Gage jogs in place for a minute and regards us. Then he smiles and jogs up his drive, up his steps, and into his house.
I’m not quick enough tearing my eyes away from him, because Max says, “Really? What is that? What’s up with you girls? You can’t have it both ways.”
“What are you talking about?” I frown.
“You. That. Big baseball god. You were practically drooling over him, but if I did that to a hot chick, like, kept staring at her, you’d call me a pig.”
I don’t know what to say, really, because…he’s not wrong?
“And why do you guys always have to go for, like, the most godly-looking dudes? You’re always telling us to, like, check out your insides and not concentrate on your boobs and stuff, but you aren’t any different. I mean, I’m standing right here.” He kicks the tail of his skateboard. “Man, this day sucks hard.”
As he rolls down the sidewalk, he calls back, “And tell your mom she’s wrong. Everybody needs friends. You can’t have a decent life without friends!”
* * *
—
I’m reading The Portrait of a Lady in Hank’s Hoagies, even though I should be reading Beloved for Watson’s class. It’s not that I don’t like Beloved, I do, but it definitely did not feel like hoagie shop reading. I have one eye trained on Joey, who is following Hank around obediently, when Gage texts.
That your boyfriend
Excuse me?
Guy you were talking to earlier. You going out
My fingers hover over my phone, shaking slightly. Why is he asking me this, exactly? I want to type, Are you jealous? But I don’t.
He was there for Joey
Oh
…
I wait. There’s that feeling writers describe in books, when they say characters can feel their heart in their throats. I feel that now: this knot of something, of anticipation. Fear, maybe. Or…pleasure. That he might actually be jealous.
I miss watching you swim
What?
Swim. In the pool. I could see you sometimes,
from my bathroom window. Faces your yard.
It’s too bad it’s too cold now.
…
You were watching me?
Sometimes. Not in a bad way! I have to brush my teeth. The window is right there
…
So, you want to meet up later? I have a thing, we could meet after
A thing?
Party.
Invite me.
But I don’t type that.
Can’t stay out long. Have a workout tomorrow. But maybe we could hang out in the pool house.
…
Your mom has a meeting with the city council. My dad’s on it, that’s how I know. They always go for drinks after at Jasper’s. You don’t have to worry about that.
My fingers are definitely shaking.
Are you there?
Yes
So can I come over?
Scrumptious. That’s what PristTine commented on his pitching camp post way back in the summer. A girl with confidence. A girl who wasn’t afraid. A girl who said, not in so many words, Take me. Pick me.
Okay, I type.
Cool. Around ten. Ok?
Something crashes and I look up. Joey is swearing under his breath, trying to scoop ice off the counter. He spilled a drink container. Hank is standing next to him, apologizing to the customer.
Ok. Gotta go.
I put my phone down. Joey looks over at me, shakes his head, his mouth in a tight line.
* * *
—
Driving home, Joey says, “Well, that wasn’t the worst four hours of my life, but it’s in the top ten.”
“You seemed like you were doing well. Except maybe for when you spilled that drink. And then the ketchup incident.”
“I smell like a giant onion.” His face is sweaty and his shirt is stained with salad and oil.
I sniff the air. “You kind of do.”
When we come in the door, my mother is waiting for us. She frowns. “Are you getting sick, Joe? You look flushed.”
She presses the back of her hand to his forehead, but he pushes it away. “It’s the sheen of labor, Mom. You should be proud.”
My mom bristles. “A little hard work goes a long way, Joe. I just want to help you.”
I tense up, waiting for a fight.
But instead, Joey’s shoulders sag, and he just says, “I know, Mom. I know.”
He heads up the stairs and Mom turns to me, taking a deep breath.
“I mean, you can see that, can’t you? I’m doing everything I can to keep him on track.” Her voice wavers a little.
“It’s just…” I look at the floor, at her feet, anywhere but her face, because I don’t want to say anything that will make her mad. That’s like my whole life, trying not to upset my own mother.
“It’s just…a lot,” I finally say. “He’ll get used to it.”
She nods. “Well, I’m going out for a bit for drinks with Tom Rigby and some council members. I won’t be back until late. These people like to knock it back and I have to play along.”
“Oh.” I act surprised, like I didn’t just learn this from Gage. “Council on a Saturday night? What for?”
She drops her phone into her purse. “It’s not a formal meeting. They’re feeling me out. Some developers want to buy the Mill. It’s falling apart and the council wants me to sell it or raze it and sell the land.”
“That’s…big.”
Gage is coming over Gage is coming over Gage is coming over
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
“What…time will you be back?” I say, trying to keep my voice casual.
“Late. Those people can really drink. I’ll be buying, of course.” She kind of laughs. “Dinner’s warming on the stove, so don’t forget about it.”
“Okay, sure. Fine.”
“Are you okay? You seem a little…jumpy?”
“Yes,” I say. “Absolutely. Tip-top.”
“All right, then. I’m off.”
It isn’t until she’s out the door that I realize Joey will be here, and what will I do about Joey?
* * *
—
I’m putting soup into bowls in the kitchen, Fuzzy darting in and out of my legs, when Joey comes in. His hair is wet and he’s dressed in a T-shirt and sweats. He slides onto a stool at the island. I push a bowl of soup at him. He grimaces.
“Not hungry. I had to look at food all day.”
“It didn’t seem so bad,” I say.
“Hank is a dick and it was pretty obvious he doesn’t really want me there—he wants to get in good with Mom for some reason, but I guess it could have been worse. At least I got to talk to some people there. It was nice to just talk to people, since I can’t really talk to anyone at school except Amber.”
I think about Max earlier in the day, shouting that everyone needs friends.
I stir the soup in my bowl. “I forgot to tell you Max deVos came by earlier. Mom scared him off.”
Joey puts his head in his hands. “Poor Max. He’s harmless.”
“Yeah.” I sneak a look at the clock on the kitchen wall. It’s seven o’clock. Three more hours.
Joey’s wiping his eyes.
“Joey, what’s wrong?” I put my soup spoon down.
“Nothing. It’s just…Max, I guess. I mean, I don’t really have any friends now, you know?” He rubs his face. “Whatever. I’m gonna go to bed early, but you want to watch a movie or something first?”