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
“Don’t you dare talk like that,” he growled at me. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I think the medical community would disagree with you.”
“Fuck them!” he cried at me, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. “Fuck them! Fuck a goddamn diagnosis! Fuck her! And fuck you too, if you think I’m going to stand aside and let you think that about yourself. You are going to make this world a better place, and you are going to prove everyone wrong who thinks you needed a mother and father to grow up good. There’s never been a moment when I haven’t looked at you and thought, This is why I’m doing this. He’s the reason I’m doing all that I do.”
“Earthquake,” I whispered at him, barely able to breathe. The slamming of his hands was like shutting the door on my lungs. “B-breathe. H-hard t-t-to—”
He was out the door and around the car before I could even blink. In the panic that was my mind, the red waves and shifting ground, I felt anger at myself for being so weak. I have to fix this, I thought. I have to find a way to fix this somehow.
But then the ground broke up beneath my feet and I started falling, falling, falling and I couldn’t breathe and—
My brother was there. As he always was. And as always, he talked me through it. It took a while, but eventually, the earthquakes stopped. My throat and lungs opened up.
We sat there, for a time. Bear and me.
“And that’s why,” I tell Sandy now, my voice hoarse from talking so long, “it matters what my brother thinks. For the longest time, it was just Bear and me. That’s all we knew about how to survive. Eventually, it got better, but no matter where life takes us, no matter where our stories go, it always will come down to Bear and me. There might come a time when we’ll be apart, but everything I’ll do will be because of him, and everything I’ll do will be for him. He’s not just my brother, Sandy. Bear is the reason I’m alive.”
“Oh, baby doll,” Sandy says, wiping his eyes. “I do believe that’s possibly the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Forgive my ignorance earlier. Of course you should care about what your brother says. But you shouldn’t let it define you. You are your own man, and while the path might have been started by Bear, it’s your own now.”
“He’s still going to flip out.”
“Doesn’t he do that normally?”
I laugh. I feel better. A little bit. “Yeah. I guess he does.”
“Well, then. It’ll be par for the course.” Sandy hesitates. Then, “Was he right?”
“About what?”
“Your mom.”
“What about her?”
“Do you want to find her? Ask her the questions yourself?”
“No,” I tell him honestly. “But I’ve been thinking about her more and more lately. I even dream about her. Sometimes, they’re good dreams. But most of the time they’re not. And I’m not where I want to be. If anything, I’m worse.”