Keegan

Later that night, Keegan is laying afloat on his back, staring at a bare ceiling and counting the number of nails that stick out of the roof's underside. He lives close enough to the school's pool that he can ride his bike to it within ten minutes, and he's done it enough times to know that the lock on the boy's locker room door is broken, as it has been for a long time. He's thought about telling someone to fix it, of course, but then that means he wouldn't be able to sneak in at night like this anymore. Time like this is precious to Keegan, when he can truly be alone to think.

With a splash, he kicks his feet and flips so that he is on his stomach, then dives down to the bottom of the deep end of the pool. Here in the darkness, the boy sits on the tile and closes his eyes. He recites poetry in his head, made up words that ease his coiled muscles when placed side by side, letting his anxiety and excitement run through his mind with each sentence. He thinks about Michael Bailey. Here, six feet beneath the surface in the dark, Keegan allows himself to smile. Five more days before he gets to race that boy again. Five more days to see who has gotten faster than the other.

Keegan was the one that was supposed to go to Europe to train, but he had turned it down. It was only because of Keegan that Michael was able to go to train over seas, though he never gave it much thought before. He wonders if Michael will remember it at all, or even recall Keegan in the slightest. Though he promised to race him again that night, sometimes people say things in the heat of the moment and later forget about them. With how exciting Michael's life must be now, Keegan finds it hard to imagine that he would still want to settle the old score from middle school. He may have already beaten many others who are far faster than Keegan, but he will never be able to know that. Not until they race again.

There is a muffled splash as someone jumps into the pool from above, making Keegan open his eyes. With how dark the depths of the deep-end are, he is unable to see the newcomer's face, but he is unafraid. There is only one person in the world who would know to find Keegan here in the middle of the night, only one who would be able to find his bicycle, which was hidden inside of a thick bush outside of the school.

With his lungs ready to burst after the three minute plunge, Keegan kicks off from the tile and swims back to the surface with aching ears. In the dim illumination provided by three overhead lights that were left on to ward off burglary, Keegan sees Asher.

He smiles, the single dimple on his left cheek revealing itself beneath the dull lighting. "You can't sleep," Asher says, not asking it as a question. "I saw how wound up you were earlier at practice, and when you didn't answer your phone, I knew you would be here." Asher still has his clothes on, like Keegan, and the two are now soaked through to the bone as they tread the water. "You didn't bring a change of clothes, either, right? I brought you some sweatpants and a dry shirt. It's cold outside."

In his haste to get back to the water, Keegan hadn't paid attention to how cool the air had gotten against his skin on the ride over. When his mind is occupied, he forgets to feel a lot of things that should be obvious. "Thank you." Keegan says, tipping his head back as he lets himself float on the pools surface. Though it is warm inside, the October night has teeth. Now that he thinks about it, Keegan recalls being able to see his breath in white clouds as he rode, though he doesn't think he was cold, even in his short sleeved shirt.

Asher releases a sigh that shows his contentedness as he watches Keegan close his eyes. "You're happy," He states before joining his friend in relaxing on the pool's surface. "I'm glad." A few minutes of silence pass before Asher speaks again, more serious than before. He asks a question that has been weighing on his mind since practice. "Do you think he'll be faster than you?"

Keegan blows a humorous puff of air from his nostrils, eyes still closed. Around anyone but Asher and Sarah, Keegan is cautious of how much emotion he shows, always aware of the eyes around him. He trusts his mother and friend more than anyone else in the world. "Are you losing confidence in me?" Even when he speaks normally, his voice is still hushed, always a tone softer than everyone else's. Since he was very small, Keegan has been a quiet boy.

Asher splashes Keegan with a wave of his hand. "Of course not! I just want to know what you think."

Keegan opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling for a moment, a worried expression creasing his brow. After a moment, he turns to look at his best friend as much as he can without sinking. His voice echoes around them, amplified by the quiet, mingling with the soft lapping of the pool against the tiles. "What if he does turn out to be faster?"

Asher looks back at Keegan, face serious. "If Michael turns out to be faster than you now, it's only because of that chance you gave him in middle school. If he beats you, you can always take up an international offer and train in a different country, too. Then you can race him again at an Olympic level and beat him for sure."

Keegan swallows and keeps his silence for a moment longer, letting Asher's words sink into his brain. He is so grateful to have such a supportive companion, especially one so honest. "Am I being irrational?"

Asher frowns slightly, trying to figure out where Keegan's mind drifted to in order to ask such a question. "About what? Refusing opportunities?" Keegan's silence is enough of a confirmation, so he continues. "I think it's your decision. If you don't want to go national, then that's your choice. I know you swim solely for your mom, and there's nothing wrong with that. It would be stressful for your her if you went away, right? I get why you keep saying no to opportunities, but does Sarah know about any of them?"

Keegan is quiet, thinking over his response.

Sarah is a nurse at the local hospital and works long hours so that she can pay the bills and provide for her son. She picks up extra shifts and works doubles as often as possible, and either goes to see her husband or to watch her son's swim meets when she isn't working. Keegan put himself in charge of cleaning their home, making meals, and of checking their mail box, having taken on the household responsibilities at a young age. As soon as the letters started coming, he hid them away inside of the desk in his room before his mother could find them. Sarah is too busy to worry her with things so far in the future, so the topic was never brought up.

"No." He says finally, voice even quieter than usual. His stomach aches at the thought of hiding them from his mother, but he tries to push the anxiety away by closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of the water against his skin. None of that matters yet. He will tell her, eventually. Keegan doesn't wait for Asher's silence and dunks his head beneath the surface. Momentarily, he needs to breath, not to listen to the disapproval that his friend undoubtedly feels.

Asher remains afloat on top of the pool, allowing Keegan some space beneath the water instead of pursuing him. He bobs slightly with the splash that Keegan made as he kicked himself towards the floor of the pool, and Asher stares after him with a sad expression. Asher knows how sensitive Keegan is, despite what many people think of him. Though his aqua eyes hold walls of ice in them, the heart that resides behind the cold mask is made of glass. He would never admit it, but Keegan hurt quite easily and is afraid of commitment. Whether it be committing to a college, an organization, school, or any major decision making, he avoids it for as long as possible. The only things he lets himself care about are his mother, swimming, and Asher. Anything else is outside of the bubble of priorities that he created for himself, in attempts to shield himself from pain. He has enough cracks reaching throughout his fragile heart to have taught him a lesson early in life.

After a couple of minutes, Keegan pokes his head above the surface, just enough to breathe for a moment. He watches Asher float, trying not to think about anything. His eyes focus on the ripples of water at they lap against his friend's arms and legs, feeling the coolness against his own skin. He inhales and closes his eyes, sinking back into the shadowy depths of the pool. He swims beneath the surface, concentrating on the water around him, cradling him in its familiar embrace. Water is like an antidote to the poison of his mind, and he imagines it soaking into his skin and neutralizing every thought, until he feels nothing but it's cool touch. He stays down until his lungs burn with lack of oxygen, threatening to burst, making his mind focus on nothing else, drowning out the remaining worries that are left circling his brain. He holds his breath for a few seconds more, allowing the pressure in his chest to accumulate until he feels as though it may crush him. He prefers it when he can only think about a single thing, even if that thing is his body's cry for survival. Aware of his physical limitations, Keegen finally kicks off the bottom of the pool and swims for the surface.

When he comes back up, Asher is no longer laying on his back. He treads the deep water, waiting for his friend with anxious eyes, letting out the breath he was holding when he emerges like a turtle from a pond. It is easy to tell that something is bothering Keegan, but Asher believes that he has already touched enough nerves for the night. He doesn't say anything for a few beats, not wanting to upset him any more than he already has. Asher is still having difficulty finding the right words to say, even though he was thinking of sentences to try while Keegan was under the water. It isn't often that he doesn't know what to say to his friend.

Keegan only keeps everything from his lips and up above the water, and cracks them to speak. He changes the subject, observing his friend's struggle to find the right words. "Why did you come all the way here, anyway?"

Asher cups his hands and squirts a stream of water at Keegan with a lighthearted smile, grateful that he doesn't have to struggle any longer. "I saw your bike was gone." Is his simple reply. Though he lives five minutes away from his house, despite it being three o'clock in the morning on a school night, Asher went to see Keegan. It may seem strange to others, but it is a regular occurrence for the two. Asher figured that Keegan would be too wound up to sleep with the news of the impending swim meet on Wednesday, and worrying about Keegan's anxiety kept Asher awake, as well. With times like this, the two feel better in each other's company.

Sneaking to each other's houses began when they were eight, right around the time that Keegan's father was put into jail, and Keegan began suffering from insomnia because of it. He has always slept much better with his friend nearby, and is actually able to get a few hours of unbroken dreaming in each night.

Asher's mother is a surgeon at the same hospital that Sarah works at, though they rarely see each other, as they each stay in separate wings for the majority of the time. Since his father is usually travelling far away for business and his mother is typically at the hospital at all hours, Asher nearly lives by himself. With no one around to hear him come or go, he is allowed to leave at any point in time without consequence. If his mother does happen to be home, though, she will be gone for work before Asher wakes for school. Since she no longer feels the need to check up on him before leaving, she would not notice her son's absence, anyway.

Sarah, on the other hand, is very used to seeing Asher around her house, and doesn't mind when there are two bicycles in her yard instead of one on some mornings. She is used to the way Asher and Keegan are, and how Keegan's sleep issues are quelled with his friend around. She originally did not like him over on school nights, but Keegan actually got more sleep than when Asher was at his own home. Since neither of his parents seemed to mind, and the dark circles beneath her son's eyes lightened, Sarah allowed it.

"Are you ready to head back? Your mom should be getting up soon, right?" Asher asks, floating towards the edge of the pool. "She might be mad if she catches us coming in so early."

Keegan nods and reluctantly trails after him. He does feel tired now.

The next morning, Keegan wanders to the doorway of his bedroom, wearing a T-shirt that fits him like a dress, with his curly hair still damp from the nights swim. A white cat stands between his legs, pausing to give a stretch and a yawn before giving him a rub with her head. Keegan quietly walks to the kitchen, avoiding stepping on the cat, to see that his mother's shoes and keys are missing from their place beside the door. His expression doesn't change as he glances at the sleeping figure on the living room couch.

He suppresses a cough as he starts a pot of coffee, starting to think that Asher was right; it was a little chilly last night. His chest feels heavy and his head pounds with a headache, the onset of a cold, no doubt. It doesn't matter to him, though, as long as it is taken care of before Wednesday. Keegan watches the coffee drip into its pot for a moment before padding to the bathroom. He doesn't have to look at his reflection in the mirror to know that there are dark circles beneath his eyes, so he is grateful that his mother has left for the morning already. She tends to worry when Keegan doesn't get enough sleep.

Keegan takes some aspirin before wandering back into the living room, starting to wake up a little. He hopes that the medicine will kick in before Asher wakes up. He grabs himself some clean clothes from his room before taking a hot shower, letting the steam loosen some of the tightness in his chest.

When he comes back out, Elizabeth, the sole pet of the Church household, is curled up with Asher on the couch. Keegan watches them for a moment while he rubs a towel against his head. The two boys stopped sleeping in the same bed after beginning high school, since someone may have developed the wrong impression about their relationship if they continued to share a bed. Neither of them wanted to worry their parents with any thoughts such as that, and the flooring in Keegan's home is hardwood, so sleeping on the ground in his bedroom was an uncomfortable option. Besides, with Asher sleeping just outside his room, Keegan was able to suffice with leaving his door open at night so that he could see him in the living room.

Keegan carries his dirty clothes to the laundry room and starts a load, folding the clothes that were in the dryer and separating them into their designated piles. He sets the laundry basket outside of the bathroom for Asher's clothes after his shower. He glances at the clock, wondering when he should wake him up for school.

He hides a surprise sneeze in the crook of his arm as he sets two mugs out on the counter, filling both with the fresh coffee. He adds a splash of vanilla creamer to one of them and sets it on the coffee table in front of the couch, pausing to pet the cat that snoozes, curled against Asher's stomach.

Though his mother is usually gone, the house is always immaculately clean. There are rarely dishes in the sink or clothes on the floor, because Keegan cannot stand clutter or disorganization. Even the items in the refrigerator and cupboard are straightened and organized with no spills or crumbs to be found on any surface, products arranged according to size and expiration, with the dates written neatly on a dry-erase board. Their house may be small, but they make sure it is kept in good condition. It also helps that Sarah has a gift for interior decorating, and she managed to make the tiny house seem more open and inviting with her choices of light gray paint and classic wood flooring.

Keegan pushes a pair of black frames up his nose and heads to the kitchen to make some breakfast. He washes his hands after cracking each egg into a pan on the stove top, and promptly cleans the counter where he had spilled a drop of the yolk. By the time Keegan has two plates set out with scrambled eggs and wheat toast adorning each, Asher is risen from the smell.

He sits up, looking around with half-lidded eyes. He sneezes once before leaning for the coffee that he knows will be beside him, picking Elizabeth up and setting her on the back of the couch with one hand. The cat pauses to shake her head before deciding she should also get up, since the boys keep disturbing her sleep.

"Morning," Asher mumbles, blinking and sipping his coffee. He slowly slips his feet onto the floor, letting the blanket fall from his shoulders at its own pace. He always did need a few minutes to allow the caffeine to sink in before moving around in the morning, and today is no different.

"I'll wash your clothes." Keegan says, setting the empty pans in the sink and heading into the laundry room to switch the wet clothes to the dryer, making room for Asher's dirty clothes and towel.

He reaches between the washer and dryer and fills Elizabeth's food bowl, also checking the freshness of her water and litter box. Satisfied, he places the bag of food back into it's cupboard and goes to eat his own breakfast.

Asher finishes half of his coffee before mustering the energy to go shower and brush his teeth, slowly rising from his sofa-bed as they each go about their normal morning routines. When he is finished, he tosses his clothes into the washer and starts it, used to the way that everything around his friend's house functions. He washes his clothing and picks it back up the next time he comes over, which is usually only after a day or two, and the cycle repeats. Because he is naturally broader in stature than Keegan, they can keep their clothes separate without confusion. Asher keeps his own toothbrush and extra clothes at Keegan's for times like this, which he keeps in the medicine cabinet above the bathroom sink. He could keep his own shampoo here, as well, but he's always preferred the way Keegan's smelled. He finds it comforting.

When he emerges, Keegan is already immersed in cleaning the dishes with practiced precision, scrubbing every inch of each pan and bowl with soap and a splash of bleach for extra strength. Asher observes his friend's typical habit as he sits at his stool at the island, rolling up his sleeves to eat his own breakfast. Elizabeth rubs his feet with her tail from the floor, and the place falls into it's comfortable morning noises, only interrupted by a cough from Keegan that was stifled too late. Asher pauses his fork on the way to his mouth at the abnormal sound, looking up quickly. "Are you okay?" He asks, unnecessarily concerned, lowering his eating utensil as he looses interest in his food. "You're getting sick, aren't you?"

Keegan washes and dries his chapped hands in silence, then goes to gather his homework from his bedroom. He was never one to admit to anything, especially since he should have known better than to go out without a jacket this time of year. By the time he comes out, Asher is at the sink washing his own dishes and putting them in their rightful places. "I took something," He finally says, barely audible above the water splashing into the sink. "I'll be fine."

Keegan pauses on his way back to the kitchen to brows one of the bookshelves that line the wall, gently nudging a newly finished novel back into its place. He started reading his father's newspaper at the age of four, and that is when his love of literature was discovered. Sarah made sure to have bookshelves built into two of the living room walls when they bought their home, and there is hardly a place to squeeze any more novels onto them. He tilts his head as he brushed his fingers over each spine, pausing as a title catches his eye. He takes it from the shelf and wordlessly puts it into his school bag with his finished work.

"You should have your own library," Asher comments, looking over his shoulder with a knowing smile. "You're going to run out of space soon."

Keegan shrugs, bending to pick Elizabeth up. The white cat purrs and rubs her head against his chin as he strokes her, grateful for the affection Keegan is showing her. Keegan closes his eyes and rubs his cheek against her fur, mentally preparing himself for the school day. He won't be able to hide that he is sick from Sarah if she sees him, and he knows better than hope it will just go away before she comes home. Maybe he'll be able to feign sleep to avoid the conversation.

He holds on to his cat until Asher has finished gathering his school bag, then gives her one last stroke before reluctantly setting her onto the shining wooden floor. Asher bends to say goodbye, as well, before slipping his sneakers onto his feet at the front of the door.

Keegan feels increasingly worse throughout the day, hardly touching his food at lunch and having trouble focusing in all of his classes. He tried to read his book in his free time, but the words seemed to blur behind his glasses and the pages seemed too bright to look at. By the time the final bell rings to end the school day, he is exhausted and his headache is back, pounding painfully behind his cerulean eyes.

When Asher meets Keegan at the bike rack outside of the building, he frowns immediately reaches for his forehead. He hadn't seen his friend since their third class, because Keegan is placed in all of the advanced curriculums that the school offers, and the only common classes he attends are physical education and lunch. "You have a fever." He states, brow creased in concern.

Keegan doesn't realize how close his friend's face is to his own until he notices that people are beginning to cast curious glances their way. Keegan tiredly swats Asher's hand away from his skin and takes a step back. "I'm fine," He mumbles, taking his bike from the rack, hoping his words will be enough to quell Asher's concern. "Let's go."

They begin on their way towards Keegan's, riding in silence until they reach his drive. Because Keegan lives so near to the school, they typically spend their time after classes at his house until practice begins at four o'clock. Keegan remains quiet as he props his bicycle up on it's kickstand beside the walk way, and steps onto the small front porch. He finds his house keys in a pocket in his backpack and uses them to unlock the front door. He tiredly stuffs the lanyard back into its pouch and zips it closed, sitting down on the bench that sides beside the doorway to slip off his clean shoes. He stands and walks quietly into the kitchen in his pristinely white socks, pausing to set his backpack on his designated chair at the island.

Asher watches as Keegan shuffles to the couch and sits, leaning his head back. He turns his head as Elizabeth, who had been napping on the back of it, greets him with the gentle nudge of her nose against his.

Asher slips his shoes off and sets them neatly beside Keegan's, before walking to the stove to start the tea kettle. Taking his friend's abnormal behavior as a sign, he leaves Keegan on the couch with Elizabeth while he ensues the roll of caregiver, gathering medicine and pouring some hot tea into a mug. Keegan never sits on the couch without doing his schoolwork first, and he always finishes it before practice.

"You're not swimming today." Asher says finally, setting the tea on the coffee table.

Keegan glances up at him, taking the pills from his friend's outstretched hand and tipping them back into his mouth. He doesn't say anything, just maintains eye contact with a slightly raised brow. He dry swallows the medicine and adjusts his glasses before drawing his knees to his chest. Asher says that every time Keegan gets sick, with no avail. He fully intends to swim, just as he always does. He is never too ill to swim. "I'll be fine." He insists again, though the ever darkening circles behind his glasses tell a different story.

Asher sighs, knowing that his words won't prevent his friend from coming to practice, just as they never have. Keegan's unwavering stubbornness is one of the better qualities he inherited from his father, along with his blue eyes. "Did you at least eat any lunch?"

Keegan rests his chin on his knee, petting Elizabeth as she lays on the arm of the couch beside him. "A little."

"So, that's a no," Asher interprets with a motherly sigh, walking to the kitchen to knowingly retrieve Keegan's book from his school bag. "I'll make you a snack. What do you want?"

Keegan frowns slightly, reaching for his tea. He is not actually hungry, but he knows that if he says he doesn't want to eat, that Asher will worry even more about him. He is a lot like a mother hen, Keegan realizes as he blows some steam from the tea's hot surface, taking his book from Asher. "Anything is fine." He mutters, setting the book in his lap, leaning once more against the back of the couch, lids fighting exhaustion.

Asher looks down from where he stands behind him, eyes soft. He gives a slight smile and shakes his head, turning back to the kitchen. "Soup and crackers, then."

Keegan shifts so that he can look at him over the couch. "You said a snack."

Asher looks with a raised brow over one of his broad shoulders. "And I also said you aren't swimming. Since you're not going to listen to me about that, you at least need to eat something substantial, more than half an apple," He purses his lips slightly and turns back around to find the soup cans in the pantry. "You have to take care of your body, especially if you plan to win on Wednesday," He retrieves a can and reads the Nutrition Facts before nodding his approval and setting it down on the granite countertop. He turns back to look at Keegan with a playful smile. "You wouldn't let my effort go to waste, would you?"

With a subtle pout, Keegan turns back around and sits back into the cushion. "Just... don't make a mess." He tappers off, sipping from his mug. He snatches Asher's blanket that had been neatly folded across the back of the couch, and drapes it across his legs as he settles his back against the arm rest. Elizabeth meows from the between Asher's feet in the kitchen, before trotting over to the couch to jump onto Keegan's lap. He cracks open his book, setting the scrap of paper he had been using as a marker on the coffee table, then ensues Elizabeth's petting. "Have you been good today?" He asks, voice hardly a whisper as his eyes scan the words before the lenses of his glasses.

The cat purrs at his touch, then gives a soft, conversational meow, as if to say, "Of course".

Keegan strokes her head with a thumb and stifles a cough, pausing the petting to turn a page. "Of course, I know you have." He whispers, allowing the familiar weight of her body on his lap to sooth him. Though Keegan's voice is not meant to be heard, Asher smiles to himself as he listens, stirring the soup as it heats on the stovetop.

By the time the soup is steaming and in a bowl, Asher has assumed that Keegan has become engrossed in his book, since he stopped talking with Elizabeth. He quietly arranges some crackers on a separate plate before carrying the food over to the coffee table. When he sees the book resting face down on Keegan's steadily rising and falling chest, he smiles and quietly sets the bowl and plate down beside the empty tea cup. Keegan holds a finger to his lips as Elizabeth looks up at him from her master's lap, sapphire eyes blinking.

Asher fixes the blanket so that Keegan's foot is no longer poking out from it, and glances up at his friend's face. When he is asleep, Keegan looks very different. He looks younger with his expression relaxed, no longer wearing the guarded mask he puts into place when he is at school or around other people. He looks more like a boy, and less like a cold and wary soldier.

As Asher leans over to carefully slip the black frames from his friend's face, he realizes how blessed he is to be able to be so familiar with this side of his friend. He knows that he is very special in order to have the role that he does in Keegan's life, and he can't help the happiness it makes him feel. He feels important, needed. He would not trade their friendship for anything in the world.

Asher grabs the empty tea cup from the glass table, and sneaks into the kitchen to wash the dishes and thoroughly clean up the mess he made. He remains as quiet as possible as he goes about, drying and putting away dishes before grabbing his swimming shorts from the dryer and neatly placing them into his backpack. He takes a piece of paper from a note pad that hangs off of the fridge and searches through the zippers of his school bag for a pen.

I'll be back later.

-Ash

He scrawls, then slips the paper beneath the bowl of soup before taking another glance at his friend. Keegan's hair is getting long, he realizes, observing the way the curled tendrils fall into his closed eyes, strands mingling with his dark lashes. Asher gives a fond smile and heads for the door, slinging his pack over his shoulder. He is quiet in turning the lock and shutting the door before heading to practice, leaving his friend to sleep through it.