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
He waits. He knows me better than that.
“But if I do, I’m going to kick my own ass for it later, aren’t I?”
“If not you, then I will,” he reassures me. “Enough is enough. It’s time to put on your big-boy pants and get this done and over with.”
I look back up at the house. “Yeah.”
“You want me to wait out here?”
I really do. Chances are I’m going to chicken out and will need a getaway vehicle waiting for me. Or Dominic will open the door, see it’s me, and slam it in my face. Or I’ll have misunderstood everything and Stacey will answer the door and call for her husband and smile at me and say, “Welcome to our loving home, where we love each other and live in loving matrimony filled with large amounts of love.” Or (and this one is by far the worst) Dominic will open the door, invite me in, and I will have to go inside with him, and it’ll just be me and him, and he’ll sit across from me, staring at me and waiting until I speak, and I won’t be able to think of a single goddamn thing to say. I won’t be able to think of anything at all, because what do you say to someone like him? What do you say to the person who hurt you like no other (even if he didn’t know it was happening)? What do you say to the person who, aside from your brother, has had the most influence on your life?
Without Bear, I would not be alive. This, I know.
But without Dominic, I have not been whole. This I’ve known for a very long time, whether I’ve wanted to realize it or not.
“No,” I say to Corey. “It’ll be fine.”
“I almost believed you there.”
“It will.”
“I’m convinced.” He doesn’t sound convinced.
“I promise.”
“I could go talk to him before you,” he says. “Take him down a few pegs.”
“I’m pretty sure he could squash you. With one hand.”
“Yeah, can we talk about that for a minute? I didn’t know you were into the muscles. That brings a whole new dimension to you. We’ve all got our kinks, I suppose.”
“What? I’m not!”
He stares at me.
“A little,” I admit. “So he’s a big guy. Big deal.”
Corey rolls his eyes. “That’s an understatement. He’s a fucking giant. God, what I would give to just bite into one of his biceps.”
“Corey!”
“What!”
“I don’t know!”
“Then why are we yelling!”
“That’s not what this is about,” I say, wiping the sweat from my forehead. Goddamn stress sweat. This makes me think of that deodorant commercial and I laugh quietly, but it comes out high-pitched, like I’m trying to sing an aria while gargling mayonnaise. Sweat drips down into my eye and it burns like crazy, and oh my fucking God, why did I think I could do this? Why on earth did I think this was a good idea? Drive! I want to scream at Corey. Drive, you motherfucker! Get me the fuck out of here!