“My brothers and I were playing disc golf out at Woodward Park the other day and found one of your Frisbees.”
“Oh. Awesome. I guess putting the info on the back really works.”
“Yeah. So what do you want me to do with it?” Disc golf Frisbees weren’t like standard cheapie plastic things. They were weighted and high-quality, so I knew she’d want it back. I happened to glance up at Nathan, and he was clutching the Frisbee in two hands, staring at me.
“Can I come get it, maybe?” Lauren asked. “Do you live near Woodward?”
“Not really. We’re actually about five minutes east of the mall, by Hillman Park.”
“Oh, cool, that’s not too far from me. Will you text me your address?”
“Yes, but I’m getting ready to leave. My brother Nathan will be here, though.” And he owed me big for this.
“Okay. Thanks.”
I hung up, then texted her our address.
“Did she sound cute?” he asked.
“Nope, she sounded like a big, burly girl. Have fun.”
I lay on my bed, throwing a soccer ball in the air over and over. It was midnight. I couldn’t face sleep. I wondered if Gage, whose room shared a wall with mine, was going to come over and tell me to be quiet. I caught the ball with a loud smack and then pulled my arm back, poised to hurl it against the wall this time. That would wake him.
I sighed and let it roll off my fingertips instead, landing on the floor with a thud. I didn’t want to talk to Gage. I wanted to talk to Braden. I needed to apologize. That’s why my bedroom light was still on, after all—a hope that he would see it. His room was dark, though. I sat up and planted my feet on the ground. Forcing myself to stand up, I walked to the light switch and flipped it off, then lay back down again.
The curtains on my bedroom window weren’t drawn tightly closed, and a strip of light from the moon cut across my ceiling. It was as if the moon were trying to tell me to stop being so stubborn. I stood again and marched down the stairs and outside. Then I sat there in the dirt by the fence. I should’ve just texted him, but I couldn’t. What if he ignored it? At least this way if he didn’t come, I could tell myself it was because he was asleep.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed as I sat there. Long enough for me to wonder why I was still sitting there. I stood and paced the fence. If he didn’t come out by the time I counted to fifty, I’d go back inside and forget about this. I started my count. When I reached forty-nine, I decided that one hundred was a much better number. I needed to give him a chance, after all. Fifty seconds was barely more time than a center got to snap a football.
The numbers ticked through my head, one for each step I took along the fence line. “Seventy-six,” I whispered aloud, my bare foot landing on a rock. “Ouch.” I stopped and clenched my fists. This was ridiculous. Just as I turned to head back to the house, I heard his back door snick shut. I whirled to face the fence again and watched him walk slowly toward it. He didn’t know I was there. I should call out to him. If he did know I was there, would he tell me how heartless I was for what I said the other night?
I was surprised when he walked right up to my board and leaned his forehead against it. “Hey,” he said.
I leaned into the board as well. “Hi,” I whispered. “I didn’t think you could see me.”
“You’re wearing white. It practically glows through the cracks.”
I looked down at my basketball camp T-shirt. “Oh.”
“Are you still mad at me?” he asked.
“No . . .” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Relief flooded my body. I had missed him more than I realized. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For what I said about your mom and dad. My family is far from perfect—you know that as well as anyone. I’m sorry for turning it around on you. I was just surprised.” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my sweats. “Maybe my mom was different than I imagined her.”
“Your family is pretty amazing, Charles.” I heard him draw in a deep breath. Maybe he was relieved we were talking again too. “I shouldn’t have said that about your mom. I wasn’t thinking. Here you were upset you couldn’t remember anything about her and what do I do? Give you these depressing memories that aren’t even yours. There were so many reasons she could’ve been sad. Maybe your brothers were fighting too much that day and she was at her wit’s end. She had four kids in six years. That had to get overwhelming at times.”
Unlike when we sat back-to-back against the fence, I could feel his breath seep through the crack and touch my cheeks. I still didn’t open my eyes. We were so close that the air smelled like him. I didn’t realize I knew how Braden smelled until that moment. “Thank you.” I twisted, turning away from his scent, which was making my head spin. I put my back to the fence once again, then looked up at the night stars.
He didn’t do the same thing, because his voice was crystal clear next to my ear. “My dad is a jerk and my mom should leave him.”
“No. I shouldn’t have said that. He’s sick. If he would just stop drinking—”
“It didn’t start five years ago. I mean, the drinking did, but he was always a jerk. You know that. The alcohol just makes it worse. Why do you think I claimed your dad was mine at school that day? I wanted him to be mine. I wanted to be in your family.”
“You are in our family.”
“No, I’m not.”
“In all the ways that matter. I told you the other night that you’re stuck. You can’t disown us now.”
“I don’t want to,” he whispered. My heart thought that was the time to beat out of control. I tried to respond, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. The fence between us had never felt like a barrier to me. It had always felt like protection—the only reason I was able to say some of the things I could out here. But tonight, I wanted to feel him next to me. I wanted to comfort him.
He took two deep breaths, then said, “You missed one of the funniest tantrums ever on the field the other day over a supposed foul.”
I relaxed, glad he changed the subject. My reaction had proved it was getting too intense. “George?”
“Of course.”
“Who fouled him?”
“That’s the point. Nobody fouled him.”
“So you did, then. What did you do?”