Coming Up Next (Patreon)

Goal for this one is later this week. I have much more written than this, but c'mon, I can't show you everything just yet...

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It was an off year. That’s what Kyle Jackson called them: off years. Those were the years when his family moved to a new place and he didn’t know anybody again. When your dad was in the military, it was just a part of life. Every two years, a new house. There were a few boxes in the basement that hadn’t been unpacked since Kyle was a kid; they just got chucked back into the moving van, untouched, and schlepped to the next place. Their sides were a running log of all the family addresses.

The good news was that it had been decided that there would be no more moves for Kyle. When his dad relocated in another two years, Kyle and his mom would stay behind so Kyle could graduate from the school he was now attending. The bad news was that the latest move plopped Kyle into a new town on the eve of his 16th birthday. Which was why, instead of a house full of friends, there was a house full of random adults who knew one or both of Kyle’s parents. It was summertime and he hadn’t met many kids his own age yet. There was one attendee, Ben, who was close to his own age, but they’d only hung out twice and Ben was just 13. Kyle didn’t sense that they had much in common aside from living next door to each other.

Ben was probably there for the cake, anyway, Kyle reasoned. Cake and presents were the saving graces of the day, motivating Kyle to push through all the awkward interactions. Since his parents were new to the area too, no one at the party knew each other that well. The guests were mostly new colleagues or neighbors, and Kyle resented having to make small talk at his own birthday party. It was par for the course for a military brat, but he was over it. He kept retreating to the first floor bathroom for fifteen minute stretches just to be on his phone and have a breather before going back out and meeting someone else or forcing more interaction with Ben.

He was sitting on the toilet - seat closed, pants on - when someone tried the handle. Kyle was mid-game and didn’t get up, but two minutes later there was a knock, so he stood with a sigh before remembering to flush the toilet and turn on the sink so that whoever was in the hall would believe he was really using the bathroom. After what seemed like a convincing amount of time, he opened the door.

“Well, you must be the birthday boy,” said an old man standing in the hall. He was about Kyle’s height, but bald and paunchy in contrast to Kyle’s thick auburn hair and slim build. “I’m Frank Simmons, I live down the street.”

“Hey, uh, yeah. Sorry to make you wait.” Kyle realized he should introduce himself, so he added “I’m Kyle” onto the end.

“Oh no no, I didn’t mean to rush you, I just wasn’t sure if the door was sticking. Not as strong as I used to be.”

“Right,” Kyle nodded, unsure what to say. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Frank smiled and shut the door, and Kyle wandered back into the party. He hadn’t gotten a chance to go to many teen parties, but he knew they weren’t like this. Teenage parties probably had more junk food, for one, and loud music, and people kissing. That sounded like fun. Kyle hadn’t had a real kiss before. And he certainly wasn’t going to get one here, which was just a bunch of adults sitting around talking in polite voices. What a snooze. He wished something eventful would happen. Or that at least he could be surrounded by people his own age for once.