Roll

  “Yeah. I mean, don’t you think? Their numbers are way up,” Sutton says.

  I can’t help the little swell of pride that pushes its way up my throat. This must be what it feels like to be a parent.

  Only, you know, a little weirder.

  Capping her pen, Sutton shoves it through the little hole at the top of the clipboard. “So what are you up to tonight? Want to come over? We could start season two.”

  In our off time, Sutton and I have been working our way through the box set of the original Batman TV show, with Adam West and Burt Ward. My parents gave them to me for Christmas last year. I tried to watch them with Aiden, but they weren’t really his thing. He claimed the violence wasn’t realistic enough.

  Which is true, but not really the point, you know?

  “Oh. Um . . .”

  Speaking of Aiden, he’s supposed to stay over tonight. His parents have a date. When Mom mentioned it over dinner last night, she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively during the word “date.”

  In protest, I left the table without even finishing my ice cream.

  Sutton and I have been so busy with the kit that Aiden and I haven’t seen each other since that afternoon at Mickey’s. He hasn’t even been over to help with the basement; last Tuesday he was sick, and this week he had his back-to-school doctor’s checkup. Everything’s seemed okay when we’ve talked on the phone, though. I mean, I’m not worried, or anything. It’s like Aiden said; the fact that he’s hanging out with Kurt isn’t a big deal.

  Still, it’s strange. Two weeks is the longest I’ve ever gone without seeing Aiden. Even that one time in third grade, when he went to go visit his grandmother in Arizona, he was only gone for ten days.

  “Aiden’s spending the night,” I tell Sutton.

  “Oh.” Sutton’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s something about the way it stays exactly the same that makes me feel guilty. Like she’s trying to not look disappointed. “Okay. No biggie.”

  “Sorry,” I say. “His parents are staying in Rochester for the night. For a date.”

  Sutton wrinkles her nose. “Gross.”

  I nod in agreement, thinking. Maybe having Sutton there would be good. Just in case there’s any lingering awkwardness between Aiden and me. She could be a buffer. Like the electrical tape I used as insulation on my portable Van de Graaff experiment, to make sure there weren’t any sparks.

  Plus, you know, it might be fun.

  “Why don’t you come over for a while, too?” I ask. “We’ll just be hanging out and watching TV and stuff, but, you know . . .” I trail off, realizing I don’t really have any other selling points. “You should come.”

  “Are you sure?” Sutton asks, looking dubious. “Aiden won’t mind me crashing? I kind of got a weird vibe from him, at the drive-in.”

  “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “It won’t be weird. Promise.”

  Sutton still doesn’t look convinced.

  “Come on,” I wheedle.

  “Okay, okay.” Sutton gives me a little grin. “I’m in. Thanks.”

  “Cool,” I say.

  My oldest friend and my newest friend, together for the first time.

  This’ll be great.

  CHAPTER 20

  YOU CAN TELL Mr. and Mrs. Sorenson are going on a date because even though she’s still in a pantsuit, Mrs. S’s hair is loose. Usually, she wears it piled on top of her head in something Mom calls a “chignon” and Dad calls a “bun.” Whatever its name is, it’s very professional-looking.

  Aiden slides easily out of the SUV, his high-tops kicking up little clouds of dust on the driveway. Unlike me, he doesn’t need to hop, since his legs actually reach the ground.

  There’s a minute or two of tell your parents thank you and don’t stay up too late and you remembered clean underwear, right? and then Aiden’s parents are creeping out of the driveway, on their way to Rochester for, er . . . eyebrow wiggling, I guess.

  Aiden slings his backpack over his shoulder. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  We’re both quiet for a second.

  Nope. Nothing weird here.

  Aiden slaps away a mosquito. Despite the heat, he’s wearing jeans. Skinny jeans. They look new.

  “Hey,” I say, then realize I’m repeating myself. I reach up to smooth down my hair, like it suddenly matters that it’s sticking up all over the place. “So I hope it’s cool, but I invited Sutton to hang out for a while tonight.”

  Aiden looks surprised. “Really? So you guys have been, like, hanging out, hanging out?”

  “Um, kind of.”

  He looks impressed. “Nice work, dude.”

  I can feel myself blushing, which is ridiculous. “Not like that,” I say quickly. “We’re just friends.” A cloud of dust is drifting toward our house, following Sutton’s car. “Here she is,” I say as Eva’s station wagon turns into our driveway. “Be cool, okay?”

  “I’m always co . . .”

  Aiden trails off as Eva pulls up in front of us, lowering her window. With her blonde hair hanging loose around her shoulders, she looks like an actress. If this was a horror movie, she’d definitely be killed first.

  I can see Aiden’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.

  Wait. Since when does Aiden have an Adam’s apple?

  “Lauren, hi. Thanks so much for having Sutton,” Eva says, smiling up at me. “And you must be Lauren’s friend,” she says, turning toward Aiden. “Nice to meet you. I’m Eva Davies.”

  Aiden flushes bright red. Like, really, really red. “Uh . . . hi,” he mumbles.

  “This is Aiden,” I say helpfully.

  On the other side of the car, Sutton is opening her door. As she stands up, her unnaturally red hair catches the light.

  “Hey,” Sutton says, looking a little wary.

  Aiden nods, still tongue-tied.

  “Okay, well, you kids have fun. I’ll say hi to Dad for you, honey.” With a final wave, Eva reverses back down the driveway. The three of us are left on our own.

  Aiden finally manages to pull himself together. “Um, hey. How’s it going?”

  Sutton smiles cautiously at him from across the gravel.

  And, just like that, I start to worry this isn’t such a good idea, after all.

  Maybe I didn’t think this through enough. Friendly-ish greeting aside, what if Sutton and Aiden hate each other? Or worse, what if they don’t?

  What if Sutton realizes she likes Aiden better than me? What if I seem like a nerd in comparison? A short nerd who doesn’t even have bangs?

  What if I seem like a massive dork to Aiden, now that he has Sutton to compare me against? What if he decides he’s outgrown me? In every sense of the word?

  Or what if they both decide I’m too dorky to hang out with? When school starts, I’ll have no one. I’ll have to hide in a bathroom stall to eat my lunch.

  A bathroom stall. I mean, can you imagine the sort of germs lurking in there? I’d give it a week, tops, before I came down with some phobia like paruresis (otherwise known as shy bladder syndrome).

  Aiden breaks the silence. “I like your shirt.”

  Sutton looks down at her T-shirt, which reads “Jane’s Addiction” in curly script. “Thanks. It’s my dad’s.”

  I force myself to relax. I’m overreacting. Obviously.

  I mean, I could always eat my lunch in the science lab.

  “So should we go inside?” I ask. “Mom let Dad go to the store and he bought, like, six bags of chips.”

  Sutton shrugs. “I could eat some chips,” she says, heading for the porch. She gives me a small smile as she passes. I smile uncertainly back.

  Please let this not be a mistake.

  Two hours later, I can’t even remember what I was so worried about. Things are going great. We’ve eaten our weight in chips, and watched YouTube videos, and played video games. Sutton and Aiden are getting along just the right amount; friendly, but not too friendly. It’s perfect.

  It feels
good to be hanging out with Aiden again. Even with Sutton here, it feels normal. Like how it’s always been.

  Even if he is checking his phone more than he used to.

  Anyway, it turns out Sutton is a natural when it comes to Beanotown Racing. I think even Aiden’s impressed with how violent she is.

  “Oh, come on!” Sutton shouts, throwing herself back in her chair as her Minnie the Minx character coasts to a stop. “I thought I had him,” she complains.

  “You want to play again?” I ask. “Minnie kind of sucks. I’m telling you, it’s all about the Bananaman racer.”

  Beanotown Racing is a lot like Mario Kart, only with classic British comic book characters, like Korky the Cat, and Roger the Dodger. It’s pretty much the best game ever. It came out, like, fifteen years ago, and you can only play it on the computer. Which makes it more authentic, in my opinion.

  Sutton shakes her head. “My mom’s going to be here soon. Besides, I’m starting to cramp up.” She massages her hand, wiggling her fingers back and forth to get the blood flowing again.

  I lean back against the couch cushions, which are all squashy because they’re so old. When Aiden and I were little, we used to build pillow forts with the same cushions, and have these epic battles with our Star Wars action figures. It was great.

  I still have all of them, packed away in a box up in my room. I wonder what Aiden would say if I brought them out right now.

  I probably shouldn’t risk it while there’s a girl here. Even if it’s just Sutton.

  “Your turn,” I tell Aiden, starting to hand him the laptop.

  He shakes his head. “I’m good. You always beat me, anyway.”

  True. I shut the computer, setting it aside. Aiden takes a long swig of his soda. “So you raise birds?” he asks Sutton, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Like, pigeons?”

  “Yeah,” Sutton says. “It’s weird, I know.”

  “My dad collects stamps,” Aiden says. “So it’s not that weird.”

  “So are you into comic books, too?” Sutton asks. “Ren’s been letting me borrow some of his.”

  I open my mouth to answer for Aiden, but he beats me to the punch.

  “Yeah. I mean, I guess.”

  I guess?

  “You love comics,” I argue.

  “I don’t love comics,” Aiden says. “I mean, I like them. But I like other stuff, too. I’m going out for basketball,” he tells Sutton.

  I stare at him for a second. “I didn’t know you’d decided. About basketball.”

  “Yeah. Well, I have.”

  Sutton looks between the two of us.

  “It’s not that big of a deal.” Aiden shrugs.

  Yes, it is, I want to shout. It’s a huge deal. Why can’t you see that?

  But instead, I just shrug, too. “Fine.”

  “Fine,” Aiden repeats.

  “Oh, look at the time,” Sutton says out of nowhere, glancing down at her watch. “My mom’ll be here any second.” She stands up, brushing crumbs from her lap. “But do you guys want to watch that video of the monkey riding the horse one more time before I leave?”

  CHAPTER 21

  “SUTTON SEEMS COOL. Kind of weird, but cool.”

  Aiden’s voice is coming from the floor. We’ve shifted all my unpacked boxes to one side, leaving just enough room for him to unroll his sleeping bag and stretch out.

  It’s past midnight, and I should be tired.

  I’m not.

  “Her hair reminds me of Jean Grey,” Aiden’s disembodied voice says.

  The Phoenix. X-Men. I know I should leave it alone, but I can’t. “I thought you weren’t that into comic books anymore.”

  Aiden sighs, like I’m the one who’s being irrational.

  “I never stopped liking comic books, okay? Anyway, I think she likes you, dude.”

  “We’re just friends. I’m helping her with her pigeons.”

  Why does everyone suddenly have to try to make things more than they are?

  “Well, you should see if she wants to come to Kurt’s party,” Aiden continues. “I’m sure it’d be cool with him. What kind of swimsuits do you think goth chicks wear, anyway?” he asks.

  “I told you, she’s not goth. She’s just . . . different.” I shift around a little bit, searching for a comfortable position. “Anyway, I don’t see what the big deal is about this party. Kurt doesn’t even have a real pool.”

  In the dark, I can see Aiden sitting up. “Dude, why are you so obsessed with Kurt’s pool? It’s getting weird.”

  “I’m not obsessed. If I was going to get obsessed with something, believe me, it wouldn’t be Kurt Richardson’s aboveground pool.”

  “So, what then? Why are you mad at me?”

  “I’m not mad,” I insist. It’s true. I’m not mad. I don’t know what I am, exactly. I feel like someone cracked an egg at the back of my neck, and the yolk is slowly oozing down my spine.

  It’s not a good feeling.

  “It’s just . . . I don’t get you,” I say. “I thought everything was back to normal. But it’s not. You’re different. I mean, you even look different.”

  “So I bought a couple of new shirts. So what?”

  “It’s not about your clothes,” I say in frustration. “It’s about you. Ever since you started hanging out with Kurt, you’re different.”

  “What, are you jealous?”

  Of course I am. “No,” I say aloud. “But it’s not fair. Did you know they don’t even deliver pizza this far out? I’m stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, and you’re off in town, making all these new friends. Without me.”

  Aiden gives his pillow a thwock, flattening out the middle part for his head. “Yeah, well, I kind of didn’t have a choice, dude. You moved. What did you want me to do? Sit in my basement all summer, alone? Staring at a picture of you, or something?”

  Yes.

  Well, no.

  Not when he puts it like that. At least not the picture part.

  “Besides,” Aiden continues. “Even when you were in town, all you ever wanted to do was go to Three Men or play that boring video game.”

  “It’s not boring. Beanotown is totally awesome.”

  “Yeah, maybe in the nineties. I mean, Call of Duty, dude. Ever heard of it?”

  “So, what?” I try to process what Aiden’s saying. “Two months of hanging out with Kurt Richardson, and now you’re too cool for everything we used to do?”

  “I’m not saying that,” Aiden argues. “I’m just saying sometimes I want to do some other stuff, too. Like, I love burgers, but I’m not going to eat them for every meal, you know? Sometimes I want a steak.”

  “You realize burgers and steak are both from the same animal,” I point out.

  Monophagia, I think. The practice of eating only one kind of food.

  “See?” Aiden gives his pillow another punch. Harder, this time. “That’s another thing. Why do you always have to do that? We get it, okay? You’re smarter than everyone else. Atticus was right; you’re the King of the Geeks.” He sort of whispers this last part.

  I feel like I’m about to throw up. “Wait, what did you say?”

  “I said you’re smarter than everyone, okay? We get it.”

  “No, not that,” I say shakily. “The other part.”

  King of the Geeks.

  Bile floods the back of my throat.

  Math class, last spring.

  The sign taped to my back.

  I can still hear the whispers in the hallway as I walked to my locker. Feel myself grow numb as I looked over my shoulder. As I realized why everyone was laughing at me.

  King of the Geeks.

  I’d peeled the sign off and stuffed it in my locker. Crumpled it up like it didn’t matter. Like it didn’t even exist. Like the whole thing had never even happened.

  Later, Aiden swore he didn’t know who did it.

  I’d believed him, even though he’d been walking right next to me. We never talked about it again.
/>
  “It was Atticus,” I repeat. Like saying it aloud will somehow make it more believable. “Atticus made the sign. And you knew it. You saw him do it.”

  There’s silence from the floor. I’m not even sure if Aiden’s breathing.

  “It was just a joke,” Aiden finally says. His voice is so low I can barely hear him. “Okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. He felt really bad about it afterward.”

  “Oh, well then, great. As long as he felt bad about it, then it’s totally fine.”

  Silence again.

  “You just . . . you had your hand in the air the entire class, you know?”

  I remember that day. We were going over fractions.

  I’m good at fractions.

  “You said you didn’t know who did it.” The vomit-y feeling is getting stronger now. “You lied to me.”

  “I guess I just got sick of you showing off, okay?”

  “Showing off?” I ask, incredulously. “I was just answering the questions.”

  “Yeah. All of them,” Aiden mumbles under his breath. He shakes his head. “Look. I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have told you. Can we just . . . drop it?”

  We could drop it. It isn’t too late. We could go back to pretending everything is normal.

  But what would be the point?

  I take a shaky breath. “That day at the drive-in. When you didn’t invite me to go swimming. Tell me the truth. Was it because you were embarrassed by me?”

  Aiden doesn’t say anything.

  “What about Kurt’s party? Do you even want me to come? Or did you just invite me out of pity?”

  Silence.

  I can’t believe this is happening.

  I need to get out of here.

  My legs are trembling as I push myself off the bed. I grab my blanket and pillow.

  “Ren, wait.”

  I turn to look at him. Aiden. My best friend since kindergarten.

  Right now, in the dark, he looks like a stranger.

  “Do you even want to be friends anymore?” I can hear my voice cracking, but for once, I don’t even care.

  “Of course I want to be friends,” Aiden says. “I just . . . I didn’t think you’d fit in with Kurt and those guys, okay? It’s not a big deal, okay, so just . . . wait a second, okay?”