Bright Lights, Dark Nights (24 page)

“Dude, come on,” I said. Stray shrapnel was flying everywhere and I got hit. “We're still friends, all right? I'm not looking for a fight here.”

“So you date my sister behind my back, but you're not looking for a fight, is that right?” Jason asked. “You don't get to pick and choose your fights, buddy. Not always. Besides, you're never looking for a fight—that's why you aren't a real man.”

Naomi might have been used to this, but I wasn't. If he was like this with everyone, he should really get his ass kicked.

“What's a real man, then?” Naomi asked. “What does a real man do? Get a new girlfriend every week?” And to Jessica, “No offense.”

Jessica smiled weakly and looked down. Probably not the date with Jason she'd been expecting. If anyone was an innocent bystander in all this, it was she.

“Walter's way more of a man than you'll
ever
be,” Naomi said. “I didn't even want to do this! Walter's the one who wanted to salvage your friendship. He's the stand-up guy here. I just thought it would get you off our case if you saw how not-an-issue our relationship is.”

“You guys care to take it down a notch? Put the weapons away,” Jason said with a casual smile. He could change moods and tones and facial expressions to fit whatever he was trying to get at the moment. Now it was a smugness, that we were getting too worked up as if he'd been calm all along. “All I'm saying is this gets the thumbs-down from me,” Jason said. “I'm entitled to my opinion.”

“Well, tough titties to your opinion, Jason, because
this
is happening,” Naomi said, pushing her body into mine and cupping my face with her right hand. “Mom okayed it.”

“I don't care what Mom says,” Jason grumbled, and ate his pizza while his undeterred date put her hand on his shoulder. He always got his way. With his parents, with his dates, and he thought he'd get his way with me and Naomi, too.

“How about a movie?” I asked. “Something where we don't have to talk.”

*   *   *

We lost Jason and his date after the pizza, and that was for the best. Tension was released as soon as we got out of there, and by the time we got to the theater down the street, we were both in a decent mood again. Jason might be toxic for a while, but I had faith it would pass. We were friends. That had to mean something to him somewhere.

We got our tickets for the new Thor movie and stood in line for popcorn. “I could just kill him,” Naomi said, gritting her teeth. “Honest, I could. Is that bad? Is it wrong if I kill him?”

“I don't think so,” I said. “I don't see why that would be an issue. He's your brother—it's almost expected.”

“Right? If someone's going to kill him, it may as well be me,” Naomi said. Hopefully no one in line with us was paying too much attention. “I'm just kidding,” she said. “I'm not serious. I wouldn't do that, but I want to, strongly.”

We were up next in line. “Popcorn?” I asked. “Do you want to get one and share?” Naomi nodded.

I looked around to see if anyone I knew was in the theater with us. I was actually there with a pretty girl and not my parents or sister for once, which felt pretty good. Naomi was looking around also, but she had other things on her mind.

“It's hard not to look at all these people and think of what they say on Facebook pages or on websites,” Naomi said. “Do you think that or is it just me? Nobody ever says I deserve to be pulled over. Nobody tells me I look like a criminal. But they must be thinking it, because
someone
posts all that stuff.”

“Everyone has something to say online. It's the Internet,” I said. The theater was full, and everyone was lost in their own groups. “There's no consequence, so they say whatever stupid thing enters their heads. The rest of the time they're all too busy with their own lives to pay attention to anyone else.”

“Well, stop right there. Racism exists,” Naomi said. “It's not like it only happens when people are online and bored and anonymous. But you picture it in, like, really rural areas, and backwater places. Not … here. Why would you even live in the city if you thought like that? Those comments are on local news sites. They're about our neighborhoods.”

“I didn't mean it like that. Really,” I said. “I just meant I wouldn't take it personally. People are big shots online. Everyone wants to be the funniest, or the most controversial. Because nobody cares what you say online. You can get away with anything. So they just say whatever.”

“So you don't think anyone's looking at us?” Naomi pushed. “They're all too wrapped up in their own lives?”

“No one's looking at us,” I said. “If it's not their lives they're wrapped up in, it's their cell phones. Taking selfies. The lights will go off soon anyway. Everyone will forget everything as soon as the movie starts.”

“So no one is paying attention and they'll forget us anyway?” Naomi asked, and pulled me in for a long, slow, very public kiss. She grabbed some popcorn out of my bucket and flashed a mischievous grin before popping one into her mouth.

“Wild child,” I said, impressed.

*   *   *

Dad was on his laptop when I got home. He was always on there now. He had the large coffee mug out, a bag from the bakery down the street. His brow was furrowed. He didn't even seem to notice me come in. He was muttering to himself.

“Stop it, already,” he said. “Leave it alone, just leave it alone.”

“Hey,” I said, walking over to the table, peeking at the laptop screen. “What's going on?”

“I was a hero just weeks ago,” Dad said. “Everyone was celebrating the good deeds of James Wilcox.”

“And now?” I asked. “What's going on?”

“The gorilla thing,” Dad said. He pushed his laptop away. “Nobody cares about the gun stuff, the threat. It's the gorilla. Everyone's flipping out over some gorilla comment I made a year ago and nobody cared about then. It isn't even racial, you know? How is that a black thing? If a guy looks like a gorilla, I'm gonna call him a gorilla. I don't care what color he is.”

I could see a comment thread on his screen that must have twenty back-and-forth replies on it. “Is that you?” I asked.

“This guy FThePolice95 won't drop it. He just keeps arguing. Every time I reply, there he is ten seconds later,” Dad said. He was rubbing his temples, he could have been sitting there all day. “He's the goddamn King Arthur of the Internet. I'll write him all night if I have to. I'm keeping my name clean.”

“Ninety-five is probably his birth year. It's some kid in his early twenties,” I said. “Look at all those other responses. You've gotta get off of there.”

“I'll get to them,” Dad said. “I don't have a job to go to. I've got the time. I'm not letting Sharp win this one, Walter. You want to make yourself useful, there's a pot of coffee in the kitchen. Fill this up for me.”

Dad pushed the mug over and pulled his laptop back in front of him. Barry already won. You can't beat FThePolice95. You can't beat them all.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

The Monday morning sky was a pale light blue with pink highlights. I stepped off the bus, which was mostly full of freshmen and sophomores this year, my head still trying to make sense of how that date had gone so wrong, so fast. As far as I knew, Jason and Naomi were laughing about it over green tea later that night. That was the way their family functioned. My goal for the day was to find Jason and see if we were cool, but somehow Lester found me first again. He was getting out of his dull-red nineties Mazda as I passed him, and he walked with me to the building.

“Wally Wilcox!” he said. “Do you want a ride to school, man? The bus is not cool. I've got a fresh new window and everything.”

“Thanks, I'm good,” I said. “It's just a few more months.”

“Yeah, but you're dating now. You're going to parties, making friends,” Lester said. “You don't want to be on that thing. Hey, we need to catch up. Your dad, man, what do you think? Officer Wilcox. I can't even believe the stuff I'm reading.”

“That's about what I think,” I said. “I don't believe it.”

Lester got the door and kept walking with me inside as I headed to my locker.

“Well, I'm biased,” Lester said. It was football season and he had his varsity jacket on. “It's kinda hard for me to side with the police on any issue. Did you know they can arrest you for just standing somewhere?”

“Like, loitering?” I asked.

“Yeah,
loitering
,” Lester said. “You know Calvin? He's cool, and personally, I don't think he'd lie. But that's just me. Like I said, I'm biased.”

“There's more to it, though,” I said. But really I knew as much as anyone about what had happened. “Nothing I want to get into. I don't really want to talk about it, anyway. I want to keep as separate from all that as I can.”

The school was filling up, as we had about ten minutes until first period. Lester kept walking with me, saying hi to people in the halls until we got to my locker.

“Hey, so Jason,” Lester said to me, a little more quiet than his normal talking voice. I opened my locker, and he stood on the other side of the door. “I'm not supposed to say anything, but he's a little salty.”

“Salty?” I asked. I'd say he was worse than salty, last I saw him.

“Yeah, angry,” Lester said. “Did you really not tell him about the Naomi thing? That's bro code one-oh-one. If it were me, I wouldn't start a relationship dissing a girl's family, but that's just some free advice. That's a bad foundation, bad mojo, right?”

“I wasn't staking her out, going in for a move or something,” I said, getting salty myself. I couldn't find my algebra book. My locker wasn't big enough to lose things in. “It just happened. When there was something to tell, we told.”

“Hey, you like the CD I burned?” Lester asked, dropping the subject and ignoring my tone.