Re: quicklog: Atticus, Casper, Carver, Michael, Will
[All of them gathered made Atticus feel his age. Was a decade older than the boys gathered. Still thought of them as boys, even with the passage of time and circumstance. He watched Carver enter, and he recognized him immediately. Black hair. Goatee. Dark clothes. Lacking smile. But it was still Carver.
Atticus sipped his beer as Michael went to get more drinks, and Atticus watched Carver look away.] Hard to miss, isn't it? [The fact that no one there was normal, especially not Carver. For Atticus, it was a bold statement spoken quietly. Wasn't trying to incite, but maybe Carver would understand they weren't so different, his friends. Atticus didn't really care if they all hated him, but seemed a shame to hate each other.]
Wouldn't trust Michael to teach you. Bet he can run the table. [Atticus' lazy grin said he was joking. Atticus joked a lot. Atticus liked joking.
And he didn't think Carver wasn't the same kid from school. Had gone through bad things, and was obsessive about his faith, but that kid was still there somehow. Might be hurt feelings. Maybe Carver was angry. He had died, and that wasn't an everyday thing. But Will had killed him, and that couldn't be easy. Casper had something going on with the lake and the cats. Couldn't be a coincidence. And Michael, well, Michael had fallen out of a window and died. Atticus leaned against the wall, stick in his hand and beer glass set down, and whispers said Carver wasn't alone in his loneliness. Would be good if the boys connected.
Atticus took a step forward, and he lifted the ball rack.] Feel like breaking, Carver?