"Ned!" Conor called to the red headed boy across the field. "Ned!" He repeated to the boy who sat in the green grass, spacing out about who knows what.
Conor slowly began to walk over to, reaching the ginger and messed with his pin-straight hair. Upon taking a seat, he watched Ned's gaze and tried to find the capturing sight. "What're we looking at?"
"Ants." He replied, picking one up onto his small finger. "They're tiny and red, like me."
Conor chuckled, taking the small boy with the ant in his protective arms and holding him with his hip. "Are we adding him to the farm?" The boy nodded, playing with the ant that ran through his fingers. "Alright, I'll get a cup to carry the guy in.
After a short walk, plastic cup in hand, they made their way up to the apartment hand in hand. "We got another little friend." Conor called out to Mr. Sherry as he pushed the door open and gave his son the cup to go add an addition to the ant farm.
The boy ran off to the room that he shared with Conor, scurrying in the cutest way possible. "He's just like-"
"Don't"
"I know." Mr. Sherry unhappily replied. "He's transferring colleges, you know. To one nearby."
"You know what the doctors said."
"Mr. Sherry put his papers down on the table in front of the couch. "It's been four years, Conor. He doesn't even know he has a son. Doctors don't know everything."
"When I.T comes to medicine, they do." Conor scoffed. "Philosophy can't fix that rubbish. Little Ned is proof of that; I can't use poetry to fix his weak heart." Conor angrily walked into his room, immediately softening at the sight of his son introducing the new ant to the others. "How's he fitting in."
Ned shrugged, "He'll get used to the new setting."
"Nice word, bud." The little boy smiled widely at his fathers approval, jumping onto his small cot that sat beside Conor's bed. Conor went over to the stereo and turned on an old CD that Ned had left before little Ned was born. They listened to it every night because Little Ned was absolutely obsessed and I.T had been the only way he'd fall asleep, even when he was just a newborn. Mr. Sherry had told that Ned listened to I.T all the time so the kid must be used to hearing I.T before he was even born.
"Dad?" Conor brought himself back from his little space out to look at his son, "Tell me about Daddy again. I heard you and Uncle Danny talking, and I don't wanna meet him if I.T will hurt him, but...I wanna know him."
Conor took a seat on the washer of his bed, looking into his little boy's hazel eyes that were filled with curiosity, "He was short with wavy red hair, and freckles on his cheeks. He listened to this CD all the time, and was sassy, but he cared very much about you."
"And how you met! That's my favorite."
"Of course. Dad was new to the school and became roommates with your Daddy. At first, he was very closed off but you Dad pried, while balancing rugby, and eventually we became very close friends. Your Daddy taught the whole team, and the whole school that it's okay to be a bit different." Conor reminisced, then concluded by driving home that being different and embracing yourself is encouraged in this household. His son smiled brightly by the end, loving the image he'd made of his father in his head.
"It's okay if he can't know about me, but can I meet him. I heard you and Uncle Sherry. Please, Dad."
Conor pauses, thinking for a moment, "Yeah. I'll take you tomorrow, I have off from work." The signature Masters smile spread across the little one's face, and he turned around on his side to read a book.
***
"Hold my hand." The protective father spoke to his quiet, nervous son who he maneuvered through the streets with. He lead the way towards the entrance of the large college campus, "Okay, let's recap. Who're you?"
"Ned Masters." The boy squeaked.
"Why's your name Ned?"
"My grandpa's name was Ned."
"Who's kid are you?"
"I'm adopted."
The boy may have been small for his age in his stature, but his brain was big enough to pop out of his head. "And?"
"And lying is only used on this occasion."
"Perfect." He lead his son through the gates and towards a large brick building with teenagers and young adults scattered outside. I.T was odd. Conor was the same age as most of them, yet he felt like they were all immature by comparison—possibly because he was forced to grow up faster. They sat on blankets on the green grass, or bustled to another class. You know what they say, the grass is always greener on the other side. This was the other side. The life Conor could have pursued. He looked down to Ned, who clutched tightly onto his hand and kept close to his leg, and thought that he wouldn't trade being a father for being a student for anything in the world. "So, have we chosen a name."
Ned blocked twice, moving his small feet, then seemed to catch on. "Yes. Andy."
"Andy? Why Andy."
"It's like ant-y." Conor chuckled, messing with the boy's hair. He was looking at Ned, when the boy seemed frozen and his face went blank. Conor followed his gaze, looking to see a familiar freckled face approaching. "That's-"
"Yeah." Connor said in almost a whisper, "That's him."
The young man became within range, bustling over in an almost disgruntled manner, "Conor, what're you doing here?" He said darkly.
Conor stood still for a moment, almost shocked by his tone. "I just heard that you transferred. I wanted to come greet you."
Ned blinked, "Oh." He got a bit awkward and was obviously angry, but then he noticed the small boy by Conor's leg, "Are you babysitting?"
"No. He's my own. I adopted him."
"Are you crazy?" Ned yelled, getting closer t Conor so that no one around would hear his opinion on the matter. "Conor, you're twenty, you bastard! You can't have a kid!"
Conor started to become protective, nearly forgetting Ned was the father too, "So, I should've just let him rot, is that what you're saying? I came to greet you, welcome you, and ease you into these new surroundings, only to get lectured on my life decisions. I don't want this life, Ned, I want to care for my son so that he can have your life." Conor retorted, swiftly picking little Ned up and scurrying away.
After a few blocks—close to the apartment—Conor felt a tear in the crook of his neck, where Ned rested his head. "We don't need him, Dad."
Conor tried to stay strong, "Yeah, we don't."
They turned into a restaurant and were quickly seated. Ned never took a look at the coloring pages or crosswords of the kids menus, but found what he wanted and then resorted to talking or fiddling with something. Ned proceeded to rest his small head on the table, staring at his glass of water. This is exactly what Conor feared. He'd never tell anyone but when Ned was first born he was scared that he would turn out like his father and then his kid would have nobody. He'd done his best to be what he wanted as a father, but right now he looked and saw himself being disappointed as a young boy because father valued drinking over him.
Soon a boy bustled in with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, moving as he ran in and took a seat at their table. He remained quiet, little Ned's eyes gleaming as he looked at the person who brought him into this world. "Conor, I just meant that it's a harder choice. It's admirable, but harder."
"I'm okay with that."
"What's his name?" Ned looked oddly towards the small boy, not being to attached.
"Ned Daniel Masters." Little Ned proudly pounced at the chance to present himself.
"Ned?" Ned looked questionably towards Conor.
"I.T was the name of his birthmother's grandpa." Ned nodded in understanding, looking awkward as he didn't know how to interact with the toddler.
"What's on his wrist?" Ned noticed.
"A pulse monitor." Ned looked scared towards Conor, "He has a weak heart." Conor stated.
"Oh." Ned blanked. "I'm Ned."
"I know."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Okay, do you go to school?"
"Yeah."
"Have any friends?"
"No."
"Me either." Ned laughed. Conor watched as the father and son conversed—thinking that this is how it should've been all along. "Your father was a great friend, though, and I'm sure a great father." Ned commented, smiling a bit with a hint of sadness behind his pearly teeth. With a glimpse, Conor noticed this but didn't point it out in front of little Ned. After a moment of talking, Ned checked the time on his phone and nearly sprung from the chair he'd pulled over. "Bastard!" He huffed under his breath, " My roommate left the sink running and plugged the drain." He quickly explained, giving a loom of apology and frustration towards Conor, slung his messenger bad over his shoulder and disappeared as fast as he had arrived.
Little Ned waited until his father had fully gone from vision, "Dad," Ned drearily said with his head hanging down to his rising chest, Conor worrying about Ned's opinion on his other parent. "He's amazing." Ned looked up, a mall tear leaving one of his hazel eyes.
"I know." Conor sadly retorted, cutting up Ned's food for him.