Dead to You - Page 18/48

CHAPTER 18

The days crawl along and I get through them, doing most of my homework and flirting a little, not too much. I’ve been here a week. It still feels weird. Sometimes I just have to go detox down in the basement, in my little cubby of boxes.

On Friday, J-Dog stakes me out and asks if I got a ticket to the stupid basketball game.

“No,” I say. “I don’t have anybody to go with.”

“The whole junior class sits together. Get a ticket. You’ll get to know some people.”

“I don’t have any money.”

J-Dog looks around and spies somebody. “Hey, Zack, you got two bucks for my new friend Ethan? He needs a game ticket.”

“Sure thing,” Zack says. “Can do you one better. Here’s mine. I’ll go buy another one.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” J-Dog says.

I watch this all. I don’t understand it, why these jocks are nice to me, but I take the ticket. “Why do you want me to go so bad?”

“Because we’re hospitable here at Belleville High. And everybody—EVERYBODY—goes to see the J-Dog play. ’Specially my homies. I like you, little E-Dog. You’re scrappy. And you’re a survivor, man. Look at you, finding your way back home from that creepy woman. You’re like a hero or a celebrity or something. You ever play hoops? You should.”

I’ve never played basketball outside of shitty PE classes. I ignore the question. “I’ll try to get a ride.”

“You call the J-Dog if you need a ride. I’ll have my people come get you. Okay? Just be there. Five-eight-six-J-Dog.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” J-Dog peers at me, apparently satisfied, and lets me go as the bell rings.

When we get home from school, Dad’s already there. Mama’s putting Gracie’s hair in braids. “What’s going on?” Blake asks. He grabs a granola bar from the cupboard and rips it open.

“We’re going to the basketball game,” Mama says.

“What?” Blake freezes, granola bar nearly to his mouth.

“You heard her,” Gracie says. She sticks her nose in the air.

“We don’t go to games. We never go anywhere,” Blake says. I can tell he’s got a bug up his butt, the way he’s winding up.

“We’re going to start now,” Mama says. “We’ve got a child in high school, and it’s my alma mater too, you know. It’s something we should have been doing for a long time. A good family tradition.”

“I’m not going,” Blake says. “I’m not sitting with you.”

“Yes, you are.” Mama has a look in her eye I wouldn’t want to go up against.

Blake shakes his head, incredulous, and stomps off to the bedroom. “Why not just torture me instead?”

I stay out of his way.

Ellen would call him a hothead.

It’s snowing again. Inside the field house entryway, the floor is slick with filthy slush. Black carpets gush when you step on them, but the ones closer to the basketball courts are only damp. I wipe my shoes off and look around for familiar faces. There are people everywhere—students and families. It’s like the major event of Belleville or something.

I see some of Cami’s friends from the bus stop and the butterflies in my gut slow down a little bit. At least I know where to go.

I turn to Dad. “Is it cool if I sit with my, uh, friends?”

Dad looks alarmed. “Where?”

“Just right over there, Dad. I’ll meet you here at this coatrack after the game.”

“I—I don’t know. Maria? What do you think?”

“What?” Mama says.

“He wants to sit with his friends.”

Mama hesitates, but only for a second, and then she gives me a strained smile. “That’s a great idea. Of course. When you’re in high school, you have to. That’s what I always did too. Junior section is there, isn’t it?” She points.

I nod. “I’ll meet you right here after the game. I’ll be fine,” I add. “I have my cell phone if you need me.”

Blake stands there looking pissed, and Gracie just stares at all the people.

“Okay,” Mama says. “Have fun. Don’t miss out on the halftime show. It’s usually pretty interesting.”

“Right,” I say, and I take off for the bleachers. It feels like everybody’s watching me. I think I might puke, I’m so nervous. I climb up the steps between sections and see the guy, Zack, who gave me his ticket.

“Hey,” I say uncertainly.

“Hey, new guy. Glad you made it. Told you everybody comes to these. There’s competitions between the classes.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say. I totally have to pee.

Zack and his friends shove down on the bench to make room, and I sit. There’s a band playing, and everybody’s shouting and talking. I can feel drum vibrations in my chest. It’s kind of thrilling, actually. Zack hollers to the people down the row and I just sit and watch, trying to calm down.

The cheerleaders come out and start jumping around. One girl looks familiar, like she’s in one of my classes. Math, I think. She’s pretty. I think about being with her. God, I’d give anything to just hold a girl. It’s been a long time—nobody wants to hold a homeless guy. It’s like my skin is aching for it.

I watch the people coming up the bleacher steps, and then I see Cami. She climbs up and stops when she sees me. Breaks into a big smile.