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
His eyes widen, but he quickly shakes his head. I believe him. I don’t know why.
“Whew!” I say, relieved. “That’s a load off. Do you eat meat? I guess it’s okay if you do. You should know that I’m a staunch vegetarian. That’s another word I learned: staunch. It means ‘faithful’ and ‘loyal.’ That’s another great word, huh? Loyal. So if you eat meat, I won’t mind. Heck, I might even be able to convince you to come back from the Dark Side. Do you like Star Wars? I do. Bear and Otter and me had this marathon one time and we watched all six in one day and Bear made me spicy edamame and it was sooo good. That was another good day. I wish lightsabers were real. Do you like to read? What’s your favorite book? I can’t pick just one, ’cause I like them all. Wow, you sure don’t talk much, do you?” Oh crap. “Can you talk? I feel bad now ’cause maybe you can’t talk. Were you in an accident? Or were you born that way? I wonder if that’s genetic. Or is it—”
“I don’t live with my parents,” he says quietly as he watches me. His voice sounds broken, like he’s gargling gravel, like he’s not use to speaking and it’s hoarse from disuse. But I’m so happy that he can talk and that he’s talking to me, I don’t give it another thought. Maybe that’s just how he’s supposed to sound. “I live with fosters,” he rumbles.
“Oh. Oh. Like, not your real parents, but people who watch you anyway? You don’t have to tell me why if you don’t want to. Maybe later, huh? Then I can tell you about my… mom.” That word hurts more than I thought it would, and my voice catches on it and almost breaks, but I push through it, blinking back the burn in my eyes. No. Not here. Not now. I don’t want to get in the bathtub today. There will be no earthquakes. So what if I’m still scared? So what if I worry that she’ll come back again and I’ll have to go away with her? So what if I’m worried that Bear is going to leave me too now that he has Otter, because now that he’s found himself, he won’t need me anymore? So what? Who cares? Blah, blah, blah. I don’t need the damn bathtub. I’ve been doing so good, dammit. I don’t need this. I don’t want this.
I hope he doesn’t notice my mini freak-out, but he does. Of course he does. I’m a little surprised when he reaches up and drops a hand on my shoulder, patting me twice before dropping his arm. I feel better almost right way. Weird. Whatever. He’s really cool.
“What were you doing over there?” he grumbles at me, pointing across the street.
I grin. “Following Helmholtz Watson as he carried a crumb back to the queen where I would have made the discovery of a lifetime and had my name emblazoned in the annals of ant culture.” I groan inwardly as I realize what I’ve just said. Crap, could I sound like any more of a freak? I blush and it’s my turn to look down as I shuffle my feet. “Just watching some ants,” I mutter.