Chapter 11.

A Chapter by lilfeather

11!~

By the time the brothers left the house for hockey, they decided to get food first. Conner was content with this, because they went to McDonalds, and he couldn't remember the last time he got any kind of fast food. He hadn't seen the inside of one of these places in a while.

Jason eyed the menu, standing on line behind an old man. "What do you all want?" Ma had given him money for the four of them. She had also given him that look that meant there was no reason for them to be going to get fast food when they had plenty of food in the house. But here they were anyway, because in a way it could be considered a special occasion. And Judy had a soft spot in her heart for Jason and what he wanted, especially if it was fairly pragmatic.

When he reached the counter, ordering was a mess as Jason attempted to order for the four of them, with random interjections and mind changing along the way. The teenager at the register was surprisingly patient and eventually they had the order in.

"Why the hell are you getting a happy meal, Ian?" Michal demanded as they waited for their food.

"Why not?" Ian answered. "It comes with that car."

"That car is for five year olds."

"Obviously not."

Michal rolled his eyes. "Well, it's intended for five year olds."

"Michal, if they let anybody get it, then it's for anybody."

"Having the mental capacity of a f*****g five year old isn't just anybody."

"Say what?"

"Will you two stop bitching, already?" Jason interrupted, giving Michal a push. As empty cups were placed on the counter in front of them, he gave them a pointed look. "Go make yourself useful. Get yourself a soda."

"Don't be so bossy, Jason," Ian objected. But he took a cup anyway, and, rolling his eyes at Michal, stalked off towards the fountain soda dispensers.

"Yeah, I'm bossy," Jason said sarcastically. He eyed Conner, who was running his finger along the countertop with a look on his face that made it obvious his mind was someone else. Jason assumed that he had zoned himself out due to all of this incessant arguing. He wanted to say something to the kid, but really couldn't think of anything worthwhile. He decided to try anyway.

"So where did you come from, Conner?" Bobby asked.
Conner didn�t answer. He was humming softly.

"Conner," Jason said louder. One of the employees behind the counter started to put fries onto their tray. Jason reached for a few and said louder, "Conner." This kid's attention span was ridiculous.

Conner looked up then, finger freezing in its path of tracing the counter. He looked up at him. "What?"

"Where'd you come from?" Jason asked as he ate the fries. They were pretty hot. They must have just been made. Salty too. Perfect. They would go really well with a beer. Too bad McDonald's didn't sell beer. Someone told him they did in France. That would be cool.

"I'm from Detroit," Conner said.

"I know that," Jason said in exasperation. He snatched a few more fries. "I mean, like where were you before this?"

Conner seemed pretty perplexed about the question. He gave Conner a bit of a confused look before answering, "Right before this I was back at the group home."

Jason had been to group homes before, he knew what they were like. But there was something about the way it was phrased that made Jason a bit amused. "How's that? You have any friends there?"

Conner shrugged. "I guess."

"Any you miss?"

"I guess."

"You guess?" Jason asked. "And where we you before this group place?"

Conner shifted his weight against the counter, a little uncomfortable again with these questions and the focus on him. Michal was looking at him too. What kind of answers were they looking for? Conner hadn't quite gotten the knack of knowing what people were looking for. Most times he seemed to have the wrong answer.

"I was at another family." He answered slowly, testing the waters.

Jason nodded and didn't say much. Again, he realized this kid wasn't one to just share information. He looked incredibly nervous for simple questions. Jason was curious, but he didn't know him really yet, and he wasn't going to press. He would just talk to Judy about it later. She already had said they would talk. He would let Conner off the spot for now.

He reached for a few more fries before turning his head to find Ian. He was chatting with some girl by the soda machines, coyly leaning against the counter. Jason rolled his eyes. Fairly typical.

Within a few minutes, the food came out and Jason took the tray. "Nothing like some artery clogging food before we try to play hockey."

"It only clogs your arteries if you eat it every day," Michal objected as he ate some fries. "I'll get your soda, what do you want?"

"Coke's fine," Bobby said. He handed a cup to Conner. "Here, go with Michal."

Conner took the cup and walked over with Michal to get soda. He looked at the different types. Dr. Pepper. Coke. Diet Coke. Sprite. Something orange. Michal was getting ice. Conner didn't want ice. You could get more soda if you didn't get ice. But then again, he could refill it. But what if they didn't come back to refill it?

"It's not a big decision." Michal laughed at him. He'd already filled his cup with Coke as well as Jason's. "You're looking really confused for an easy decision."

"Maybe he's thinking about something else, ever think of that?" Jason replied as he walked past them towards a table that Ian had claimed.

"Well, then what are you thinking about?" Michal asked Conner.

Conner moved to fill his cup with Sprite. "Uh�. Hockey," he lied.

"Hockey?" Michal echoed. "Well, Jason's just going to love you, isn't he," he muttered. "Hockey of all things."
Conner wasn't sure why that answer was such a big deal. Weren't they going to play hockey as soon as they got out of here? He thought that it was a logical answer.

Conner hated the days of being new and trying to figure out people. He couldn't read minds. What did they expect?

At the table he felt awkward. Michal, Ian, and Jason all grabbed their respective food without so much as a word and began to unwrap the burgers and munch on ketchup covered fries. Conner reached over for his chicken nuggets carefully.

"Jason, I've got something to ask you," Ian began with a mouthful of a Big Mac.
Jason looked at him. "Well, ask." Ian kind of had that look on his face. This was not going to be one of those easy questions to answer. "Well?"

"You got any money?"

"Money for what?"

Ian paused. "Well... How much do you have?"

"On me?" Jason gave Ian a frowning look. "Why?"

"How much, Jason?"

"What do I look like to you, a bank?"

Ian shook his head. "No, for real. How much you got?"

Michal took a sip of his soda. "Why don't you just tell Jason who you owe to money, Ian."

"That's not what this is about," Ian objected, giving Michal a look.

"Who do you owe money to?" Jason asked.

"That's not what this is about," Ian persisted.

"It better not be," Jason retorted. "Sure as hell better not be."

Ian shook his head.

"Then again, you sure as hell better not be lying to me either," Jason continued. "I don't know which is worse to me actually."

"It's not that much."

"How much is not that much?" Jason persisted. He'd forgotten his food now, and was staring at Ian intently. "Huh? You tell me how much is not that much."

"How much do you have on you?"

"Why this sudden interest, Ian? You didn't say anything about this at home. What about Ronald McDonald makes you suddenly need money?"

Ian sighed and gave the oldest brother a look. Jason's eyes were cold, and he knew he was getting a bit angry. Understandably. They'd been through this before. Ian wasn't sure how to explain himself. Except for that of course he wouldn't bring it up at home. Not with ma within hearing range.

"I owe a little bit of money. And where we're going, I'm not sure who's going to be there," Ian began. "So I'm just saying, it wouldn't hurt if you had some money I could borrow, so that� You know� If I need it."

"No." Jason should his head. "We talked about this already, Ian."

"No? What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, no. You heard me, Ian. What, so you can owe me money? You think you're good for that money?"

"Jason, you've gotta. I can't go if�"

"Oh, you're going. We're all going."

"What's it if I owe you some money? It's better than owing somebody else money, isn't it?"

"You shouldn't be owing anybody money, Ian. Period. That's my point."

"Okay, I get your point. Except I do owe somebody money. So�"

"So I guess," Jason persisted, "you're going to have to get creative, huh?"

Ian swallowed. "Bullshit, Jason. You'll help me."

"Why?"

"Because, Jason. You're my brother."

"Who is it?"

Ian shrugged and shook his head. "It doesn�t matter.�

�Yeah, it does. Who do you owe money to?�

�If you�re not gonna help me anyway, then it doesn�t matter.�

Frustrated, Jason simply shook his head. �A day, Ian. I�ve been home for one day. And already--�

�Just drop it then,� Ian interrupted. �Just drop it.�

�You�ll handle this one on your own.�

�Obviously.�

There was a moment of silence that passed between them. It was then for some reason that Conner finally felt he wanted to speak. �Why would you owe somebody money?�

�Listen.� Ian shook his head and gave him a look. �Don�t you ask me questions.�

�F**k off, Ian,� Jason replied. �What�d he do to you? Conner, Ian owes people money because he�s a dumbass, that�s why.�

Conner was extremely confused. He didn�t know much about what money would be owed for or why it was such a big deal. It must be a lot of money if it was a big deal, but again he wasn�t sure. And he really didn�t know why it was causing such a big fight between these two.

Half the time they were pretending to fight, and now it seemed like an actual fight.

�F**k you, Jason,� Ian retorted. �Like you�re completely clean. You sleep with a gun within five feet of you every night. And you�re lecturing me because I owe a few bucks?�

�It�s my job to lecture. You�re asking for my help, aren�t you? Then you get what comes with that. Deal with it.�

�But you�re not helping me. You�ve made that pretty clear.�

�Are we going to go in circles with this?� Michal began. �I�m already bored.�

Ian glared at him.

�I don�t know how someone makes the same mistake a hundred times,� Jason said. �You know, Ian? If ma knew--�

�Leave ma out of this, Jason.�

�Oh, leave her out. That�s convenient. Wait until we�re out of the house and then bring all this s**t up. Whether or not you talk about it there, you�ve brought it to her house anyway, Ian. You realize that?�

Ian took a deep breath and rolled his eyes slightly.

�Don�t give me that look,� Jason answered. �Stop being a punk. You know better.�
Ian didn�t answer. He wasn�t sure what to say. Jason was impossible to argue with. He�d pull the age, experience, loyalty to ma, all the same bullshit to win an argument. And there wasn�t much you could say in response to that without making yourself look worse. Ian sat there, feeling a bit dejected, and slightly worried about who he might run into when they went to play hockey.

�Just eat,� Jason continued, voice softening a little bit. �If you run into somebody then we�ll worry about it then. Kapeesh?�

�Easy for you to say�� Ian muttered.

�Yeah, I�m so goddamn perfect that I couldn�t possibly understand,� Jason answered sarcastically. �Besides, let�s give Conner a little bit better of a first impression, how about that?�

Ian rolled his eyes again. He already resented Conner a little bit, and not because he wanted to. He couldn�t help it. Someone younger, someone obviously vulnerable, who at the least already had ma�s complete affection, and Jason had been giving him a lot of attention already too, in that overt Jason way. Ian assumed a lot of the reason Jason was home, although he did randomly visit, was because ma had called him about Conner. Not because of him or Michal.

�Jason, if we gave good first impressions, I don�t think we�d be where we are,� Michal pointed out.

Jason allowed himself to smile. �Michal, that�s pretty true, I guess.�

�It�s completely true.�

�We can still try, can�t we?�

�I guess.�

�Trying never hurt anybody.�

Michal shrugged.

"Just eat up, guys,� Jason persisted. �I want to go kick some a*s in hockey.�

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