Read Online One Man Guy by Michael Barakiva - Free Book Online Page A

of gratitude wash over him, for everyone from his father, who packed today’s lunch, to the Armenian who first invented string cheese.
    “Anyway, dude, I just wanted to thank you for doing me that solid.”
    “That what?”
    “You know, a solid. It means…” Ethan searched for the definition. “Basically, it means you did me a favor, and I wanted to give you props for that. Like if I said, ‘I wanna give my boy Alek a shout-out for doing me a solid in Mr. W’s Alge class.’ It means ‘thank you.’ Capisce ?”
    “Cap what?”
    “ Capisce. It’s how mobsters say ‘understand?’” Ethan looked at Alek with surprise. “Don’t you watch TV?”
    “My parents only let me watch half an hour a day.”
    “What!”
    “Yeah. They think television is rotting the minds of the people in this country.”
    “So what do you do?”
    “Well, I used to play tennis. And I go to the movies.”
    “Your parents don’t think that movies are rotting the minds of the people in this country?”
    “They probably do, but at least this way they get me out of the house.”
    Ethan laughed. Alek couldn’t believe how quickly Ethan morphed from being an unapproachable D.O. to someone he could talk to.
    “Anyway, dude, thanks. If I don’t pass Alge they’ll make me repeat, and that wouldn’t fly well with Father, ya hear?”
    “I hear,” Alek responded, playing along.
    “And thanks for the cheese, Polly-O.”
    “It’s not Polly-O. My parents would never buy Polly-O.”
    “No, fool. That’s gonna be my name for you from now on. ’Cause like string cheese, you’re wound up tight.”
    Alek’s heart sank at the description.
    “But you also got flecks that give you flavor.” Ethan winked.
    And his heart soared again.
    “Peace out, Polly-O.”
    Ethan made his way back to his cafeteria table. Alek could see the elastic band of Ethan’s underwear peeking out of his shorts, almost as if the purple 2(X)IST label were winking at Alek and anyone else bold enough to witness it. Looking down at his own boring denim shorts, Alek could never imagine wearing pants that low, especially since Principal Saunder’s dress code prohibited them. During the school year, it might even earn Ethan a suspension, but in the summer, everything was looser.
    *   *   *
    Walking to school five days later, Alek braced himself as he passed Becky’s street. It’s not like he thought she was going to be waiting for him or anything, but seeing Orchard Street reminded him of how he and Becky still hadn’t talked, and he knew that the more time that passed, the harder it would be. He supposed he could’ve reached out to her, but since she’d been the one who kicked him out of her house, he thought it wouldn’t kill her to make the first move.
    Alek reached the train station and decided to risk being a few minutes late to English so he could witness the 8:17 on its way up to the city. He ran up the stairs to the platform.
    “Check it, Polly-O!” he heard a familiar voice call out from the other side.
    Ethan! Looking across, he saw him hanging off the railing on the opposite side of the station, his book bag casually slung over his shoulders.
    “Hey, Ethan!” Alek called back. Seeing him made Alek smile.
    Ethan looked around conspiratorially, and then beckoned to Alek to come to him. Alek ran up the overpass and found Ethan examining a New York City subway map.
    “Have fun in Alge today. And don’t mention the running-into-me thing, okay?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Figure it out, Polly-O. I’m at a train station. When school starts in fifteen minutes, you’re going to be sitting in some lame-ass classroom, and I’ll be on my way to the Big Apple.”
    “You’re cutting?” Alek asked incredulously.
    “Hell yeah.”
    “So why are you going into the city?” Alek said, trying to sound nonchalant. He might not be able to go there on his own, but he knew it would be way uncool to refer to it as “New York City.” Everyone just