We’re in front of the new Starbucks. It just opened last month, but the crowd of white people sitting inside look like they’ve been parked there for years.
“This is me,” says Tonya. “Summer job.” She hugs Luke. “Drop by and say hi before you head out of town. I’ll beat you at chess one last time.”
Luke points to me. “Little bro here won a regional chess tournament this year.”
“Awwww, congrats, Little!” she says, patting me again even though I hold out my arms for a hug like Luke’s.
“Um … grank …” It’s like a jar of peanut butter and rocks!
Tonya smiles and goes inside.
Luke gently knocks me upside the head. “Grank? Is that some kind of secret nerd language? Like how are you even a debate champion?” He laughs.
“Ow, shut up,” I mutter, and we keep walking. I can feel the sweat patch growing on my back, under my backpack. Now I can smell the chlorine in the city pool before we see it. I hear the kind of screams and yells that mean people are having fun. I swallow and keep my head down as we pass. The story goes that Dad was the swim instructor in the family – he taught Luke, and even Mom. Since I missed out, Luke was supposed to take over the job, but I’ve been putting it off.
Luke glances at me. “I hope your summer list includes things like talking to girls and learning to swim … maybe you can meet a lifeguard and do them both at the same time.”
I wonder if Luke would think it’s silly that I’ve been taking notes on how he has what Mom calls suave bola. He’s so smooth! Luke had a girlfriend when he was twelve, and even though all they did was walk down the hall holding hands every Monday, I’m still behind. “I don’t need to swim to meet a girl. I know a lot of girls,” I say. “I just have to … make up my mind.”
“The problem is what happens once they get to know you,” says Luke, laughing again. “And they make up their minds!”
We’re on our block, and he counts down our usual race to the door. Whoever loses has to clean the bathroom for a week, which is, like, the Chore Vortex of Torment. “Three, two, one … GO!” he shouts. It was a couple of years before I realized that he always gives me a head start. I never said anything, though. But today he starts running at the same time that I do, and he’s opening the door when I’m still running up the front steps.
“Good thing I just bought a new pair of rubber gloves,” he says, smiling, when we’re both inside, breathing hard. “See how I’m always thinking? Have fun, little bro. And you’re not going to talk me into doing it with you. You and the toilet brush are on your own.”
Chapter Three
“Here’s to summer!” WeeDee folds two slices of pizza together and shoves them both into his mouth. He raises his arms like he just won a prize, and Billy high-fives him hard enough that he falls back on the park bench and almost chokes on his pizza. We’ve had a few days to shake the stench of school off; the park isn’t quite middle-of-summer full, so we’re not getting any side eye for being big (-ish, in my case) kids on the playground. My two best friends are technically older than me. Technically—they don’t always act like it. They were Luke’s friends first, and since I was always with him, they became mine too. Deep down I know we wouldn’t be friends at all if it hadn’t been for Luke. But since they’re my only friends, I don’t think too much about that. The truth is, Luke’s been hanging with a different crowd lately. I wonder if they’re feeling as left behind as I am.
Today is our first official hangout day of summer. It’s always been the four of us, but Luke told me that he was going to be with his girlfriend, Taleisha, all day. I get that he’s gonna miss her next year, but this is a tradition!
WeeDee and Billy and me, we haven’t changed. This park has though, little by little. The new swings and slide make me wish I was little again, to be honest. But we have to be extra careful about what side of the park we hang out on, because there are strict rules now about where big kids can be. They don’t get screamed on like that time Luke and I did when we were racing through the park. Sometimes even white kids like WeeDee and Billy get a little side eye when they fool around too much in the baby section. There’s a group of women doing yoga on what used to be our makeshift soccer field. And the battle between the icee lady and the ice cream truck ended when they both got banned by the new Parents’ Association. There’s a farmer’s market here every Wednesday now. That’s cool and whatever, but I miss my chocolate with chocolate sprinkles.
Still, it’s the only park left in the neighborhood, and we’d just started a movie marathon at my house when Mom gave us money to buy a couple of pies from Esposito’s so she could have the place to herself for studying. Save the Last Dance had begun, and normally I’d take the opportunity to demonstrate some real moves, instead of whatever they think they’re doing in that movie, but pizza is pizza. Esposito’s is the only pizza in town at this point. There used to be three; luckily, Esposito’s is the best. Mom always grumbles about how their prices have gone up because of all the new white people in the neighborhood, but she’s so desperate to study that she coughed up two twenties.
“Yo, that stroller is pretty sweet,” says WeeDee as a red-haired woman with a ponytail walks toward us. The stroller she’s pushing does look like it could have power steering and a V-8 engine.
“Yeah,” says Billy, from behind a jawful of pizza. “They didn’t have rides that smooth when I was a baby. I should ask my parents to get me one now.” We laugh, and Red Ponytail frowns at us and walks faster. She joins up with two more white women and their fancy strollers, and I look around the park. I’m one of two Black people here. Mom’s been saying that we’re being “displaced and replaced” every day, and right now, I feel it.
“Guys,” I say. “Focus. Since we’re out here, let’s caucus. I have a lot to plan for my last summer with Luke, and if you’re gonna to be a part of it, we gotta get organized. He hasn’t had time to brainstorm with me, and he’ll be pretty disappointed if we don’t get it together before he leaves for school.”
“Sounds like a real fun start to summer,” says Billy. “I’m sure Luke is on the edge of his seat, waiting for this master plan.”
“Did you just say caucus?” asks WeeDee. I can see the chewed up food in his mouth. “And you’re reminding me that I have to pick up an SAT practice book for the summer. Not cool, Emmett.”
“We don’t need books, we’ve got Emmett,” says Billy. “That’s why we keep him around, to give us big words in context and the answers on tests.”
“Ha-ha,” I say. “Good thing I’m in a jocular mood.”
“See what I mean?” says Billy, and he high-fives WeeDee.
“I was being sarcastic, boneheads.” I sigh.
“Anyway,” says WeeDee, “Luke said he was thinking of getting a real summer job, so he’d have money for school in the fall. He’s not gonna have a whole lot of free time.”
“He’s gonna work at the Y like he did last year,” I say. “That leaves lots of time.”
“I think he meant another job,” says WeeDee.
“You must have heard him wrong. He never told me about a new job. But we have been talking about watching movies. I can tell he’s gonna miss our movie marathons. We don’t have a movie theater in the neighborhood anymore—”
“We don’t have a lot of things anymore,” says Billy. “All my dad does is complain about how SuperMart is gone and that fancy organic grocery store charges eight bucks for a dozen eggs.”
“So I was thinking, well, Luke and I were thinking that we could do the movie marathon thing bigger and better, invite more people, maybe even sell tickets!” I’m coming up with ideas as I talk, and I’m getting excited because I’m sure Luke will love this. “We do this right, it could be a gold mine. Luke will have all the money he needs, he knows that.”
WeeDee shrugs and looks away. A baby cries.
“Maybe Triff could join us for movie watching,” says Billy, who never seems to miss a chance to bring his new girlfriend int
o the conversation these days.
“Oh yeah, then Lana might hang out too,” says WeeDee. “Wouldn’t it be great if they became friends?” He low-fives Billy, then they both look at me and look away. I’m cool with the fact that they both have girlfriends now. Good for them. I stay unbothered, but they keep making a big deal out of it.
“Oh, maybe Luke will get Taleisha—” starts Billy,
“Are we trying to plan a couples’ retreat?” I snap.
They exchange a look. “Dude,” say WeeDee gently, like I’m an old lady he’s helping across the street. “It’s just that you’re too young for the girls we know and—”
Not brains-wise, though,” interjects Billy. “Your brains are way old and huge.”
“Wayyy huge. Like disproportionately, since you’re, um, smaller-framed, er …”
“Can we NOT talk about my big brains and tiny body?” I shout. A little boy on the swings starts to cry, and his adult glares at me. “Sorry!” I call out. I lower my voice. “Can we just get back to planning so I can update Luke later?”
“Oh, we have to work around summer swim team though,” says WeeDee. “Do you want to do it this year? It’s really fun!”
What my friends, and my family for that matter, don’t seem to understand is that I don’t swim. I guess they get the fact that I can’t. But they keep thinking that I will, one day. That I even want to. And they’re WRONG. Dad was supposed to teach me, and he’s not here.
“No thanks,” I say. “Water and I are like … like water and oil. Anyway, focus. Film festival. What should our theme be? I asked Luke for ideas, but he hasn’t given me anything yet.”
“Maybe Luke has found a higher purpose,” says Billy.
“A mission! A calling!” WeeDee stands on the bench as he yells, and now a little girl starts crying. Her adult looks like Bruce Banner and stares us down so hard it feels like he just might turn into the Hulk. WeeDee sits down.
“Whatever, you guys need to chill. I know Luke, he’s got my back on this. He always does. You should have seen him shut Mac down the other day.”
“He told us,” says Billy. “I guess it’ll be weird for you to handle Mac on your own next year. Not that you can’t, of course … It’s just … weird. For all of us.”
This is the moment in a movie when WeeDee would say, “But don’t worry we got you,” and Billy would be all, “Yeah! Of course! Bros forever!” But nobody says anything for a while. I wonder what Luke told them. Maybe I’m the only one feeling left behind after all.
“I do wish we could have talked Luke into one last prank,” says WeeDee. “Remember when he had the idea to send Mac that rejection letter from the X-Men? Classic.”
I laugh. “He even drew that official seal and everything. Mac couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed that someone knew his secret dreams or excited that the X-Men were real.” Billy and WeeDee are cackling so hard they’re wheezing. Some more ponytailed moms come in with dogs and strollers. There’s a big All Dogs Must Be on Leashes sign, but their dogs run ahead and around in circles while the moms smile. One of them sees me looking and stops smiling.
“It’s gonna be so weird when he leaves,” Billy says, and looks at me again. “For you most of all, I guess …” He trails off like I’m going to lose it completely without Luke around.
“Since he’s not gone yet, maybe we could get back to what we’re gonna do while he’s here?” I grab the last slice of pizza and push it into my mouth. “And anyway, he’s not that excited about going to school in Maine. Who wants to eat chowder all day? He’s doing it to make Mom happy. Which is why we have big plans for the summer. Last hurrah, blah, blah, blah.”
They share another meaningful look. “We know you have big plans,” says Billy slowly. “But, are you sure about Luke? Maybe his plans are … different.”
“You guys just don’t get it,” I say. “You have sisters.”
“Low blow, Emmett,” mutters WeeDee.
“I’m just saying, we’re a team. Batman and Robin,” I say. “A double dose of dynamic duo.”
“Which one of you is Batman?” asks Billy.
“Double dose duo … isn’t that redundant? Methinks you’re slipping, smart guy,” says WeeDee, and I give him an elbow.
We sit and watch squirrels fight for a while. Taleisha comes into the park with a couple of girls. She waves, and I wave back, a little surprised. If she’s here, where’s Luke?
I turn back to the guys. “So … the next film fest theme?”
“Can’t go wrong with the seventies,” says WeeDee. “Godfather. Jaws. The Exorcist.”
“My uncle Davidson was telling me about some cool seventies movies,” I say. “Car Wash, Shaft, Foxy Brown …”
“I never heard of those,” says WeeDee. “Are you sure they’re from the seventies? Are they foreign?”
“We should make sure we pick stuff that people know. It’ll bring back memories for the old people, and the rest of us can laugh at how freaky old people used to be,” says Billy.
“Still are,” says WeeDee. “My mom is literally taking an eighties-themed retro exercise class as we speak. Oh, I have to put in a good word for eighties movies, though. Leg warmers? Neon? Flashdance? Footloose?”
“Wait—we could do a whole hip-hop thing for the eighties!” I say. “Breakin’, Beat Street, Krush Groove …” Sometimes, when I’m home alone, I watch those movies and try to copy the moves. They were classic! And guys danced hard back in the old days. I was pretty disappointed at my first real school dance last year. I thought it would be kind of like a movie, with everyone making a circle around the best dancer (me), but most of us just glued ourselves to the walls and a few shuffled out from time to time to shuffle next to a bored-looking girl. “The Last Dragon! That combo of hip-hop and martial arts is—”
“Nah, the eighties has to be The Breakfast Club, The Outsiders, Pretty in Pink,” says WeeDee.
“Yeah, the classics!” shouts Billy. “St. Elmo’s Fire, starring the Brat Pack. I saw a documentary about them.”
Pretty sure Uncle Davidson considers The Last Dragon to be a classic but okay. “I didn’t see that,” I say. “Maybe I’ll try to watch. And maybe the eighties hip-hop one could be for the town hall idea.”
“I guess,” says Billy, shrugging. “But I don’t know if people are going to pay money to see that.”
“What’s The Last Dragon?” asks WeeDee, but before I can answer, he goes on. “Did we finish two whole pies already?”
“Yeah, we did,” I say. “And by we, I mean you two.” I lean back when he tries to grab for the little scrap of crust in my hand. “Begone, scavenger! And I gotta go home. Once again, we didn’t get anything done. Do you guys want Luke’s last summer to just go by without … something special?”
They exchange another glance.
“Sorry, Em, we’ll focus next time,” says WeeDee, patting me on the shoulder.
“Yeah, we’re just excited, the whole summer ahead of us, you know,” says Billy. “We’ll have a real meeting next week. And maybe Luke will be able to hang with us.”
“Of course he will,” I say. I don’t add that neither one of them never actually answered my question. Luke would have gotten them to get it together if he were here. Without him, the three of us tend to kind of … wander around like Sims sometimes.
“My stomach hurts,” says WeeDee.
Mine too. But I just keep chewing my crust. If Luke hadn’t ditched us for Taleisha, then where was he? He should have been here. Maybe it’s not just my friends who need a dynamic duo reminder.
Chapter Four
“And that’s creepy Maine fact number one hundred and twenty-three,” I announce, pointing my fork at Luke. “I have sixty-seven more.” And it’s only the second week of summer vacation.
Mom rushes into the kitchen, dumping her purse and backpack on a chair, which is a thing Luke and I would get in trouble for quick fast. “Sorry about the time, guys,” she says. “I know it’s later than I said, b
ut the cafeteria at the hospital was almost empty for once, so I figured I’d do a practice test before I came home. That way I don’t have to force you to be quiet.”
“Sweet! Maybe we can play UNO after we eat,” I say.
She shakes her head. “I have to study, hon.”
“And I gotta pack,” says Luke. “Plus I told Taliesha I’d call her.” He jumps up to get Mom a plate of spaghetti and meatballs.
“It’s not like you’re leaving tomorrow,” I say. “And didn’t you just see Taleisha?” I wait for him to come clean, but he just shakes Parmesan onto Mom’s plate of spaghetti. Hmmm.
She smiles when he puts it in front of her. “There’s salad too,” Luke says.
“This looks delicious!” she says. “How did I get so lucky? A son who’s such an amazing chef!”
“Probably has something to do with your mandatory Saturday morning cooking lessons,” Luke answers. “You told us no son of yours was going to grow up expecting someone else to wait on them hand and foot.”
“And then I asked how that would work exactly, waiting hand and foot,” I add, “You said—”
“Okay, okay,” Mom puts up her hand as Luke chokes back a laugh. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she adds, going into Mom Rules mode. She yawns; she’s been getting up extra early to study for her medical school exams before she goes to work at the hospital. And then she stays up late to study too. She says it’s a piece of cake because she’s a nurse and nurses are like the hospital version of decathletes.
I shovel a big forkful of salad into my mouth. “So … as I was saying to Luke: Pet Sematary. Have we really considered the Pet Sematary angle? One of the creepiest films of all time, set in the dubious state of Maine. Where Rowell Academy is. Where Luke will be, possibly surrounded by undead animals. I’m just saying, is he ready?” I try to give my brother a concerned gaze, but I can feel a piece of lettuce hanging out of my mouth, ruining the effect. “Luke has been punished enough. Do we really want to … compound the injustice? And remember how he felt about that movie? He couldn’t sleep for weeks.” I take a page out of WeeDee’s book and stand, holding my fork high. “Maybe I should put together a zombie-fighting boot camp for him. I’d make a great trainer.”
It Doesn't Take a Genius Page 2
