relating to the story. “You think?”
“Down deep, everyone feels like an outcast.”
Ciaran fidgeted in his seat, not sure how much more he could listen to. He had a vague understanding ofwhat the novel was about, but no interest in hearing it discussed and analyzed. In fact, he hated when Ronan prattled on about literature in general, finding it to be self-indulgent and boring.
Michael completely disagreed even if he didn’t completely understand Ronan’s comment. “Everyone? An outcast?”
Don’t ramble, Ronan, don’t give too much away.
“Wilde was part of …”
Choose the right word, Ronan.
“A minority. And so he was able to look at life from a different viewpoint. He understood that each of us in some way carries shame.” Ronan glanced at Michael’s eyes but couldn’t hold his gaze, and looked away. “Shame put there by another person, society, to make us feel like an outsider, someone who doesn’t belong.” When Ronan found the courage to look back, he saw that Michael had never taken his eyes off of him.
It’s like he understands exactly what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling.
This was such a new feeling for Michael, to be in direct connection with one other person, that he had forgotten that sitting next to him was the boy who made this whole conversation possible.
Odd man out. Ciaran hated the feeling, hated being once again in this position.
It’s always the same when it comes to Ronan, though, isn’t it,
he thought. His brother always had time to talk to someone else and never to him. He wanted to blame Michael, but he knew he couldn’t. He wanted to blame Ronan, but he knew that would be useless. So he blamed himself.
You should’ve kept your mouth shut and never called Ronan thismorning to tell him that Michael had asked about him in that voice, that tone that said exactly what was in his heart. And when Ronan demanded in the guise of a whispered request, “You must bring him to me,” I should’ve said, “No, go find him yourself.” Why can’t I resist him? Ever. But enough. Enough is enough.
“Whilst I find this dialogue scintillating, an organic chem lab awaits,” Ciaran said, standing up. “And please note that the scientist was able to wedge the word ’whilst’ into his farewell.”
Michael started to stand up, but halfway through his motion realized how awkward he must look and quickly sat back down. He caught Ronan’s bemused look. “I’ll, um, see you at lunch, Ciaran. Okay?” Ciaran didn’t stop to answer Michael but kept walking until he was outside. The mixture of sunshine and wind was refreshing and he paused for a moment to allow it to revive him. A breeze flew through him and he got a chill; he knew he shouldn’t have told Michael he was related to Ronan. Some things are best unsaid. But he consoled himself with the knowledge that he did not introduce them. They met on their own with no interference from him, so whatever happened between them, and Ciaran knew in his heart that something would definitely happen between them, Michael could never accuse him of setting things into motion.
Ronan was watching Ciaran through the window. “My brother prefers the company of a laboratory over a library.”
Michael was still having a hard time conceiving thesetwo as brothers. “I can’t believe you two are half brothers.”
“Brother, half brother, same thing, isn’t it?” Ronan traced the stubble on his chin with his fingers. “Still bound by blood.”
“I’m an only child,” Michael offered. “I wouldn’t really know.”
He is so easy to talk to.
“Sometimes I feel like an only child.”
“You and Ciaran didn’t grow up together?” Michael asked.
“Oh no,” Ronan said, his gaze not meeting Michael’s. “Our childhoods couldn’t have been any more different.” Michael used every ounce of restraint not to respond immediately but to let Ronan offer whatever information he chose. It’s not that he didn’t want to know everything there
“Down deep, everyone feels like an outcast.”
Ciaran fidgeted in his seat, not sure how much more he could listen to. He had a vague understanding ofwhat the novel was about, but no interest in hearing it discussed and analyzed. In fact, he hated when Ronan prattled on about literature in general, finding it to be self-indulgent and boring.
Michael completely disagreed even if he didn’t completely understand Ronan’s comment. “Everyone? An outcast?”
Don’t ramble, Ronan, don’t give too much away.
“Wilde was part of …”
Choose the right word, Ronan.
“A minority. And so he was able to look at life from a different viewpoint. He understood that each of us in some way carries shame.” Ronan glanced at Michael’s eyes but couldn’t hold his gaze, and looked away. “Shame put there by another person, society, to make us feel like an outsider, someone who doesn’t belong.” When Ronan found the courage to look back, he saw that Michael had never taken his eyes off of him.
It’s like he understands exactly what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling.
This was such a new feeling for Michael, to be in direct connection with one other person, that he had forgotten that sitting next to him was the boy who made this whole conversation possible.
Odd man out. Ciaran hated the feeling, hated being once again in this position.
It’s always the same when it comes to Ronan, though, isn’t it,
he thought. His brother always had time to talk to someone else and never to him. He wanted to blame Michael, but he knew he couldn’t. He wanted to blame Ronan, but he knew that would be useless. So he blamed himself.
You should’ve kept your mouth shut and never called Ronan thismorning to tell him that Michael had asked about him in that voice, that tone that said exactly what was in his heart. And when Ronan demanded in the guise of a whispered request, “You must bring him to me,” I should’ve said, “No, go find him yourself.” Why can’t I resist him? Ever. But enough. Enough is enough.
“Whilst I find this dialogue scintillating, an organic chem lab awaits,” Ciaran said, standing up. “And please note that the scientist was able to wedge the word ’whilst’ into his farewell.”
Michael started to stand up, but halfway through his motion realized how awkward he must look and quickly sat back down. He caught Ronan’s bemused look. “I’ll, um, see you at lunch, Ciaran. Okay?” Ciaran didn’t stop to answer Michael but kept walking until he was outside. The mixture of sunshine and wind was refreshing and he paused for a moment to allow it to revive him. A breeze flew through him and he got a chill; he knew he shouldn’t have told Michael he was related to Ronan. Some things are best unsaid. But he consoled himself with the knowledge that he did not introduce them. They met on their own with no interference from him, so whatever happened between them, and Ciaran knew in his heart that something would definitely happen between them, Michael could never accuse him of setting things into motion.
Ronan was watching Ciaran through the window. “My brother prefers the company of a laboratory over a library.”
Michael was still having a hard time conceiving thesetwo as brothers. “I can’t believe you two are half brothers.”
“Brother, half brother, same thing, isn’t it?” Ronan traced the stubble on his chin with his fingers. “Still bound by blood.”
“I’m an only child,” Michael offered. “I wouldn’t really know.”
He is so easy to talk to.
“Sometimes I feel like an only child.”
“You and Ciaran didn’t grow up together?” Michael asked.
“Oh no,” Ronan said, his gaze not meeting Michael’s. “Our childhoods couldn’t have been any more different.” Michael used every ounce of restraint not to respond immediately but to let Ronan offer whatever information he chose. It’s not that he didn’t want to know everything there
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