Bright Lights, Dark Nights (35 page)

The Lester confrontation had to happen. If I was going to apologize to Naomi, if I was going to fix things, I needed to show that I wasn't going to make the same mistakes. I didn't want to hide from my problem. And where things stood with Lester, it was a problem. I had to show I could fight, or at least stand up for myself. Or at least work through an issue. At worst, get my ass kicked again.

“Is this really stupid?” I asked. “Is this a kamikaze mission or something?”

“It's absolutely stupid,” Nate said. “That's how I know it needs to be done. Congratulations, Walter, on your entry into adulthood.”

Somehow this was comforting.

“He was out of school yesterday,” Nate said. “Someone said he's suspended through the end of the week. Maybe he was ratted out for the fight.”

“Ratted out?” I asked. “Honestly, he barely hit me, and I was the one who started it.”

“Walter Wilcox, you
are
a beast!” Nate said. “Remind me to stay on your good side.”

“What about Beardsley?” I asked. “Or Frankie? Are they in school still?” Nate nodded. Lester probably took the fall for the whole thing to protect them.

When we got to the rows of similar-looking buildings, I hoped I caught the right one Lester pointed to when we got off the bus all those weeks ago.

We walked up the front steps and rang the doorbell. There were a few seconds before we got a response, from a very irritated lady. Her face was mostly obscured by door as the chain only let it open a fraction. “Who are you?” the lady I assumed was Lester's mom answered.

Nate spoke. “Hi, is this Lester's house? We're classmates of his.”

“It's my house. But Lester lives here.” The door slammed closed and then opened fully. Lester's mom was short and frail-looking, the opposite of Lester's hulking frame. I wondered what his dad must look like.

“Are you the kid?” his mom asked, looking at Nate and then at me. “Oh, look at you, of course you are, come in. You want to see Lester?”

She called out for Lester and shut off the TV. The house smelled like dust, or wood or something. The floors were hardwood. There was an olive-green couch that really drew all the attention of the room, with a bright orange-and-yellow knitted blanket on it. There was a bicycle inside the house near the door. Nate and I stood there awkwardly, Nate still holding his ball. Lester bounced up some stairs to the living room area, saw me, and ducked his eyes away.

“Oof,” he said. “Hey, Walter, come on downstairs. We're hanging out.”

Downstairs was a mostly empty basement-man-cave kind of deal. I was surprised to see Jason over playing a football game on the Xbox. He looked up at us. I guess no one was in school today. “Oh, damn,” he said, seeing my face. “Hey, Walter.”

“You want some pizza?” Lester asked, and grabbed a slice himself. I shook my head, and he got a closer look at the bruising. “That's messed up. You get that looked at?”

I nodded. “Did I do anything?” I said, looking at his face. I knew I hit him at least once. He had a tiny bruise on his cheek. “Is that it?”

“Yeah, it's a little shiner,” he said, and smiled. “Hey, it's more than anyone else ever got on me. Nothing to sneeze at.”

We laughed at that, if it was something to laugh at. It seemed funny at the time. Nate grabbed the other controller and sat with Jason on the couch, I grabbed a chair off to the side of the room.

“I crossed a lot of lines, like, personal lines I don't like to cross,” I said to Lester, who was still standing near the pizza box, which was on a table with a computer setup. “I don't even know what I'm doing here, but I felt like I should say something. I dunno.” I really could have used some more time to rehearse this. “I threw the first punch. I had my guard up around you. I had some preconceived notions. I mean…” This was difficult. “Whatever happened, I had a role in it. So. Sorry.”

“I said some dumb stuff, too,” Lester said. “That's how fights happen, usually.”

“Yeah, but,” I said.

“Yeah,” Lester agreed.

“It's not a bad suspension situation anyway,” I said, looking around. “Games, pizza. Are you stuck in the house?”

“No, I do what I want. She doesn't care,” Lester said, rolling his eyes up, referring to his mom. “It's not the first time, probably not the last.”

“Damn, who taught you to play?” Jason said to Nate, who was apparently upping Lester's team's score in the game.

“All I need is a controller,” Nate said.

“Even up the score,” Lester said with a smile, closing the pizza box and throwing away a napkin. “Someone's gotta humble Jason. The kid beats me every time.”

Lester stood by me, then squatted down a bit. He looked at Jason, playing the game, then at me.

“Do me a favor,” Lester said in a hushed tone. “Forget that other stuff I said out there. I feel like crap over it. It makes my stomach hurt. We don't need to repeat it here, but I didn't mean it, all right? You know what I'm talking about. Really, any of it.”

I nodded again. It wouldn't be easy to forget anything he'd said, particularly about Naomi, whom I assumed he was talking about. But if we wanted to move past this, we both had to forgive. He wasn't going to be the only other guy to have a crush on her. That was something I'd have to learn to deal with.

“Walter, you got a minute?” Jason asked me with his eyes still on the game. “Can we step outside?”

Lester took over Jason's controller. “You lift?” was all I heard Nate say before I went upstairs and outside with Jason. We didn't stray too far from Lester's house, walking slowly to the trees lining the road. A large sheet of old cardboard leaned against the building, and I guessed Dad hadn't done anything about Lester's problem with the homeless man.

“How's the face feel?” Jason asked. I pulled my coat back on. Jason was wearing just a long-sleeve shirt. “No offense, man, but it's ugly as sin.”

“Honestly?” I asked. “It feels how it looks. You skipping or did you get suspended, too?”

“Skipping,” Jason said. Shrugged his shoulders. “Probably get in trouble. Oh well.”

We watched as a cop car passed. Had a split-second thought that it was my dad before remembering he was in the hospital still. “Something you wanted to talk about?” I asked.

“Yeah, I'm kinda pissed off a little,” Jason said, something that could wrap up the past month or two of my Jason interactions. “It's cool that you came over here to talk to Lester after everything, but why couldn't you talk to me like that?” Jason leaped up and grabbed a tree branch. His feet scurried along the trunk, and he hoisted himself up into the tree. “Like, no offense, but anytime anyone tries to talk real, you slip into some clever retort or you ignore it altogether. It's no way to live, Kemosabe.”

“I'm changing,” I said. I leaned against the tree.

“Get up here,” Jason said from the tree branch. He threw an acorn at me.

“I don't know how,” I said, looking up. I jumped, but it was too high. I tried kicking off the tree for a boost. It took a few tries, but once I reached the branch, I was able to climb the tree. The weight of both of us dragged the branch down pretty low.

“All right, well, if you'd do it different now, do it different,” Jason said. “Talk to me.”

“I like your sister,” I said. “I like Naomi, a lot.”

“Too bad. Stay away from her or I'll beat your ass,” Jason said. “I'll throw you right off this tree.” We laughed at that. I could jump off the branch and he'd probably get hurt more. “She likes you, too,” Jason said. “Talk to her. She's a mess right now.”

“She is?” I asked. I'd thought about Naomi, but I hadn't pictured her a mess. Last I saw her, she'd been pissed off and rightfully so, and that was the image I'd been carrying with me.

“I want her to be happy,” Jason said. “She won't talk to me, won't say my name. She won't even look at me. That's my sister, my blood. She's a pain in the ass, and she really did poop her pants in the fifth grade—not sure how you're okay with that—but she's still my sis and I don't want her mad at me anymore.”

“So you want us back together?” I asked.

“Forget about me,” Jason said. “Just call her, dude.”

*   *   *

Nate and I left Lester's with our lives intact, but now it was time to find Naomi. I felt aware of time suddenly, like with every passing second she might be forgetting me a little more. Naomi felt immediate and urgent, and my heart started racing. The school was a few blocks west, and Nate and I walked fast, the adrenaline kicking in. It was twelve fifty when we got inside and plotted what was next in the main hall. Nate dribbled his ball once, and it might have echoed through the entire school.

“All right, so Naomi should be in biology right now,” I said. “I'm going to wait outside that room, maybe down the hall a bit. Then, when she gets out, she'll see me. Maybe I can get her to cut class or something so we have more than two minutes to talk. That's the plan.”

A classroom door opened, and Mrs. Medley stood in front of us. I turned my head away and looked at a poster on the wall. “Nate?” she asked. “Are you going to join class or stand in the hall all day?”

“Oh, was that today?” Nate asked.

“It's every day,” Mrs. Medley responded.

Nate handed me his basketball. “I gotta go,” Nate said. “Good luck and Godspeed.”

With that, I was on my own. I went ahead with my plan to wait for Naomi. Just outside of sight from the door. Ten minutes went fast when you were crossing the city with your friend and a basketball, but it could be painfully slow when you were standing still in the quiet, completely alone, waiting to find out if your girlfriend was going to run into you arms or deck you. Especially when you knew you deserved the latter. Finally, the bell rang. And a possibly more excruciating thirty seconds passed before Naomi came out of the room.