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 poor guy,” Kori says.
“Are you kidding?” Vince asks. “It’s awesome. I don’t even have to watch TV anymore. They’re like the Hispanic telenovelas on TV here that I watch with Nana. Bright and colorful and I have no idea what’s going on but someone with an awesome mustache is about to get slapped.”
“I don’t want the Homo Jock King in my house!” Sandy says. “And that’s final!”
“Homo Jock King?” I ask.
Vince shrugs. “It’s a Tucson thing.”
“Darren!” I hear Paul say from the doorway. “How lovely of you to have made it. Sandy and I were just talking about you!”
“I bet you were,” a deep voice says.
Paul walks back into the kitchen… followed by another supermodel, this one bigger than Vince, though they look enough alike to be related.
“Jesus Christ,” I say, throwing my hands up in the air. “Is everyone here super attractive, built, and gay? This can’t be real life.”
“Why, thank you, twinkie!” Paul says, puffing out his chest. “I have been working out lately.”
“Jazzercise on old VHS tapes with Nana and five-pound weights don’t count,” Sandy says.
“It does if you sweat when it happens,” Paul says. “And I sweat like a little bitch. Wait. That sounds super unattractive.”
“It is,” Sandy says.
“I think it’s hot,” Vince says with a shrug. “You should see him with his little shorts on when he’s trying to Jazzercise.”
“Thank you, baby,” Paul says. Then his eyes narrow. “What do you mean trying?”
“Sandy,” Darren says stiffly. “I see you’re looking… alive.”
“Come to mingle with the slovenly today, have we, your majesty?” Sandy asks sweetly. “What a joyous occasion this is! It’s akin to the time that drunk guy threw up on me at the bar.”
“It’s the same for me,” Darren says. His gaze lands on me. He flashes a predatory smile that makes my knees just a tad bit weak. “Hi there. I’m Darren. Vince’s brother.”
Dominic moves until he’s standing in front of me just a little bit. Weird.
“Then why are you here?” Sandy asks.
“Because I know it pisses you off,” Darren says, sounding bored. “And I didn’t have anything better to do.”
“No little twinkie bartenders in the storeroom this morning to fuck where just anyone can stumble across you two?”
“That was last night.” He winks at me.
“You whore!” Paul says, sounding scandalized.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Vince groans.
“Brunch is served!” Sandy says with false cheer.
Jesus fucking Christ.
21. Where Tyson Receives Advice from the Six Sages
SAGE THE First:
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I mutter to Kori as I follow the group up the sidewalk on Fourth Avenue to a bar called Jack It. “Nobody in the world should ever wear skinny jeans. I look ridiculous.” And I do. In addition to the bright blue skinny jeans, I’m wearing a tight white shirt that barely covers my stomach, and my hair is flipped up and messy, held in place by some aptly named product called Cement. I look like a hipster douchebag.