The Guardian (17 page)

“Hey, Lexi.” Derry smiles from ear to ear, clearly pleased with himself. “Happy to see me?”

In truth I am. Relief floods my chest as I choke down a lump the size of a walnut. Our surroundings fade into the background as I spring from my seat and throw myself at him. I wrap my arms around Derry’s scrawny chest in a bear hug. “I’ve been so worried! What happened to you?”

He pulls back regarding me in his simple, tranquil way. “You did, Lexi. I missed you.”

He’s grinning at me like he’s just pulled off the best surprise in human history. His eyes twinkle with sly satisfaction. As I stare into them, deepest slate with starbursts of amber and walnut colored flecks, joy overwhelms me. My eyes begin to sting with unshed tears and I’m pretty sure my mouth is hanging open, but I can’t seem to make it close.

“Are you surprised, Lexi?”

Still choking down my reaction, I nod vigorously.

How? Why?

“Mr. Derrick Williams, I presume? Why don’t you take a seat up front, please?” Mrs. Davis intervenes before I can verbalize any of the dozen or so questions swirling in my addled brain. Reluctantly, Derry shuffles forward. As he slides into his seat, he casts a mournful look over his shoulder. I understand because I also feel upset our reunion has been interrupted. Thankfully, lunch is next, because I can’t think of anything but Derry. I spend the rest of Government basking in his shimmering saffron halo and remembering why he’s my best friend in the world.

When Derry and I met at the age of twelve, he was a clueless, gangly boy who was more interested in sci-fi and comic books than his immediate surroundings. His shaggy hair looked as though he’d cut it himself and his clothes never matched. He also possessed the purest heart I had ever known—good through and through. He was always insisting we play Star Wars, making me be Princess Leia, so he could be Luke Skywalker and rescue me from evil. I thought it was sweet because, out of the two of us, if anyone needed rescuing it was him.

We managed to stay together for two and a half years at The Children’s Center, more than I’d stayed anywhere else. I couldn’t abandon him. And then I’d no choice but to go and I couldn’t take him with me. That killed me—leaving him alone and unprotected—even if it was safer. But he took it in stride, as if I were just going away for the weekend.

After I left, I called him every night—sleeping better after hearing his voice. Then about a month before school started, some kid I didn’t know answered and said Derry wasn’t there “no more.” She didn’t know anything else so I didn’t press her.

Where’ve you been these last four months?

As I stare at his familiar form with his pure, shining halo an integral part of me that has been missing knits back into my soul. And I understand Derry’s a huge part of the person I’m becoming, the girl who trusts and loves. And stays.

After class, Derry and I meet in the aisle, mutely taking stock of one another. He’s nearly a foot taller than the last time I saw him, and I’ve got to tip my head up to gaze into his face. Although he’s smiling, I see a flicker of confusion in his gray-brown eyes. “You look different, Lexi.”

His assessment disturbs me. I drop my head to frown at my fuzzy boots realizing how much I’ve changed from the wild-haired girl with the army jacket and the don’t F— with me attitude.

“Your hair’s pretty.”

The gentle tug of his hand on my hair causes me to look up again, first at his kind eyes, then at his achingly familiar face with its slightly too big nose, and finally at his stubbly, lumpy head. “Yours is gone,” I say, brushing my hand along the side of his bristly temple.

Derry leans into my fingers before answering with a small shrug. “My new foster parents. They insist all their foster boys shave their heads—easier that way. But I don’t mind so much. All their foster girls have real short hair, too.”

“How many foster kids do you live with?”

“Eight, I think. I’m only just getting settled.” He thinks for a split second wiggling his fingers. “There are two other boys, five girls, and me—I’m the oldest foster. Then the Eccles have two kids of their own.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of kids.”

Derry just smiles serenely. “I don’t mind so much. Especially if I get to see you all the time.”

We exit through the classroom door and Gabriel’s waiting on the other side to escort me to lunch. Derry’s hand wraps around my upper arm and he pulls me closer to him as he notices Gabriel patiently watching us.

“Who’s this, Lexi?” Derry stops, narrowing his eyes and making no move to release me.

For a second, I’m completely overwhelmed. How do I explain to my best friend I’ve got someone new in my life, someone as important as he is, but that I have room for both? This isn’t the Alex that Derry knows, and I worry he won’t understand. 

Sighing, I decide to get introductions over as quickly as possible. “This is Gabriel, my—uh—boyfriend.” Derry’s brow pinches at the last word causing me to add self-consciously, “Derrick—Gabriel, Gabriel—Derrick.”

Gabriel offers his hand with a genuine smile. “Hello Derrick, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Derry stares at Gabriel’s hand as if it’s an alien man-eating bug. “I can’t say the same about you.”

Gracefully, Gabriel lets his hand drop to his side. “Don’t worry. I’m one of the good guys.”

Icily, Derry replies, “If you’re with Lexi, I’m sure you are.” Then he turns away, pulling me with him and mumbling under his breath. I can’t be sure, but it sounds like he says, “
That doesn’t mean I’ve got to like you.”

At lunch, I have the great pleasure of introducing Derry to Becke and Jonah. Derry politely shakes both their hands then circles around the table toward me. Gabriel’s sitting on my left, and instead of taking the seat to my right, Derry wedges himself between us. With an overly genial smile he asks, “You don’t mind, do you Gabe? Lexi and I haven’t seen each other in forever.”

 “Certainly, Derrick.” Gabriel makes room. As he slides over, I catch the amusement dancing in his eyes.

Wrapping his arm around me in an excessively possessive gesture that makes Becke and Jonah smirk, Derry says, “So, tell me about your fosters.”

“Oh, no,” I counter. “You just dropped off the face of the earth for the past four months. You first.”

He’s so proud of himself he practically twitches with laughter. “You see—” His expression turns sheepish as he faces me. “I’ve been moving around a lot.”

And because I know him so well—I can tell I’m not going to like his explanation. “Why?”

Squeezing me, he laughs. “Why do you think?”

But I know what it takes to move around in the system, the lies and manipulation, sometimes finding yourself in terrible situations with negligent custodians or dangerous kids, and always looking over your shoulder, sleeping with one eye open. The significance of his actions passes between us without words and he hangs his head.  Giving me his best puppy dog expression, he asks, “Are you really gonna be mad at me for wanting to be with you?”

When I continue to glare at him, he appeals to Becke and Jonah. “Lexi’s my best friend in the world, and I missed her so much. Do you guys think she should be mad at me after all the trouble I took to get here?”

Despite not knowing the awful details, my friends are already won over by Derry’s carefree spirit. Shaking their heads, they align with him. “No.” “Definitely not.”
Traitors.

“How about you, Gabe? Do you think your
girlfriend
should be mad at me?”

Gabriel raises his hands in a sign of neutrality. “I think Alex can’t help what she feels, especially regarding the people she cares about.”

“Who asked you anyway?” Dismissively he turns back to me, pleading, “I know you missed me, too, Lexi. Please don’t be mad at me. Pleeeeeeease?”

“What you did was dangerous.”

“I know.”

“And in all that time you didn’t even call me. I was worried sick!”

“I just wanted to surprise you. Besides you would’ve tried to talk sense into me. And I didn’t want to be sensible, I wanted you.” As I continue to glare, he becomes so contrite I can feel myself caving. He bats his eyelashes knowing he’s won our little skirmish. In a quiet voice meant just for me, he asks, “So do you forgive me?”

“If you promise
never ever
to do something like that again.”

He weighs my conditions before seeking clarification. “What? The moving around or not contacting you?”

“Both!”

 “Fine. I promise never to do something so stupid ever again. And you’re right, I should’ve called. I’m sorry if you were worried. But I got here as fast as I could.” He bites at his lip before admitting, “Actually, I was kind of worried you’d moved on already.”

I want to tell him Alex would’ve moved on, but I’m not her, not anymore. Would Derry get that? How I’m changing—growing into a new person? Just over Derry’s shoulder, I meet Gabriel’s warm, knowing eyes. He smiles at me encouragingly as I say, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here for a long time.”

 “Oh… Well that’s good—surprising, but good.” Derry’s gaze flickers briefly to Gabriel before settling again on me. “Now it’s your turn. What’re your fosters like?”

Although Gabriel and my friends know Derry and I are foster kids, it still feels strange talking about this in front of them. “They’re—nice, actually. They don’t have any kids of their own, so it’s just me.”

“And they’re taking good care of you?”

Nodding I pull my lunch from my school bag. As I unpack my turkey sandwich on wholegrain and baggie of grapes, I add, “They’re really great.”

With great significance he asks, “What’re their names?”

When we were twelve we came up with this theory about foster parents and their names. The nicer the couple’s names the nicer they’d be as custodians. For example Dean and Michelle Young would be better fosters than Lou and Wanda Freimeier or Harold and Betty Stickle. This concept came from crack analysis of all the foster parents we’d known—both personally and from other kids’ tales—and for the most part has held disturbingly true.

“Kate and Steven Foster.”

“No—what are their names, really?”

Unfazed, I repeat myself. “Foster. Really.”

“Wait—your fosters are
the Fosters
?” When I nod, he nearly explodes with laughter that shakes his entire body . “That’s funny, Lexi.”

Smiling at his reaction, I can’t help but agree, “I guess it is, kinda. What about yours?”

 “Earl and Tina Eccles.” He shrugs but I catch the hint of a grimace around his mouth.. “They’re okay.”  They sound dreadful, but I keep that to myself.

Derry reaches into his backpack and takes out a single squished peanut butter sandwich in cellophane. I wait for more, but he closes his pack and drops it behind him on the floor. When we were together at the center, Derry’s appetite was famous. He ate anything and was grateful to have it. There’s a story behind it but it’s not mine to tell, so I’m careful not to reveal anything in my tone as I ask, “Is that all you brought?”

He just looks at me; his eyes, slate gray with amber and walnut flecks,  radiate tranquility. “I’m not eating as much these days.” Opening the plastic, he breaks off a small piece and slowly pops it into his mouth savoring it. He’s skinny, and his new height makes him appear even more so. Although he’s taller than Gabriel by a few inches, Derry probably weighs twenty to thirty pounds less. Suddenly, I’m worried his gaunt appearance is due to more than a growth spurt.

“You’re so skinny. Are you—all right?”

“I’m perfect… now.”

When his answer does nothing to smooth the concern puckering my forehead, he nudges me playfully with his shoulder before becoming somber. “I’m fine, Lexi. I would tell you if I wasn’t—pinky promise.” I’ve got a vague feeling he’s keeping something from me, but decide to take him at his word. He gives me a satisfied smile when I lift my pinky to meet his, as I have hundreds of times before. “Still, I like that you worry about me.” Then swiveling his head around, he adds, “Did you hear that, Gabe? She worries about me.”

Gabriel meets my eyes as he hands me my share of his Oreos. The wellspring of his understanding is awe-inspiring. “She cares about you Derrick. It’s right she should care. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Doing a double take, Derry’s eyes narrow shrewdly. “You’re kind of a suck-up, aren’t you Gabe?” He helps himself to one of the cookies in my hand, twisting it apart and cutting off Gabriel’s protest by saying, “Hey, don’t be offended, some people like suck-ups. How about you, Lexi? You like suck-ups?”

Rolling my eyes, I give Derry a light shove. “I
like
Gabriel. So play nice, or else.”

“Fine!” Then to Becke and Jonah he states, “She used to be able to take a joke.”

“I can still take a joke. I’m just waiting for someone to say something funny.”

Jonah bursts out in laughter at this. “She’s got you there, dude.”

The shrill clang of the lunch bell makes us devour the remains of our food like those drooling dogs in that psychological study by Pavlov Somebody. As Gabriel clears the table Derry regards his schedule. “I’ve got English next. What-all do you guys have?” When we mumble
English
, he says, “Cool.” But our lack of enthusiasm causes him to bite his lower lip. “What’s wrong with English—other than it’s English?”