the kittens he'd been cradling, and he winced as it drew its nails across his forearm to convey the same.
"Hey, come on! Cut me some slack here!" he'd protested.
Of course the cat hadn't understood him, but it had chosen precisely that moment to leap off him – presumably no longer happy with its 'captor' – disturbing his balance and causing him to drop its sibling in the process.
"Hey! I just got you off there!" the boy had grumbled again – and this was the point that he realized he had an audience.
Their eyes had met, then the catsitter flushed visibly, turning away quickly, clearly embarrassed.
Which was when Alex had realized two things – one, that he'd been staring, and two, that it had been with what was now a full-blown smirk on his face. That more than accounted for the other boy's reaction.
"I'm sorry," he'd called out, "do you need any help?" he'd started to cross the street to access the lawn, but just as he reached close enough to be within earshot, the kitten on the boy's leg mewled loudly in response to the boy's attempt to get it off, and Alex had laughed.
"I'm fine, thanks," the boy had snapped, pointedly turning so that his back now faced Alex.
Alex had felt bad then. "Here, let me." He'd mumbled, approaching the mess, and carefully picked up the little one that had been on its way to pounce on the tail of his companion's jacket. It protested, clawing at him in resistance, but Alex had been unfazed.
"I think it'll be easier if you just put a bowl of milk out here." But as soon as the suggestion had passed out his mouth, he knew he'd made a mistake – his voice had sounded unnecessarily, unintentionally condescending – and surely enough, the other boy's face had snapped up to look at him straight in the eye.
He'd responded without missing a beat. "Thanks, genius. Think you can help me out by telling me what you think those are?"
Alex had followed the direction of the cat-sitter's pointed finger, and seen the troughs – plural – of milk already laid out.
"Oh."
"Yeah." And then the boy had turned his attention back to the litter, and spoken again, softly, half to himself. "I think they're just restless because their mom's at the vet's." After which he'd softly stroked the head of one of the kittens, then stood up and disappeared into the house without uttering another word.
He'd emerged a few moments later, with a few soft toys gathered up in his hands.
Alex had simply watched, intrigued, impressed, as the boy put the toys down and proceeded to firmly, albeit gently, pick up each of the protesting kittens one by one and place them near their milk and toys. Within minutes, they had been pacified.
"Wow." Alex attempted what he hoped would be read as a friendly, approving smile. "Good job."
"Thanks." The stranger had rolled his eyes, but there had been a smile on his face, too.
Following which had been an awkward moment of silence as either teen studied the other, and another as the shorter boy started to turn away again, presumably to pick up the garbage the little ones had strewn all over.
Alex had found his brain – and voice – then. "I'm Alex, by the way. What's your name?"
He'd hesitated before responding. "Kieran."
"Kitten? What a coincidence!"
"No, I said-" and then he'd realized that Alex had just been messing with him, and scowled. "Screw you."
*
The reason their interaction was less-than-ideal the next time they met was also Alex's fault, in as much as it had been completely unintentional. He'd just been so surprised to see him there! It was like one of those stories his sister kept reading online on that site, Notepadd, was it? Where within a short time of meeting someone new and intriguing, because Alex was the type not to easily use more accurate adjectives, the protagonist, himself in this case, met the person at school. Precisely two weeks after their encounter on Mrs. Johnson's lawn, Alex caught site of Kieran in school. He hadn't been sure at first, but as he got a better view of the boy walking down the corridor, he'd been convinced. And surprised – even though there wasn't any way for him to keep track of everyone enrolled in the same school as him.
It was only when Kieran had passed him though, oblivious to his presence as he talked to his friends, that Alex had found his voice.
"Kieran?" he'd tried.
The other boy hadn't reacted. Probably hadn't heard him.
Alex decided to follow.
"Kieran?" he'd called again, and this time the boy had stopped, but it was only momentarily. He, Kieran, had looked around for a moment, seemingly confused, then shaken his head and kept walking.
As he would come to learn much later, this was because Kieran hadn't been sure of whether or not he had heard his name being called out, but in that moment, Alex had been convinced that Kieran had in fact seen him, and chosen to ignore him. Perhaps it was because Kieran wasn't even his real name! He had hesitated before giving his name, after all...
Determined, Alex had closed the gap between them, then loudly called out. "Kitten?"
And that was how Alex ended up lighting a fire that would spread to, and alight, the bridge-to-Kieran.
*
It was after about the second 'incident' that Alex started to suspect that Kieran was holding a long-term grudge. The first time, the following day, they'd crossed paths again, this time as Kieran was leaving and Alex entering the gymnasium. This time, there was no doubt that Kieran had seen him, nor was there any mistaking how his gaze has slid off the other boy, loaded with a message – don't talk to me.
And given that it had just been one day, Alex had obliged, although he did still offer an apologetic smile. He would learn later that hot-headed Kieran had read this gesture to be a condescending sneer, but in that moment he didn't make much of Kieran's deliberate dismissal of him. The whole Kitten incident had certainly justified it – right after Alex had called, the entire ensemble had frozen, and a thoroughly bewildered Kieran had whirled around. The expression had remained on his face for approximately two seconds – then he'd identified the owner of the voice – and his face had hardened.
"I'm not-" he'd started to say, but before he could get any further, one of his friends interrupted him with a shrill imitation of the offending nickname.
He'd cringed visibly at the 'Kitten?', then reddened further as his friends burst into laughter. This, in turn, had drawn the attention of nearby passers-by, and a now-completely-embarrassed Kieran had asked to be excused.
"No kitty! Come back!" another of his friends had teased, and this time even the spectators, as ignorant to the joke as they had been, had joined in with the laughter.
The second time, however, was about two weeks later – a point by which everything should have blown over, in Alex's opinion.
The duo were in the canteen, along with the rest of the lunch-buyers. As luck, or maybe Lady Fate, would have it, they were among the four who would have to wait for the freshest batch of sandwiches to come off because the canteen had run out. Till that point, neither had seemed to be aware of each other's presence – it was only as they stepped aside to give others room to buy that the realization struck them. The coldness, and more specifically, how quickly it had set in Kieran's eyes, had been undeniable. He'd averted his gaze immediately, hastily grabbed the sandwich that was presented to him, turned heel, and stomped off.
Alex was both mildly amused and slightly concerned by the same thought – he's still mad about it.
*
It didn't happen as frequently as Alex would have liked, but Kieran made no attempt to mask his animosity towards the taller boy whenever their paths crossed. In some ways, Kieran was amazed by himself – he wasn't a spiteful or vicious person! Yet, every time he saw Alex, his blood boiled. It was the reminder of how easily Alex had shoved him back into the pit he'd struggled to get out of, he figured. And yes, he knew that what Alex had done hadn't been intentional, and if things had played out any differently he might have thought it to be funny, cute, even, but alas.
How long had it been before his father would even sit at the same table with him after he'd announced he wanted to be a vetenary doctor, and not a veteran of war, like him? And this was after his father had practically severed ties with his only sister because she didn't approve of him being gay. Just when he'd finally, finally, started to convince the family that he could, and would, make them proud, Alex had happened, with his stupid Kitten mockery. He'd begged his younger brother not to breathe a word of this incident at home, but of course Joseph hadn't let it slide, and Kieran was brought back to square one, with everyone firmly convinced that his career choice would earn him nothing but mockery.
And when he'd desperately tried to explain that no, the boy hadn't known of his career plans and it was only because of the Mrs. Johnson episode – 'But that's what everyone will see, isn't it?'
Yet it made Kieran uncomfortable to think that he was petty and spiteful, so to prove to himself this wasn't the case, he didn't hesitate to stop his car and offer Alex a getaway when the cops raided the Pieterson party.
The taller boy's confusion was understandable. "Not that I'm not grateful or anything," he started, still a little dazed from the adrenalin rush, "but how comes you're helping me?"
"Just because I hate you doesn't mean I'd let your life get ruined and just watch." The words had come out of their own accord – with no conscious thought behind it – and Kieran himself was taken aback. Surely, that had been way too strong – was he really that petty?
"Hate? Isn't that kind of extreme?"
And that was it. Kieran's temper flared – charring with it any thoughts of making peace – because where Alex's question/statement had ended, Kieran had heard the words left hanging. 'Isn't that kind of extreme over a simple nickname?'
Go to hell, Kieran thought bitterly, you don't even know what you've done. Out loud though, he retorted with a question in return. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings?"
"I-" Alex felt disoriented. Where he'd sensed some sort of calm and amicability, almost, in his companion, now he detected pure venom. How had that happened so quickly?
"Well forgive me for not being some great saint for not liking people who make a joke out of me." Kieran continued.
"You hate me because of that?"
Alex's intention had been to pick on the transition from hate to 'not like' Kieran had shifted to, but as soon as he said it, he realized it was a mistake. There was another way to take the question, and of course Kieran had taken it – that Alex was belittling his strong reaction.
"It doesn't even matter to you, does it?" he hissed angrily. "Just get out."
"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I-"
"Just leave. And don't talk to me again."
*
And that was how they made it to the end of high school, two months later, having never exchanged another word. It wasn't that Alex hadn't tried though – after that night, he'd looked up Kieran on Facebook and messaged him – and many times after that, always with a sorry, but Kieran had simply ignored him.
Not that it was all rage-driven, as he would confess to Alex someday. The first message, yes, he'd deleted out of anger in response to how humiliated he'd felt when he thought Alex was calling out his petulance, his BS, because that's what it really had been, but after that...it was because Joseph had seen the second message. And his brother was smart like that – he'd quickly done the math and figured that Alex was 'the kitten guy' (to Kieran's chagrin), then proceeded to demand loudly whether they had a thing going on between them. 'Loudly' was a key factor here, because his mother had heard, and Kieran hadn't missed the falter in her smile upon being reminded of how much of a disappointment her son was. Of course he'd fought it – even harder than before, in fact.
At the time that Alex held Kieran's yearbook, however – and how it had come to him in all the mess he would never know – he was unaware of all of this. All he knew was that this was his last chance to step up, say all that he'd really wanted to, and maybe, hopefully, move on.
He inhaled deeply, and began.
Hey...Kieran.
You're probably really sick of hearing this from me, but maybe this time it'll help that this time I'm not just saying sorry because of the whole...nickname thing gone wrong? This time, I'm apologizing in advance for what I'm about to do, which is to tell you something that'll probably make you feel real shitty, though please try not to – that's not why I'm doing this. I'm not mad that you never replied to me or anything, by the way – it's a free world, and you're allowed to dislike someone without having to justify yourself...though now I'm just getting off point. I'll just put for the record that I'm doing this only because I don't have the courage, or will, to step into the uni life without having got it off my chest.
'It' being that I called you Kitten only because I thought it was cute, creative, and, like, that's the kind of impression you want to give someone that's caught your eye, right? Er...yeah. That's kind of been going on with me. Don't get weirded out that I'm not...exactly, straight, and...yeah, even though we never really got to know each other much. I mean, I did kind of learn that you're a legend at Biology and you make one hell of a chili (I'm assuming that's how you won the contest), and a couple of other things, but it would have been nicer if it had been when we were at lunch or dinner or coffee or ice-cream and gotten to know which of those you'd prefer...but, oh well.
I just wanted you to know.
Best wishes.
Alex.
*
After one hell of a year at university, it was good to be home. It felt great to sleep in, not worry about assignments, not have to cook...yes, Alex was happy. Heck, he didn't even mind that he was charged with the duty of taking Fido to the clinic halfway across town!
Even the queue, somewhat surprising given the time of year, didn't faze him.
What did, however, was the voice he heard floating over the crowd – and noisy animals.
"Hello ma'am. What seems to be the problem with this little guy?"
There was no mistaking it – he knew that voice so well, as little as they'd ever spoken – but he still felt the urgency to shift about and confirm it.
Sure enough, at the main desk, stood a dark haired, slightly-shorter-than-himself boy, cloaked in a white lab coat with the badge 'Assistant' pinned to it.
If it weren't for the fact that Fido was sick, Alex would have left – he was sure of it. How was he going to face the other boy? Precisely six days after he'd made his deep dark confession to the other boy, he'd received a message on Facebook. It hadn't been much, just a simple 'I'm sorry for being a jerk; it really wasn't your fault. Peace?', but it had been enough to set a conversation going, as awkward and painful as it was, initially. As the months had passed, however, things had normalized, somewhat, with it becoming second nature for either boy to send the other a funny picture they'd seen, and then they'd progressed to longer, deeper, and more meaningful conversations about their plans and thoughts and opinions that had Alex regret having never had the chance to know this amazing, amazing person properly...but never once had Kieran addressed that part of Alex's message where he'd made the confession about how he really felt about Kieran. And although the curiosity naggled at him multiple times, of course Alex hadn't been stupid enough to bring it up – it was clear as day that Kieran had read all of it (evidenced by the chili recipe he sent over one day) and had deliberately avoided the matter.
We'll probably never see each other again, so it's just as well.
But now here he was!
Alex swallowed nervously as the queue moved further. Suddenly he wished there were more people between him and the main desk.
"Hello ma'am. My name is Kieran. How can I help you today?"
His heart started to pick up pace.
"Good morning sir. I'm Kieran. How can I assist you?"
He'd just play it cool, he decided. It had been almost a year, anyway, and it wasn't a big deal...
"Hey, hello there buddy! What's wrong? Ma'am, if you'd just fill out this form for me, that'd be great."
But it was!
"Hello sir. My name is Kieran. How can I be of assistance today?"
Because nothing had changed.
"Hey there. I'm Kieran. How can I help ya?"
Absolutely nothing. His eyes were still just as bright and blue as Alex remembered them to be.
'Maybe he'll pretend he doesn't know me and-' Kieran's smile of acknowledgement, and the flicker of recognition in his eyes that accompanied it did not allow Alex to even complete the thought – it had been futile, wishful thinking.
"Hi," he choked out, the butterflies in his stomach working up a whirlwind.
"Hey. My name is Kieran," he started, much to Alex's confusion, "but you can call me...if you do still want to call me, I mean..." his voice was barely audible, "Kitten."
Thanks for reading! :)
It's been...a while, haha, I tried though (and can I add in a format I haven't used much before?). I'd love it if you'd take the time to tell me what you think!