Trout and Me
Page 10
I was quiet all the rest of the way to school. I was actually afraid that if I spoke, I’d cry, so I didn’t speak and didn’t dare look at Trout.
“Did you know you were moving last night when you were over at my house?” I asked finally.
“Nope. He told me this morning.”
“So after the meeting.”
He nodded.
I put my stuff in my locker, got out my language arts book, shut the locker door, and waited for Trout to finish getting organized. The halls were crowded and a few kids from the fifth grade gave me a swinging pat on the shoulder or knocked up against me in a friendly way, so I guessed their parents had told them that Trout and me are okay guys. A couple of kids stopped and talked to Trout too.
“So are we still doing Meg’s plan?” Trout asked.
“Sure,” I said. There were only two more weeks to summer vacation.
“Maybe today she’ll give us eight cigarettes,” he said.
“Right. Steal them from Max.”
All morning I had trouble concentrating, more even than usual. I couldn’t stop thinking about Trout moving away and it made me a little sick, as if I were coming down with the flu.
It wasn’t until we were on the blacktop at gym, standing on the edge of the basketball court without any particular plan for something to do, that Trout talked about the meeting with the parents. I could tell that he had something to say, but he didn’t say anything until the bell rang and kids started running past us on their way up the steps and into the building.
“So what’s up?” I asked.
“My dad told me this morning that I’m your best friend.”
“You knew that,” I said.
“He says you told everyone in the whole auditorium, all the parents and stuff.”
“I did.”
“That’s what he said.”
I gave him a funny look.
“You’re weird,” I said.
He shrugged.
“I guess you know you’re my best friend too,” he said. “Even when I move to New Hampshire. I won’t get another like you.”
It was a hot day and we were standing on the blacktop with sun beating down on us, blinding our view, the last kids on the playground, the final bell ringing.
“We could bolt,” I said. “Go someplace like Montana.”
“For the day? I’ve got a dentist’s appointment tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, just for the day. We’ll be back by dinner.”
“Then let’s get our stuff and head to Montana,” Trout said.
And we raced up the back steps of Stockton Elementary, running into the building just as the last bell stopped ringing.
We went to Montana, just the two of us, a couple thousand miles from New Jersey, rode horses up in the mountains, and then got home in time for dinner. I mean, we were a little late, of course.
“Montana?” my father asked us when we walked in the front door. “That’s a long way away. Did you have a good time?”
“We had a great time,” I said. “We can go anyplace together, even when Trout moves to New Hampshire.”
So I’m not surprised I thought it was Trout on the front steps of Stockton Elementary this morning. We have big imaginations, especially Trout.
Published by
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Copyright © 2002 by Susan Shreve
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eISBN: 978-0-307-56078-0
July 2004
v3.0