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
The more he speaks, the more his death at my hands becomes an inevitability. That asshole knows exactly what he’s doing. This whole thing should be over and done and never discussed again, and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for that meddling homo.
And since the (loaded) question is directed toward me, naturally everyone turns to look at me. Otter looks worried. Judas (Creed) looks like he thinks this is the funniest thing to ever have happened anywhere and can barely contain himself. Anna is scolding JJ across the room with her eyes only (in that weird way that only parents can do) as JJ prepares to massacre a bunch of balloons with a fork. Bear looks between Dominic and me, a look of dawning comprehension falling over his face. His mouth tightens and his eyes narrow.
And yet, wonder of all wonders, he waits. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t say what he thinks is best for me, and for once, I’m pissed that he’s not taking this decision away from me, that he’s making me act like the smart and mature and totally responsible twenty-year-old I am (or like to think I am, anyway). Just two seconds ago, I was mad that he was trying to make a decision for me and now I’m mad that he’s not. Jesus fucking Christ. I have to be bipolar. There’s no other explanation for it.
God. Being an adult sucks so much ass.
And Dominic, of course. Dominic, who stands there larger than anyone has any right to be, watching me with guarded eyes and a blank face, and I want to scream at him to just tell me what the fuck he wants, what the fuck he wants me to do. What he wants me to say. What’s that word Bear used to use? Projecting. Of course I’m projecting, because he doesn’t want anything from me, he doesn’t need me to do or say anything. His life and world was perfectly ordered until I came back.
And yet he waits and watches in that infuriating way.
In the space of the seconds that have passed, three responses have formed in my head, and it’s anybody’s guess which one will actually come out.
One: Are you out of your fucking mind? Of course I don’t want you to come! I’m fighting a losing battle to get these ridiculous fantasies out of my head of your dick in my mouth, and you want to be plastered by my side for a week? How could you possibly think that’s a good idea. Don’t you know what you do to me? Don’t you know why I didn’t come back? You broke me, Dom. You broke me into a billion tiny little pieces, and somehow, I’ve put myself back together, only to have you here again. I love you. I don’t think I ever stopped. But I can’t have this because even though I’m back together in some shape and form, I still don’t know how to breathe.