Page 12 of Solo Stan

Kai

“He was making fun of me,” Kai muttered as he darted into the house, past his parents, and up to his room.

Elias never wanted to be friends; all he wanted to do was piss off Moodie. Well, he did, and he pissed off Kai too.

Kai took his frustration out on the air, beating his fists against it in a most uncoordinated fashion, when, finally, his anger converged on the candle he’d lit the day before.

He had blown it out before going to bed last night, but something about it just being there was offensive.

It was mocking him just like Elias was mocking him.

With a swift motion, he grabbed it from the nightstand and bounded back down the stairs, his parents’ eyes following him as he charged through the living room and right outside into the backyard.

In an instant, he had brought the candle down hard in the center of the cobblestone patio and was blasting it with the highest setting on the hose.

Mama forced open the window behind him, poking her head out and asking, “Baby, what are you doing?”

“Putting out a candle,” he answered as he continued spraying the candle until it fell over and rolled away. He chased it with the hose, pushing it farther into the garden.

Mama’s voice was kind and patient as she asked, “What happened?”

“A boy.”

“Should I get the fire extinguisher?”

He considered it a moment before he shouted, “No, it’s okay, Ma!” over the noise of the water stream.

Mama nodded and yanked the finicky window shut.

Kai charged through the living room once again and shut the door to his bedroom, muttering to himself, “I don’t need Bobby or Winter or Emmy, or especially Elias, to have fun. I’ll go to the concert alone.”

Chasing the candle around the garden certainly made him feel better, but it didn’t solve the pressing matter at hand: The concert was within two hours, and he still had two tickets.

Hunched over his father’s laptop, he posted one of the tickets for sale.

It was a single seat, and not even on the floor, so it was unlikely to sell, but he was out a few hundred dollars from this failed venture and wanted to recoup as much of the funds as possible.

His finger hovered over the mouse as he impatiently refreshed the page every few seconds.

He barely waited for it to reload before he pressed it again and again, his eyes doing rounds with the circle loading symbol.

After several moments of this, a notification chime alerted Kai that the ticket to the sold-out show had indeed gone.

Another solo attendee, Kai thought. Perhaps they could be alone together. Unless they bought their ticket specifically to be alone.

He was overthinking it, as usual. Sometimes, for shows like these, people did go with their friends but ended up sitting in separate seats because they couldn’t find two next to each other.

Putting away the laptop, he stood in front of his full-length mirror, trying on every single T-shirt he owned, only to discard them in a pile on the floor.

He was left with one option—the last shirt hanging—because no son of his mother was about to wear a shirt off the floor.

He sprayed himself with cologne, just as his father had taught him—wrists, inner elbows, behind the knees, jugular—which sounded more like a self-defense combination.

All that remained were his shoes, which he dangled from two fingers as he rejoined his parents at the dinner table, where they were having a date night. Hiking his leg up, he leaned his knee against the edge of the table so he could reach his laces and muttered, “I’ll show him.”

Kai’s parents exchanged glances. “A boy,” Mama mouthed, to which Pop responded with a silent “Oh.”

Kai groaned as he once again yanked his index finger from the loop of shoestring he had made. “I don’t understand how I keep tying my finger into the knot.” As soon as he did this, the entire knot fell apart, and he had to start over.

“Dakarai Reginald Barbier.” Pop’s frustration became evident with the crash of silverware meeting the table. “Just do the damn bunny ears.”

“Reggie,” Mama said, admonishing Pop with his own name. “He needs to learn the proper way.”

“Chioma.” Pop’s eyes were daring, but he quickly conceded, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Maybe I should just stick to slip-ons and slides,” Kai said.

“No,” his parents said, their voices joining in agreement.

“You said you were going to learn, so learn ,” Mama said, cutting into her steak like it had done her wrong.

Kai’s leg was starting to cramp, so he placed his foot back on the floor and massaged the tightening muscle in his thigh.

Yet, he remained determined; he couldn’t violate his parents’ strict no shoes in the house policy just for nothing.

He hiked up his other leg, positioning his foot on the chair and leaning his knee against the plastic-covered edge of the dining room table.

He made a loop with one side of his lace and then wrapped it around the other side.

His parents barely breathed as they looked on.

It was time for the moment of truth. He yanked the shoestring tight.

Victory was his. Though his finger was once again caught in the knot.

His parents let out deep sighs and then turned their attention to their steaks, which were getting cold.

Kai decided to give the bunny ears method a shot. With careful fingers, he formed the first loop, then created the second ear, and then crossed them over each other. As he pulled the loops tight, a sense of accomplishment washed over him.

“Reggie, he did it,” Mama said, smacking Pop with the back of her hand to get his attention. “I don’t care how. It’s about time.”

“Take a picture, Chi,” Pop replied, giving himself a pat-down. “Where the hell is my phone?”

“No time! I’ve got to get to the concert!” Kai exclaimed as he raced toward the door, feeling like a brand-new man.

“You sure you don’t want us to drive you and your friends to Raleigh? Your father and I can walk around downtown until the concert is done,” Mama asked as Kai paused to pat himself down—phone, wallet, keys.

He hadn’t had the heart to tell his parents that his friends weren’t going with him. They would worry too much or probably not let him go at all, and his mind was already made up.

“I’ll be fine, Ma. I’ll be back before the streetlights come on!”

“Very funny!” Pop called right before the door slammed closed.