without her all these years, what did he need her for now? At the same time, he was curious. He wanted to hear it from her own mouth: To have her explain to him why .
Only it might be a case of being careful what you ask for. He’d read in one of those how-to-fix-what’s-wrong-withyour-life-in-thirty-days-or-less books that the only way to deal with a situation like this was to meet it head on, to dig deep where it hurt the most. What if he dug all the way down and never got to the bottom? All he’d end up with was a giant hole.
And now here was Rud, the coolest guy he knew, grinning at Jeremy like he was a fly whose wings he’d plucked. “Me and Chuckie here,” Rud jerked a thumb toward his sidekick, Chuckie Dimmock, a large, pimple-faced boy who never made a move without Rud’s approval, “are heading over to Mike’s to watch the drag races. Wanna come along?”
“Nah. I got stuff to do,” Jeremy said. Any other time he would have leapt at the offer, but not now.
A slow, knowing smile spread across Rud’s face. “Oh, I get it. You waiting on some chick.”
Jeremy must have looked startled, for Rud let out a hoot, slapping him on the back. Kurt Rudnicki might be the whitest white boy who ever spoke ghetto-speak, with his pale skin and white-blond hair, gelled into spikes that glistened in the late afternoon sun, but he wasn’t dumb. He just didn’t have all the details straight. “Yeah, that’s it,” Jeremy said, in a lighthearted tone, hoping to deflect Rud’s interest by making a joke of it. “She should be here any minute.”
“Anyone we know?” Rud asked.
“Nah. She’s no one,” Jeremy muttered, wishing desperately that they would just leave .
“You doing her?” Chuckie leered at him.
“No!” Heat flared in Jeremy’s cheeks.
“Yo, we got to educate this boy.” Rud slung his arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, leaning in close, his brown eyes
dark holes drilled into the pale, sharp ridges of his face. “Now the thing to do is keep her guessing. Have her think you are doing her a favor. You listen to your Uncle Rud now, you hear. He knows what he’s talking about. It’s all about power, my man, and if you ain’t got the power, you ain’t got shit.”
Jeremy’s cheeks burned. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to remember that.” He injected as much sarcasm into his voice as he could without pissing Rud off.
Rud and Chuckie hung around a bit longer, jiving with him, while Jeremy sneaked surreptitious glances at his watch every now and then, growing increasingly desperate. When they finally took off, the relief he felt momentarily took his mind off the business ahead. It wasn’t until he was alone again that the anxiety crept in once more.
The only other signs of life on campus were a group of kids in costume chatting animatedly outside the auditorium, where they were rehearsing for a play, and the varsity team on the football field below doing relays. Jeremy, who just minutes before had wanted only to be alone, felt a sudden sense of isolation that deepened with each shrill blast of Coach Sullivan’s whistle and chorus of laughter from the drama club. He wasn’t on a team and he didn’t belong to any clubs. Socially, he wasn’t even in the same universe as his cousin Ryan. Ryan charged the ions in the air just walking down the halls, while Jeremy moved about invisible as a mote of dust, torn between praying he wouldn’t be noticed and feeling vaguely let down that he’d succeeded so spectacularly on that score.
Now all that was changing. Over the past few days, people had begun to eye him in a new and unwelcome way. Just this afternoon he’d walked into a classroom only to
have the conversation abruptly cease. Even his teachers seemed to regard him differently, as if he were a rare specimen that required special handling. And that wasn’t all. Everyone knew that Mr. White more or less ran the town. It wasn’t just that he was mayor; he had the power that came with money,
Only it might be a case of being careful what you ask for. He’d read in one of those how-to-fix-what’s-wrong-withyour-life-in-thirty-days-or-less books that the only way to deal with a situation like this was to meet it head on, to dig deep where it hurt the most. What if he dug all the way down and never got to the bottom? All he’d end up with was a giant hole.
And now here was Rud, the coolest guy he knew, grinning at Jeremy like he was a fly whose wings he’d plucked. “Me and Chuckie here,” Rud jerked a thumb toward his sidekick, Chuckie Dimmock, a large, pimple-faced boy who never made a move without Rud’s approval, “are heading over to Mike’s to watch the drag races. Wanna come along?”
“Nah. I got stuff to do,” Jeremy said. Any other time he would have leapt at the offer, but not now.
A slow, knowing smile spread across Rud’s face. “Oh, I get it. You waiting on some chick.”
Jeremy must have looked startled, for Rud let out a hoot, slapping him on the back. Kurt Rudnicki might be the whitest white boy who ever spoke ghetto-speak, with his pale skin and white-blond hair, gelled into spikes that glistened in the late afternoon sun, but he wasn’t dumb. He just didn’t have all the details straight. “Yeah, that’s it,” Jeremy said, in a lighthearted tone, hoping to deflect Rud’s interest by making a joke of it. “She should be here any minute.”
“Anyone we know?” Rud asked.
“Nah. She’s no one,” Jeremy muttered, wishing desperately that they would just leave .
“You doing her?” Chuckie leered at him.
“No!” Heat flared in Jeremy’s cheeks.
“Yo, we got to educate this boy.” Rud slung his arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, leaning in close, his brown eyes
dark holes drilled into the pale, sharp ridges of his face. “Now the thing to do is keep her guessing. Have her think you are doing her a favor. You listen to your Uncle Rud now, you hear. He knows what he’s talking about. It’s all about power, my man, and if you ain’t got the power, you ain’t got shit.”
Jeremy’s cheeks burned. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to remember that.” He injected as much sarcasm into his voice as he could without pissing Rud off.
Rud and Chuckie hung around a bit longer, jiving with him, while Jeremy sneaked surreptitious glances at his watch every now and then, growing increasingly desperate. When they finally took off, the relief he felt momentarily took his mind off the business ahead. It wasn’t until he was alone again that the anxiety crept in once more.
The only other signs of life on campus were a group of kids in costume chatting animatedly outside the auditorium, where they were rehearsing for a play, and the varsity team on the football field below doing relays. Jeremy, who just minutes before had wanted only to be alone, felt a sudden sense of isolation that deepened with each shrill blast of Coach Sullivan’s whistle and chorus of laughter from the drama club. He wasn’t on a team and he didn’t belong to any clubs. Socially, he wasn’t even in the same universe as his cousin Ryan. Ryan charged the ions in the air just walking down the halls, while Jeremy moved about invisible as a mote of dust, torn between praying he wouldn’t be noticed and feeling vaguely let down that he’d succeeded so spectacularly on that score.
Now all that was changing. Over the past few days, people had begun to eye him in a new and unwelcome way. Just this afternoon he’d walked into a classroom only to
have the conversation abruptly cease. Even his teachers seemed to regard him differently, as if he were a rare specimen that required special handling. And that wasn’t all. Everyone knew that Mr. White more or less ran the town. It wasn’t just that he was mayor; he had the power that came with money,
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