Bishop Holloway
Intrusive as frigid water or even a blatant facial slap—the tune of some TWENTY ØNE PILØTS song not only coaxed him from slumber—it yanked him from it. Wiping his eyes and touching about his bed in a scattered confusion, the vibration near his pillow led his hand to his smartphone, and Nathan’s name on his screen.
“Hello? Nathan?”
Silence on the other end had Bishop assuming the call to be a mishap, a butt-dial inconveniently executed by his younger brother while rolling in the sheets with some college girl.
“Bishop?” Finally, an answer.
Swallowing hard, Bishop returned his head to the cool pillow, glancing briefly toward the glowing red 1:29 glaring at him from his nightstand.
“Nathan…you okay, dude?”
Silence—only soft wind outside the window and softer breath on the other end of the line.
“Nathan, are you drunk?”
“Nah.”
“Um…okay. Did you mean to call?”
Silence. Thirteen full seconds of near complete silence.
“You ever think it’s too much, man?”
Blinking rapidly, Bishop’s attempt to fling the fog off his brain was futile. “Too much? What’s too much, Nate?”
“I don’t know. It just is.”
School. School must be too much—overwhelming.
“Nate…dude…really? Now? I’ve got an interview tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry.”
The slight crack in his brother’s voice had Bishop propping himself on his elbow, pressing the phone firmer to his face. “Okay, Nate. What’s up? Talk to me.”
The sniffling in his ear captured Bishop’s concern completely. Nate rarely cried—ever.
“It’s too big.”
Too big? This has to be a drunk-dial joke. Toppling back to his comforter, Bishop gave a forced chuckle. “Ha! You dick. I thought something happened. Don’t you have class tomorrow?”
“It’s too much.”
Never one to venture down dramatic trails, the desperation in Nathan’s tone erased any trace of humor from the situation entirely.
“Nate…dude. You’re being serious? School? School’s too much? What’s too much, Bubs?”
“Nothin’, B.”
“Nah, Bro. Is it school? Semester is all but done, Nate. You’ll get there.”
“Yeah.”
Short, soft and disengaged—completely atypical of the standard communication between Nathan and Bishop Holloway.
“Yeah? Nathan…what the hell’s going on, man?”
Choppy inhalation on the other end had Bishop listening only to his brother’s breath—heavy and whistling slightly around his teeth.
“It’s been a lot for a while, B…and now it’s too much. I can’t…”
“Okay. I’m gonna reschedule my interview. I’ll be there around noon tomorrow.”
“’K.”
“You need to get some rest, Bro. How many tests do you have this week?”
Rustling of some sort on the other end was followed by a soft sigh. “I love you, Bishop.”
Silence—again. At a loss for words, Bishop’s all but tripped from his tongue and fell from his lips. “I…well, I love you too, Nate. Dude. Nathan. You want me to come there now?”
“Nah. Be still…but stay here.”
“Like…on the phone?”
“Please.” High pitched and almost pleading, Nathan’s voice had Bishop rising from his bed, stumbling toward the light switch.
“Yeah. For sure. Nate, what happened?”
“I dunno.”
Flipping the light switch, Bishop’s eyes ached as he forced them open, glancing about the room for his jeans. “Where are you right now, Nate?”
“Walking somewhere.”
The response made no sense and even halted Bishop’s attempt to dress himself while pressing the phone to his ear with his shoulder. “Outside? You’re walking outside?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s freezing outside, man. Where the hell are you right now?”
“I dunno exactly.”
“Nathan! What happened? You’re scaring me.”
“Nothing…it…it’s too much. It’s everything now. It’s just too much, B.”
Pressing into his forehead, Bishop’s thumb and index finger ached as he contemplated reaching for his car keys and driving to his brother in boxers and a jacket. “Bubs…please…why are you walking right now? It’s too cold.”
“I didn’t wanna wake anyone up.”
“Okay. But you need to go back to the dorms. It’s a deathtrap out there.”
“I’m not going back inside.”
Solemn and solid, Nathan’s words entered Bishop’s ear as a foreign substance rather than the mumbling of his baby brother—his best friend. “What…what are you doing, Nathan? What are you going to do?”
Silence.
“Nathan. This doesn’t make any sense, just go inside and I’ll come get you—”
“I love you, Bishop. It’s just too much.”