bell rang, and he’d run if he had to. He’d force Cody to ride home with him. Cody wanted to shut him out, to pretend they’d never sat across from each other at McDonald’s, dipping fries into their chocolate shakes. He wanted to pretend like they hadn’t talked about their moms and what it felt like to have only one parent around. It felt like Cody’d locked himself away in some secret room, but Nate intended to beat down the door. He’d tear the walls down with his own hands if that’s what he had to do.
That’s what he told himself, at any rate. But when the last bell rang, Jennifer was flirting with him, and Brian was talking about the bonfire they were having on Friday after school, and Michelle was talking about the new Dead Milkmen album and how Nate just had to hear it.
And, in the end, he didn’t even notice when Cody ducked out the door.
Cody had known from the beginning that he’d lose Nate once school started, but knowing didn’t make it any easier.
It wasn’t as if Nate ignored him completely. It was true he made no effort to talk to Cody in social studies, but on the rare occasions when they passed each other in the hall, Nate still said hi, or at least raised his hand in greeting. But Cody felt the hostility of the Grove residents in Nate’s company. He heard their snickers as they passed. Once, he heard Brian say, “Why do you still talk to that loser?” And so Cody changed his habits. He learned when and where he was most likely to see Nate, and he altered his course through the school in order to avoid him.
Even he couldn’t have said whether completely avoiding Nate made things better or worse.
To his surprise, Logan turned out to be his savior.
Logan’s little sister, Shelley, was a sophomore, and she was Orange Grove all the way. Logan, though, was the exception to every rule, partly because he was so big nobody dared mess with him, partly because he was the quarterback and the star of the football team. He had plenty of family in Wyoming, but his parents had moved to Warren three years earlier to open a steakhouse. Having come from California garnered him a certain amount of credibility, and a fair share of leeway. He was the only kid in school who could pick and choose who to hang out with from day to day. Logan spent a lot of his time at the bowling alley, but he was in the advanced classes in English, math, and science, and he played football. He smoked, which should have made him in ineligible for football, but it wasn’t like the coach was going to bench his best player. He was in 4-H, but drove a shiny black Camaro. Those things alone made him hard to pin down, but he refused to conform to clique standards when it came to clothing, too. Most days, he wore 501s and a denim jacket, which would have pegged him a burnout, but he wore them with pastel polo shirts, tailored sweaters, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat.
Nobody else in the school could have made that work, but he did.
Logan had always been friendly toward Cody. Not like they ever hung out or exchanged phone numbers, but Logan had never avoided him like the others, and he’d certainly never called him names.
Not to his face, at any rate.
Still, Cody was surprised on Friday when Logan not only sat next to him in social studies, but leaned across the aisle to talk to him.
“Hey, man. I’ve been trying to pin you down in the smoking section all week, but you’re never there when I am.”
Logan had been looking for him? “I only go out at lunch.” He’d been trying to cut down on how much he smoked, mostly because he was a buck twenty away from being flat broke.
“Listen. You know the Tomahawk Saloon?”
Sure, he knew it. Not that he’d ever eaten there. The Tomahawk was what passed for fine dining in Warren. “Yeah. Your family owns it, right?”
“My dad owns it. My Uncle Frank manages it. Anyway, I’ve been washing dishes there part-time since last spring.”
The room was getting loud as more
That’s what he told himself, at any rate. But when the last bell rang, Jennifer was flirting with him, and Brian was talking about the bonfire they were having on Friday after school, and Michelle was talking about the new Dead Milkmen album and how Nate just had to hear it.
And, in the end, he didn’t even notice when Cody ducked out the door.
Cody had known from the beginning that he’d lose Nate once school started, but knowing didn’t make it any easier.
It wasn’t as if Nate ignored him completely. It was true he made no effort to talk to Cody in social studies, but on the rare occasions when they passed each other in the hall, Nate still said hi, or at least raised his hand in greeting. But Cody felt the hostility of the Grove residents in Nate’s company. He heard their snickers as they passed. Once, he heard Brian say, “Why do you still talk to that loser?” And so Cody changed his habits. He learned when and where he was most likely to see Nate, and he altered his course through the school in order to avoid him.
Even he couldn’t have said whether completely avoiding Nate made things better or worse.
To his surprise, Logan turned out to be his savior.
Logan’s little sister, Shelley, was a sophomore, and she was Orange Grove all the way. Logan, though, was the exception to every rule, partly because he was so big nobody dared mess with him, partly because he was the quarterback and the star of the football team. He had plenty of family in Wyoming, but his parents had moved to Warren three years earlier to open a steakhouse. Having come from California garnered him a certain amount of credibility, and a fair share of leeway. He was the only kid in school who could pick and choose who to hang out with from day to day. Logan spent a lot of his time at the bowling alley, but he was in the advanced classes in English, math, and science, and he played football. He smoked, which should have made him in ineligible for football, but it wasn’t like the coach was going to bench his best player. He was in 4-H, but drove a shiny black Camaro. Those things alone made him hard to pin down, but he refused to conform to clique standards when it came to clothing, too. Most days, he wore 501s and a denim jacket, which would have pegged him a burnout, but he wore them with pastel polo shirts, tailored sweaters, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat.
Nobody else in the school could have made that work, but he did.
Logan had always been friendly toward Cody. Not like they ever hung out or exchanged phone numbers, but Logan had never avoided him like the others, and he’d certainly never called him names.
Not to his face, at any rate.
Still, Cody was surprised on Friday when Logan not only sat next to him in social studies, but leaned across the aisle to talk to him.
“Hey, man. I’ve been trying to pin you down in the smoking section all week, but you’re never there when I am.”
Logan had been looking for him? “I only go out at lunch.” He’d been trying to cut down on how much he smoked, mostly because he was a buck twenty away from being flat broke.
“Listen. You know the Tomahawk Saloon?”
Sure, he knew it. Not that he’d ever eaten there. The Tomahawk was what passed for fine dining in Warren. “Yeah. Your family owns it, right?”
“My dad owns it. My Uncle Frank manages it. Anyway, I’ve been washing dishes there part-time since last spring.”
The room was getting loud as more
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