Contents ( 42)
- The Art of Breathing
- Part One: How We Became Who We Are
- Prologue: Or, Where the Kid Hears the Word of the Day
- 1. Where Tyson Learns to Breathe
- 2. Where Tyson Makes a Phone Call
- 3. Where Tyson Graduates and Bear Freaks Out
- 4. Where Tyson Says Good-Bye
- 5. Where Tyson Gets the Mail
- Part Two: Coming Home
- 6. Where Tyson Comes Home
- 7. Where Tyson Gives a History Lesson
- 8. Where Tyson Attends the Most Awkward Party Ever
- 9. Where Tyson Plans Attends a Protest
- 10. Where Tyson Gets Arrested
- 11. Where Tyson Gets His Ass Handed to Him
- 12. Where Tyson Writes Bad Poetry and Gawks at Frat Boys
- 13. Where Tyson Decides to Man the Fuck Up
- 14. Where Tyson Asks Some Questions
- 15. Where Tyson Remembers Theresa Jean Paquinn
- 16. Where Tyson Learns the Benefit of Therapy
- 17. Where Tyson Meets the Man Who Becomes Helena Handbasket
- 18. Where Tyson Gets Screwed at His Own Birthday Party (And Not in a Good Way)
- Part Three: Just Breathe
- 19. Where Tyson Goes to Helena Handbasket’s Sex Dungeon
- 20. Where Tyson Beholds the Awesome Wonder That Is Paul Auster
- 21. Where Tyson Receives Advice from the Six Sages
- 22. Where Tyson Makes a Phone Call
- 23. Where Tyson Hears the Inevitable
- 24. Where Tyson Meets His Match
- 25. Where Tyson Says Hello, Where Tyson Says Good-bye
- 26. Where Tyson Touches upon the Inevitable
- 27. Where Tyson Faces the Music
- 28. Where Tyson Breathes
- 29. Tyson And Dominic
- 30. The Art Of Breathing
- Epilogue: Or, Bear’s Perspective, As It Were (Yeah, He’s Gonna Freak)
- Author’s Note
- Excerpt
- Prologue: Or, Where Bear Answers the Door
- More from TJ Klune
- Readers love the Bear, Otter, and the Kid Chronicles by TJ Klune
- By TJ Klune
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you.”
Well, that’s a super bummer. “Shit.”
“Pretty much.”
“This is probably the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
“Probably.”
“This is probably going to set me back at least three years, and if you think I’m emotionally stunted now, then just you wait.”
“Probably.”
“This is probably going to be my tipping point, and I’ll lose it completely and end up in a psychiatric ward, rocking in the corner of my room, and the only times I’ll be let out are when I have to go to electroshock therapy that will do nothing but further send me down the cavernous black hole that is my decimated psyche.”
“Probably.”
“Won’t you just feel so guilty at the sight of me?”
“Probably.”
“You’re still going to make me do it, aren’t you?”
“Definitely.”
A ball bounces in front of us, kicking up bits of sand. “Hey,” one of the college boys with thirty-seven abdominal muscles calls. “Toss it back?”
Corey stands and does just that. It’s a good throw, and Corey looks good doing it.
“You want in?” the non-gay college boy asks with a completely flirtatious smile as he sizes Corey up.
“In more ways than one,” Corey calls back. The college boys laugh and wave him over. Oh, college boys. You’re so progressive.
“You okay to stay here?” he asks me.
I roll my eyes. “I think I’ll survive while you go join the pseudo-hetero parade. Also? I’m insulted that instead of asking me if I wanted to join, you assumed I wanted to stay here.”
“Do you want to join?”
“Ew. They’re all sweating. Of course not. How dare you ask me.”
“Do you think one of them will give me a piggyback ride if I ask?”
“I’m pretty sure they’d do a lot more if you ask. Straight guys are so gay.”
“Think about what I said, okay? About Dominic.”
“Bite me,” I grumble at him. I don’t plan on doing anything of the sort. As soon as Corey goes on the prowl, I’m going to take the car keys and leave him here and cross into Canada to begin my long-standing dream of becoming the French-Canadian Zamboni driver named Pierre. Nothing will stop me. Nothing will keep me from realizing my dream. Nothing at all.
And then he says something so stupid, something so ridiculous, something so fucking life-altering, that I can’t even begin to process what it means, and my dreams of becoming a Zamboni driver disappear as if they were never there at all. “And besides,” he says, “I’m pretty sure he’s at least bisexual. You were too busy resolutely ignoring him to see, but his eyes never left you the day we got arrested. He watched you like you were the only thing that existed in the world. For him, I’m pretty sure you were. For at least those moments. Who knows what could happen?”
I gape at him as my synapses misfire. I’m pretty sure I can smell the burning coming from inside my head.