“Yeah.”
“Whoa! With?”
“Seamus.”
“Holy crap!” Dave looks at Mitch. They can’t believe it.
“What happened?”
I go through the basic story, but they want more, so I launch into a play-by-play with all the gory details.
Mitch says, “Cool!”
Dave smacks me on the back and sends my English books flying across the hall. “I’m proud of you, man!”
I don’t feel proud exactly.
At recess we head outside. When you walk around with a smashed-up face, people assume you have a story to tell. I get a lot of fist bumps from guys who know my brother. Everyone’s interested. Everyone except Theresa, that is. She doesn’t even ask. She wouldn’t care if I was black and blue and bleeding out as long as I listened to her problems.
As we’re walking back into the school for third period, some chick I don’t even know comes up to me and touches my face! I jump back and hit a signpost.
“Oooh, black eyes are so hot!” She flips her hair over her shoulder and looks back to watch me as she’s walking away with her friends. She makes sure I’m looking at her before she turns to talk to the girl beside her. She keeps watching me out of the corner of her eye. Through their giggling, I hear, “Adorable!” “Oh my god!” “Cute!” I hope no one can tell I’m turning red. What is wrong with them?
Mitch and Dave think it’s hilarious and start to paw at my face. “Oh, adorable, oh my god! Your bruises turn me on!”
“Shut the fuck up!” I lunge at Dave, but he’s faster than me.
Sometimes Dave reminds me of a monkey or a boxer, always bouncing around. One moment he’s on my right. Then he’s behind me. Then he’s talking to someone else. It’s like keeping track of a fruit fly.
By the time the dismissal bell rings, I’m sick of my own story.
After school Mitch and I kill some time together. He and Dave are going to his place after the variety-show rehearsal. Dave’s been doing his crazy backflips for years, and he gets in trouble for it all the time. Now that he’s in the variety show, the same teachers who give him shit are making him a celebrity. I’ve decided to drop in at Kate’s later. I keep hearing Mandy crying in the kitchen after the fight. I want to see her, tell her it’s okay. Besides, I really don’t want to deal with Mom.
I’m in the hallway, laughing at old graduation pictures of goofy-looking kids who went here in the sixties. Mitch is sitting at the back of the gym, watching the rehearsal. He sticks his head out the door and gestures wildly for me to come in. Normally, Mitch is sloth-like. There’s only one thing that gets him that riled up.
“There’s chicks d-a-n-c-i-n-g, dude. C’mon!” I can tell by the way he takes a long time to say dancing that he thinks they’re hot. Rhianna is playing on the sound system. I drag myself over, my hands in my jacket pockets, shuffling my boots.
A bunch of girls are on the stage doing hip-hop. Two are in front with their hands over their heads, turning while they swing their hips around in circles to the music. Their sweats are rolled down at the waist, and their shirts are tied above their belly buttons. Pretty hot, all right.
Then I realize one of them is Little Miss Perfect.
“Whoa! Dude! It’s your tutor!”
I try to act cool, but I’m in shock. It’s hard to take my eyes off her. She looks so…different. I pretend I don’t care and hope Mitch hasn’t seen my eyes become saucers. “Yeah. So?”
“So! So she’s like, whoa.” He’s gesturing the outline of a curvy female body with his hands, grinning like a total sleazeball.
“Don’t be an asshole.”
He gawks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What’s wrong with you? Since when are you Mr. Appropriate? She’s hot, man. I don’t care what you say.”
She is hot. And the way she’s moving her body, those hips! But I can’t let him know what I’m thinking. I’ll never hear the end of it. They tease me enough about what I do with Little Miss Perfect. Besides, I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be feeling this way about my tutor.
“Whatever.” She’s not the only hip-hop dancer I’ve seen. It’s no big deal. There’s a lot of good-looking girls at school.
Mitch shakes his head, but his eyes are fixed on the dancers. Especially on Leah. It bugs me the way he’s staring. She’s my tutor.
Bam! I’m bodychecked from behind, and the breath is knocked out of me. I belt out a horrible gagging sound and go stumbling into the gym. Behind me, Dave is doubled over laughing. Why are my friends such assholes?
“She’s pretty cute, eh?” He’s been watching us watching her.
The music’s still playing, but the girls onstage and the teacher in charge of the rehearsal are squinting and glaring at us under the bright stage lights. We’ve completely shut down their practice. The rest of the gym is almost dark. I’m hoping Leah won’t be able to tell it’s me. The three of us trip over each other trying to sneak out.
“Boys!” The teacher is shielding her eyes. She’s not letting us off that easy. “I’d like to see you, please, up here under the light.” She motions for us to come forward. My heart starts pounding even faster. Mitch, Dave and I come out from the shadows, heads down. “David? Is that you back there?”
Dave mumbles sheepishly, trying to be cute. “Yes, Miss.” She threatens to make us come up onstage and rehearse with the girls unless we beat it. Some of them giggle. Leah shoots daggers at me.
We leave the gym as quickly and quietly as we can, eyes on the floor, apologizing under our breath. But I can’t help it. I sneak another look. She catches me. She’s got her hands on her hips, and she’s shaking her head. My feet keep walking, but my mind is in the gym, stuck on Little Miss Perfect. She’s not supposed to be hot.
Mitch and Dave are giggling like little kids who just got in trouble. I don’t find it as funny, so I hang back. They’re pissing me off. They realize I’m not laughing along, and they start acting all proper instead. I still don’t laugh.
“Hey, man. We’re sorry. I guess that was kind of immature, in front of your tutor and everything.” Dave hangs his head, mocking me. Mitch is smiling.
“Forget it. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” We start walking together again.
“So you really decked him?” Dave asks as he shadowboxes around Mitch.
“Yup.”
“Dekkie the Decker!” He jabs my bicep—right, left, right, left.
“Cut it out. I probably broke his nose.”
“Gimme a break. A lotta guys wish they could break your brother’s nose.” He fakes an upper cut into Mitch’s jaw. Mitch swats him, and Dave flies across the hall like an insect.
“And if they tried it, I’d break theirs.” Forgetting I’m not actually the Hulk, I smash my sore hand into a locker. Stupid.
Dave recovers from being airmailed and drops his imaginary gloves. “Man, when are you going to stop being all ‘he’s my big brother’? We get it. But he’s an asshole. I’m sure he’s sittin’ around with his buds worrying about you! It’s about time somebody broke his nose.” He goes back to annoying Mitch.
His words sting, but I know he’s right. He’s been with me through everything—the divorce, Seamus…everything.
He shrugs. “I swear, Declan. If either one of us saw him lay a hand on you, we’d kill him.”
Mitch grabs me in a headlock and rubs his knuckles on my scalp so hard it hurts. Dave rams his shoulder into my back. They act like it’s a joke, but I know they mean it. They’d kill him.
We stay far away from the gym, but we’re not supposed to be wandering around the school either, so we have to keep a lookout for Mr. Peters. Mitch writes Dekkie + Leah with a big heart around it in every open classroom in the math hallway. I try to keep up, erasing his artwork behind him as he goes. Luckily, Mr. Jamieson’s door is locked, because the guys want to trash his room or piss in the garbage can or somet
hing. That’s all I’d need.
Dave sits down at the piano in the dance studio. He took lessons when he was a little kid, but he wouldn’t practice, so his mom stopped paying for them. He taught himself instead, and he’s pretty good. I honestly think he’s some kind of a genius. It makes me wonder why he still hangs around with us.
We listen to Dave play “Paradise” by Coldplay for a while, but Mitch and I ruin it by singing along with the ooh-ooh-oohs.
In one of the classrooms we find a yardstick and pretend to be Mr. Jamieson, smashing it on desks, until we hear someone coming. We crouch behind the teacher’s desk. When it’s clear, I see a mug on the desk and get the great idea to use it and the yardstick for a game of mini-putt. I turn the teacher’s coffee mug on its side and crumple paper from the recycling bin into little balls. I win because Mitch and Dave both suck and can’t get a single ball in the cup. Now who’s the genius?
Walking together to the bus stop, Dave asks me why I came late to class this morning. I tell him Miss Fraser dragged me into her office. “She wanted to know about Seamus and the fight. I guess she knew Seamus before all the crap with my parents. Anyway, she freaked me out, asking all these questions about my family like she knew something.” I lock eyes with Dave. “I couldn’t wait to get out of there.”
“What about your family?” Mitch asks.
Dave’s eyebrows shoot up, and his eyes dart from me to Mitch, then back again.
“My parents’ divorce.”
“It was complicated,” Dave says.
“Most divorces are,” Mitch replies.
“Really complicated,” Dave says.
“It’s nothing,” I say to Mitch. I don’t want to go there. I never talk about the divorce and what happened to my family. Only Dave knows why my dad really left. Just thinking about it gets me upset.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing. You’re making it seem like this big thing.”
“It was a pretty big thing.” Dave’s nodding wildly.
“It wasn’t that big a thing.” I push Dave out of the way, but he pushes me right back. He’s not going to let up.
“It was so a big thing.”
“Fuck off. It wasn’t.” I’m lying, and Dave knows it.
“Will one of you weirdos tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“My dad had—” I try to say it, but I get stuck.
“His dad had an affair.” Dave nudges me to keep going.
“Yeah, an affair.”
Mitch is waiting for more. “So? That’s it? Your dad had an affair? That’s the big family secret?”
Dave pushes me aside now and stands square in front of Mitch. “Declan’s dad had an affair with a dude. His dad turned gay!”
I freeze. I can feel those words in the air.
Dave looks relieved.
Mitch’s mouth widens into a huge, silent O. After a few seconds he speaks. “Oh! Crap! That is big. I had no idea!”
“Yeah. I don’t talk about it. Now you know why.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t talk about it.”
I glare at Dave. “Shut up.”
Mitch faces Dave. “You knew.”
“It was fifth grade. I was there for the whole thing.”
Mitch has his hands in his pockets. He swings back to me. “You could have told me. I have a gay uncle, you know, so I’d have been cool with it.”
My turn for the jaw drop.
“So, like, in five years you’ve never talked to your dad because he’s gay? I just assumed he was in jail for murder or something.” It sounds stupid when Mitch says it. “You should talk to your dad. What if he’s really cool, like my uncle? You’ll never know.”
Mitch has a great relationship with his dad. They go shopping and smoke up together and shit like that.
“I’m not ready for that.” I’m not sure I’ll ever be. I have to admit, the last thing I ever wondered about my dad was whether he was cool. It’s not cool to ditch your family, especially not for some gay asshole.
Mitch slaps me on the back, then keeps his arm around my shoulders. “If you ever do want to talk, I’m here, bro, anytime.”
I nod. “Yeah, sure.” I’m stunned. I’ve held this inside for so long. I expected there to be more of a bang when it all came out. Instead, it’s just a fizzle. I was always afraid of being ditched or hassled if people knew about Dad. Kids get teased and humiliated for way less than that. I’ve been mocked for living in a trailer. But with Mitch, it seems like the opposite is true.
We make our way outside in time to take a couple of drags. Leah’s nearby, waiting for a lift with her friends from the variety show and laughing, which makes her curly hair jiggle around her shoulders. She’s not wearing her matching hat and mittens. I’m embarrassed after what happened in the gym, but I finally screw up enough courage to nod and wave from the curb. She gives me the smallest smile, like she’s hiding it from her friends, then turns her back on me.
A wolf whistle peels out, long and clear. I spin around and catch Dave grinning proudly, and then I turn back to Leah. There’s no question that she knows who whistled and who it was meant for. She acts all disgusted, and her friends give us the evil eye. I’m relieved when a fancy big-ass SUV picks them up and drives away.
Screw her. I felt stupid enough going to tutoring. What a waste of a Tuesday night. It’s hard to imagine making things any worse than they already are, but my friends found a way. On the other hand, I’m still stunned by Mitch’s reaction to my secret. Apparently, true friendship has no limits.
I wave to the guys as the bus pulls away and leaves me standing on the street alone. There’s a storm building inside me. A ball of energy is sitting in my chest, making me want to cry or laugh or scream at the top of my lungs like I’m a crazy person. I want to understand why I feel this way. I want to know why life has to be so confusing, how you can expect a bang and get a fizzle, and how you can want someone and hate them, all at the same time.
Thirteen
It feels good to be on my own, breathing in the winter air as I walk to Kate’s. Even though it just snowed, you can tell it’s getting warmer. Next Thursday is March 21, and it’ll officially be spring. Every year at Harwood High the Little Miss Perfects and all the other suck-ups organize a stupid dance called the Spring Fling. Everyone knows it’s next Friday, because some peppy girl talks about it on the intercom every morning.
Yeah right. I’m going to go back to school on Friday night to stand around and watch drunk people grinding in the gym. The only thing flinging would be my supper.
It’s still sunny as I walk down the hill into town. Kate and Ryan live in Hudson too, in a condo right near the park. They should all be home now. If I play my cards right, I can score an invitation for dinner—as long as they let me in. I have no idea what they think after last night. There’s fresh, sticky snow everywhere. Perfect for snowballs. Before turning down the street to my sister’s place, I pack a good one and wing it at the stop sign. Bong! Snow sticks to the sign so it says STUP. Yes!
Ryan’s car is out front, and the lights are on in the living room. I clear the steps by kicking aside as much snow as I can on the way up and ring the bell. I’m nervous.
Kate answers the door. She doesn’t even say hi, and the look on her face tells me she’s not exactly happy to see me. She notices the cuts and bruises on my face and wrinkles up her nose.
“Hi, Kate. Can I come in? I thought I’d come and take Mandy to the park.”
She still hasn’t opened the door all the way, and for a second I think she isn’t going to let me in. She must be really mad. She looks behind her and says, “It’s Declan” to someone inside. There’s a pause, as if she’s waiting for an answer.
She opens her mouth to speak and then changes her mind and exhales. “Sure, Declan.” She finally opens the door all the way.
I untie my boots in the front hallway. When I stand up, she motions me in
to the living room, where my eyes land on a man who is holding Mandy. Not Ryan. This man’s older. Balding. With thinning, long blond hair, same color as mine, pulled back in a ponytail. Bushy reddish-blond mustache. Wide-set blue eyes.
He looks like me. Our eyes lock for a moment.
Dad.
Of course. It’s the only thing that hasn’t happened to me yet today.
Mandy has her hand up like she’s going to wave, but she senses something’s wrong and stops. My instinct is to do an about-face and run out the door. But first I turn to Kate, shocked.
Dad’s eyes travel from me to Kate, then to the floor. He’s not enjoying this surprise any more than I am.
“Declan! Mommy, look at Dekkie’s face! Ooh, it’s got a boo-boo! Grandpa, Dekkie and Seamus had a fight. Look at Dekkie’s boo-boo!”
Grandpa?
Mandy’s wiggling around, so Dad’s having trouble holding on to her.
“She’s been worried about you, Declan. She keeps asking if you’re all right,” Kate says.
I ignore her. “I’m fine, Mandy. I came to say I’m sorry. For fighting in front of you. We shouldn’t have done that. Sorry, kiddo.” While I’m speaking to her, I have to look at my father, because he’s holding her. He nods at me and seems to be trying to smile.
“It’s okay.” She reaches her hand out to me. “Love you! Grandpa’s here for supper. Are you coming for supper?” She’s expecting me to stay. But I can’t. Her little hand drops, and she looks back and forth between me and Dad.
“Nah, I gotta go. Grammy’s waiting for me. I just wanted to say hi.” I blow her a kiss, which she catches in her hand. She throws one back at me, but her forehead is wrinkled and her head is tipped to one side.
Dad puts her down but keeps his hands on her shoulders. She reaches up to hold his wrists. He lets her pull off his watch so she can play with it.
I can’t stand being here, watching him with Mandy. I’m crawling out of my skin.
The minute it takes to get my boots back on is the longest minute of my life. You could play guitar on the tension in Kate’s front hall. Kate keeps making these little sighing noises, and it pisses me off. I can’t wait to leave, and as I’m rushing I break a shoelace. I stuff the loose ends into my boot. I can’t get out fast enough.
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