Falling From the Sky (9 page)

“You ever think it ain’t none of your business?” Terrence shoots back at him.

Aaron glances up in his rearview at Terrence. “Maybe I’ll just have to follow him one night and make it my business.”

I’m instantly nauseated by the thought. How would I explain myself if Aaron saw me sneaking in and out of a dark theatre alone with Micah? Or if he saw me driving onto the Indian reservation and Micah greeting me by the tree of skulls?

“Alright, fine,” I say. I know I’m not a good liar, but since we’re in the dark driving to an unknown destination, I hope I can pull it off. At least they can’t see my face.

“Her name is Zoey,” I say.

“I knew it!” Aaron shouts. He slams his hands against his steering wheel in excitement. “Is she hot?”

“She’s pretty,” I say. That’s not a lie. Zoey’s really pretty.

“How’d you meet her?” Aaron’s interrogation continues.

I can’t tell him the truth, not entirely anyway.

“I met her brother at the mall,” I say. “He’s into Xbox and has a lot of the newer games, so I went to his house to play and ended up meeting her there.”

Half-truths aren’t lies
, I remind myself.

“Cool,” Aaron says. “She coming to any of the games?”

“I don’t know. She has kids.” Damn it. Why did I say that?

“She what?” Aaron asks, slamming the brake. “She has kids?”

My face flushes with heat, and I feel like an idiot. I try to swallow and hydrate my mouth with spit so I don’t sound like a small child making up a creative tall tale as I go.

“She has two little girls – twins. She got pregnant in high school,” I explain.

Now I’m just making Zoey sound bad, and I can’t think of a good reason to get involved with an older girl who has kids.

Aaron doesn’t seem too thrilled with my story. He probably wishes he hadn’t pressed for details. “Just wrap it when you go at it, got it? You don’t need to add to that kind of baggage.”

The click of Terrence’s seatbelt catches my ear. He leans forward, in between the seats, and looks at me.

“So, are you enjoying your time with Zoey?” he asks. “Better than hanging out with Sam?”

What the hell? Terrence knows damn well that I’m lying through my teeth. He knows Zoey is Micah’s sister, and he knows exactly who I’ve been hanging out with at night when I’m not at camp. Why would he put me on the spot like this?

“You know,” I say. “It’s just…different.”

“Hey now,” Aaron says. “It’s cool. I was just asking. You don’t have to compare your sexploits for me.”

With that, Aaron swerves off the road to a spot under a bridge, slinging Terrence across the backseat. I look over my seat to see Terrence trying to resituate himself, but Aaron slings the truck around again, spinning his tires and splashing mud against the doors. He spins in the same circle over and over, digging ruts into the ground and painting the windshield with mud.

Terrence hollers out a few times, something about crazy white boys and trying to kill him, but I don’t catch the rest. I just hold on to the “oh shit!” handle above my door and pray I survive Aaron’s reckless antics. I don’t want to die without knowing what that fourth horse means. Or the fifth or sixth or any of them. For once, in too long, I’m actually looking forward to something, and it has nothing to do with basketball.

Aaron’s truck looks like a swamp monster sitting outside the dorm, and Terrence complains about a neck injury. Aaron disappears down the hallway. He probably went in search of Zach, since they disappear to the river every night. Who fucking knows when Aaron will be back. He’ll probably stagger in with the sunrise. I don’t say anything until Terrence and I are safely alone in room eleven.

“What the hell was that about?” I demand to know.

“Man, McCoy, chill out,” he says. “I was just playing into Aaron’s game. It got him to shut up, right? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Point proven. Micah invited me to come out there for the Fourth of July,” I say. “I can’t go.”

“What else are you going to do? I know you’re not going home, so you might as well just hang out with the boy, play Xbox, whatever it is that you do,” Terrence says.

Whatever it is we do. Nice way to put it. For a second, I seriously debate going home. I can’t just sit here alone on campus all weekend. I don’t even think the staff will be around. It’s a holiday. So, it’s either his house or home. The twins or Jordan. Micah or Samantha. I should probably feel more inappropriate about this than I do.

“I need to run something over to Demetrice,” Terrence says. “You wanna ride with me?”

I settle into the passenger seat, and we ride in silence for a few moments until I realize we’re not headed to the downtown apartment where Demetrice lives.

“Where are we going?” I ask, although I already know the damn answer.

“D’s working tonight,” Terrence says. He never looks away from the road. “You know, I don’t get you, McCoy. You wanted something to take your mind off of everything, and now you’ve got it, and you don’t want it.”

I hate admitting it, so I keep my eyes focused on the streetlights outside of my window as I spill my heart to the glass more so than Terrence. I feel like I talk to his passenger side door more often than I should. Yes, I wanted a distraction. Yes, I got one. Did I expect it to come in the form of a Native American guy who likes other guys? No. Does it bother me? Not like it did two weeks ago.

“Okay, so what’s your problem?” Terrence asks. “You don’t want him around anymore? Or is the problem that you
do
want him around?”

“The problem is that I…” I stop. I don’t even know what my fucking problem is. “Just say it. You think I like him, right?”

Terrence laughs and then shakes his head as he pulls into the mall’s parking lot.

“No,” he says once the car is parked. He looks over at me. “But I do think you want him to want you.”

I pop the door open and laugh. “I don’t even know what to say to that. Let’s go find Demetrice so we can get out of here,” I say.

I let the car door slam behind me and walk a bit too quickly toward the far entrance of the mall. Micah is pretty much the last person I want to run into right now, so I’m avoiding that damn carousel at all costs. I hang around in the back of the store while Terrence goes to find his cousin.

The truth is, Terrence is right…to some extent, anyway. It’s not that I want
Micah
to want me. I just want to be wanted, period. Everyone back in Markham knows that Samantha and I are co-existing in our relationship. Mom doesn’t even look at me because I look like Dad, and I remind her of basketball which reminds her of Dad. Hell, Jordan wishes he was an only child, and I was here long before he was. I can’t lie. It feels nice to know that someone wants me around, even if it is Micah.

“Hey man,” Terrence says, walking up behind the shelf of Nike T-shirts. “Run down to that candy place with me.”

The ‘hell no’ that I’m thinking must be plastered on my face because Terrence begins a counterattack before I even complain.

“The carousel faces the opposite direction,” he says. “Your boy won’t even know we’re here, and you can avoid him for one more night. C’mon. I want to get some of those jellybeans that taste like vomit so I can give them to that damn Zach Perry.”

Well, there’s absolutely no way I can turn that down, especially since Zach is always asking for food or candy at practice to absorb the alcohol. It’ll take everything in me to keep a straight face when Terrence volunteers to share his candy. Fucking genius.

Once we’re at the candy stand, Terrence places his order while I scope out the scenery. I keep a low profile until I see Micah. He leans against the edge of the carousel booth and motions someone over to him. It’s a guy. He’s shorter than me, about Micah’s height. Brunette. Thin but somewhat athletic. Then Micah hugs him.

“Uh oh,” Terrence says, following my gaze. “You better go squash that now or someone else will be playing your Xbox games.”

“Shut up,” I mumble. But he’s right. Micah is all too friendly with this guy.

It physically stings. What the fuck is wrong with me? There’s no way I’m jealous. I mean, yeah, if this dude showed up at his house and crashed an Xbox session, I’d be pissed. But Micah is free to talk to whomever he damn well pleases.

Except this guy.

I tell Terrence that I’ll be back and make a beeline for the carousel. I slow down once I’m a bit closer, shake my hair like an emo kid to look a little more natural, and stand tall – because you know, male dominance and all that. Whatever that other guy says is in one ear and out the other the moment Micah sees me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. He smiles, though, so obviously this isn’t an awkward moment…unless he’s expecting an orgy.

“Terrence had to bring something to his cousin, so I just tagged along,” I say as nonchalantly as I can. “Busy night?”

Micah shakes his head. “Nah, dead actually,” he says. “Oh, this is Tyler, Emilia’s boyfriend. You remember my cousin Emilia, right? Pax’s sister?”

I swear, something inside of me literally crumbles like a broken statue. I don’t know if it’s my lungs or my heart or maybe my entire ribcage. I should have the words ‘fucking idiot’ permanently inked into my forehead, branded like a goddamn cow.

Tyler reaches out to shake my hand, mumbles something about Emilia wasting too much time looking at nail polish, and how he better get back and find her. I finally catch a bubble of oxygen about the time he walks away.

“So, Fourth of July? You coming?” Micah asks, completely oblivious to my male dominance and green glow of envy.

Terrence’s shadow closes in on us just as the question leaves Micah’s mouth.

“What’s happening on the Fourth?” he asks, looking at me instead of Micah. Terrence is damn good at playing dumb as shit.

“We’re having a cookout on the res, pretty huge,” Micah says. “And then we go down to our side of the river for the fireworks show. It’s epic. You should come too.”

“Hell yeah,” Terrence says, nodding along like this is such a freaking brilliant idea. “McCoy here can give me directions. I’ll definitely swing by.”

And then, as quickly as he popped over here to seal the deal for my weekend, Terrence makes some lame excuse about going to look for some Adidas shorts and that he’ll wait for me at the sports store but “no rush.”

When I finally break away from Micah fifteen minutes later, I take the walk of shame down the mall to find Terrence. I dread having to look him in the eye when I know, without a doubt, that he was right.

I want Micah to want me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I keep an eye on my cell phone while I pack. Micah’s probably texting a lecture back to me. All I said was, “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” And that’s the truth. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve been to his house or how many times the Jocolnu tribe has seen me tagging along like his lost puppy. There’s nothing smart about spending the Fourth of July weekend with him.

I should’ve paid more attention in my history classes. I remember that Columbus sailed the ocean. The white men had guns instead of arrows. The pilgrims had a feast, and everyone died of small pox. But I’m sure that somewhere in there was a rule about white guys staying off Indian reservations on Independence Day.

My phone buzzes. It’s not the novel text I expected. In fact, it’s a threat to never speak to me again along with premature accusations that if I don’t show up this weekend, I’ll have ruined his life. He can seriously be such a drama queen sometimes.

I drag a huge sack of laundry along with me as I head to my car to leave camp. I hate having to do laundry at Micah’s house. It’s like I’m intruding or just making myself far too at home, but it’d be really weird for me to return to campus to do laundry when I’m supposed to be back home in Markham for the holiday. I’d rather not have to explain myself on that one. I flip off the light behind me and leave room eleven to itself for the rest of the weekend – like it or not.

Terrence better show his face at this cookout tomorrow night. It’s his fault that I’m even going to Micah’s house this weekend. Okay, not really. I’d have broken down and agreed to go with or without Terrence’s persuasion. I’m more wanted on the reservation than I am at my own house. Mom texted me twice this week, just to check in, and Samantha has been silent. She’s probably making out with some football player, which is fine by me.

Micah’s truck is the only vehicle outside of his house when I pull up. I’m actually glad his mom isn’t around much, even if it’s hard on him. It makes crashing over here a lot easier for me. I duck to keep from hitting those stupid paper lanterns as I make my way onto the porch. I know the front door is unlocked for me, but I still knock and wait for him to let me in.

“I was wondering if you were going to stand me up,” he says when he opens the door.

“I wouldn’t stand you up,” I tell him.

He takes my bag of dirty clothes and motions me inside. “Yeah, you don’t really seem like the type.”

“Are you labeling me?” I ask.

“Shut up. It’s a good label,” he says, pushing the door shut behind us.

I walk down the hallway to his bedroom and leave my gym bag just inside the door. I trek back through the house to find Micah, who has helped himself to my laundry. He tosses the last items of my clothes into the washer.

“Let me change,” he says. “We’re going to run to the mall. I want to show you something before this weekend.”

He pulls his shirt off and drops it into the washer with my clothes before closing the lid and brushing past me.

Micah pulls into a gravel parking lot next to the mall. The building looks like a warehouse, like the home of the Graffiti Kings but more modern. I follow him through the frame of what is now a missing door. Endless tables of fireworks stretch before us.

“You wanted to show me a firework warehouse?” I ask.

“No. This is a pit stop. They have a huge show tomorrow at the river,” he says. “But these are for before and after, just because it’s fun.”

He sorts through the overpriced ‘you can do these at home’ boxes and pulls out a pack of Roman Candles. I remember some guys shooting them last year at the local park’s Fourth of July celebration. The security guards escorted them out for all the obvious safety violations.