Here's to You, Zeb Pike Page 7

  “Hey, kiddo.” He has carried me halfway up the tower stairs already. “You must be one tired kid.” He’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat in that awful book Mom used to like to read to me sometimes. Alice in Wonderland? Alice in Neverland? I think there’s a movie, too, but I’ve never really wanted to see it—that cat terrified me. “Every time you disappear for awhile you fall asleep. Are you feeling any better?”

  So much for not abandoning Julia with her brand-new family. “I’m fine,” I mumble. It’s like my worst nightmare is happening in front of me: I keep disappearing on Matt and Julia, just like our parents always have.

  We reach the bedroom before I can get a clear thought in my head and ask Jack to put me down. He plops me onto the bed and starts pulling my shoes off. “I can do that,” I say, pushing him away as I sit up. Jack rubs my hair, and I don’t even try to stop myself from pulling away.

  “Hey, school tomorrow, okay? So get some more sleep. Beth said you looked pretty pale at lunch; you still kind of do.”

  I don’t really answer him; I just pull my shoes off. It’s late, and I fell asleep on Julia’s new pink bed while she was trying to tell me a story.

  Chapter 4

  ONE YEAR Earlier

  “Dusty, what’s up with you?”

  Dusty came out of his thoughts, startled, and realized the McDonald’s he and Race were sitting in was almost empty. “Where’d everybody go?”

  “They left. You’ve been, like, lost in space. You okay?”

  Dusty shook his head, trying to get the fantasy he’d been in the middle of gone—as soon as possible. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” He wadded up the cheeseburger wrapper in front of him. “I finally have a night off, right? Mom’s home with Matt and Julia, and not even yelling at us right now, and I got to go to the movies with you and the other guys. What would be wrong?”

  Race’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, that’s what I was wondering.”

  Dusty squirmed uncomfortably. The problem was that Daniel Garcia-Allan had come with them, and lately everything about Daniel had been making Dusty nervous.

  Not that Daniel had been doing anything wrong. Daniel was just being himself—funny, loud, exciting. That night he had almost gotten thrown out of the theater for starting a popcorn fight with Race.

  The problem was that when Daniel did stuff like that, it made Dusty… well, it made him feel the way he was pretty sure girls were supposed to be making him feel. And that was starting to worry him.

  It was also starting to worry him that he really wanted to run his hands through Daniel’s dark-brown hair, and sit next to him in the movie theater, and hang out with him more.

  Race was still looking at him, and Dusty thought for a second about just blurting the problem out. But how could he? Race would hate him, right? Race would never talk to him again.

  “Everything’s fine, dude. I guess I’m just worried about leaving my mom for too long with Matt and Julia, you know? I mean, she could lose it again anytime. Let’s call your mom to come get us, okay?”

  Race looked like he might argue for a second, but then he pulled out his cell phone and started dialing. Dusty sighed in relief.

  I’M UP early the next morning. Not only because I’ve now slept more in two days than I slept in the previous month, but also because I know school is coming. I’m already done with my shower and ready to wake up Matt and Julia when Beth comes trotting up the stairs in sweats. She has a dog leash in her hand.

  “Wow, Dusty, you’re already up! I was coming to pull you guys out of bed. School today!” She is, like, way too chipper. You can tell she’s not heading off to her first day at a new school.

  “I’ll wake the kids up,” I announce. “I like doing it.”

  She hesitates. “Umm… okay,” she says slowly. “Why don’t you wake up Matt and I’ll wake up Julia?”

  It’s a compromise, but it’s better than nothing. I’m all too aware that I’m not going to see them the rest of the day, so I embrace the compromise and wake Matt up with an epic tickling match.

  Jack is already eating breakfast when we come down to the kitchen a little later. My stomach growls, and I realize I haven’t eaten in almost a day. “Good, Dusty, you look ready!” Jack turns to bring a cereal bowl to the sink. “Can we leave in twenty?”

  I nod and pour milk on a huge bowl of cereal. These people sure like to leave in exact amounts of minutes. “Are we dropping the kids off on the way? ’Cause they may need a little longer than that; Matt can take forever to eat breakfast sometimes.”

  “I do not.” Matt shoves me rudely in the back and sticks his tongue out at me.

  Jack shakes his head. “Actually, Dusty, we’re going in a separate direction, and I’ve got to be at school a little early, so Beth will drop the little kids off.”

  Of course. I should’ve known that was coming.

  Matt stands in front of Jack and puts his hands on his hips. “Hey, I’m not little, Uncle Jack!”

  Jack mocks terror. “Oh no, he’s heard me! The big one has heard me!” He grabs Matt up and lifts him in the air. “What if he gets me, Dustin? What if he gets me?” He swings Matt around a few times, with Matt cracking up the whole way.

  “My name’s Dusty.” I say it loudly as Jack is setting Matt down.

  “Huh?”

  “My name’s Dusty. Nobody calls me Dustin.”

  Jack doesn’t ask me why not, and I’m glad. “Okay. C’mon, Dusty, we’ll get going. Meet me in the truck after you eat.”

  We’re at least ten minutes into the trip before either of us says anything. “So, Dusty,” Jack begins, concentrating hard on the road, “I arranged for one of my hockey players to show you around the school.”

  “One of your hockey players?”

  Jack glances over. “Yeah, I’m Colby’s hockey coach. I’ve never mentioned that?” I don’t answer, so he keeps going. “His name’s Emmitt LaPoint; he’s a really good kid. He’s actually a junior, but his brother Casey’s a freshman like you, and I figured you might like them.”

  I can’t see myself being friends with members of the hockey team. I’ve never played hockey in my life or even seen a game. Prescott doesn’t have real sports teams. Everybody there just plays for the Parks and Rec teams. “Does his brother play hockey too?”

  Jack shakes his head. “Actually, no. He used to. From what Emmitt told me, he was really talented; his peewee coaches thought he’d be the next Gretzky. But he quit somewhere in junior high. He’s really into skateboarding now; he’s been really involved with the skateboarding club at Colby.”

  Suddenly I’m interested. “Colby has a skateboarding club?”

  “Sure. You still like skateboarding, Dusty? I thought you weren’t into it anymore.”

  I feel my face burn. Caught. “Well, it’s more like I’ve never had my own skateboard, so I don’t know much.”

  “That’s great, Dusty,” Jack says enthusiastically, and I’m instantly suspicious. Why does Jack think it’s great that I like skateboarding? “I mean, Beth and I were hoping there was an activity you could get into once you moved here.” I don’t answer him, and we spend the rest of the trip in silence.

  A tall kid, who I can only assume is Emmitt, is waiting outside Jack’s office when we arrive at Colby. “Hey, Emmitt.” Jack puts down his bag to unlock his office and motions for us to shake hands. “Emmitt LaPoint, this is Dusty Porter. Not Dustin. Dusty Porter, this is Emmitt LaPoint. Not Emmy.”

  He seems to think that’s pretty funny, but I’m not amused. Emmitt cracks a little bit of a smile, but he’s all business in a matter of seconds. “Nice to meet you, Dusty. You sure look like Coach Morton.”

  I guess I’m going to be hearing that a lot around this school, considering we’re mirror images.

  “Hey, Coach, do you know his locker assignment?”

  Jack frowns as he finally gets his office door unlocked. He fishes around inside his bag for a moment before he comes up with a green slip of paper. “Here, Dusty. It’s t
he total enrollment package. Locker assignment, homeroom location, schedule.”

  Emmitt looks over my shoulder at the paper in front of me and nods. “Cool. Okay, Coach, I’ll start taking him around the school before everybody gets here.”

  Maybe I suddenly have a deer-in-the-headlights look, because Jack puts his hand on my shoulder. “Is that okay, Dusty? I mean, if you guys can give me a few minutes, I can come around with you.”

  Excellent—my uncle baby-sitting me on my first day. “No, Jack, I’ll be fine.”

  A few minutes later, Emmitt and I are walking down the wide school hallway. Emmitt studies locker numbers as he looks for mine, and I study Emmitt. He has dark-blond hair that’s kind of curly and hangs down around his ears. His eyes are really green, as green as—well, once I start thinking about it, my dad’s. Even though he doesn’t look that big, you can tell he’s pretty built. Must be the hockey. He’s wearing khakis and a button-up shirt. I look down at my black polo and old jeans and wonder what the other kids at Colby are going to be dressed like. The fact is that this guy is really good-looking, and I can’t keep my eyes off him as he explains what the classrooms are on each side of the hall we’re walking down. I’m definitely going to get lost at some point during the day.

  It was probably late last school year—the end of eighth grade—when I got really worried about the fact that I just didn’t think girls were all that amazing-looking. Race could babble on about them for hours. Jasmine has the most amazing boobs, I’d love to get to second base with her and Did you see those jeans Erin’s wearing today? Holy shit, that ass, Dusty. Jasmine’s boobs and Erin’s ass never did anything for me, but when I had my first PE class with Daniel Garcia-Allan, I started to realize why. I got a B in that PE class only because I missed most of the directions Coach Cartwright gave us.

  At first it completely freaked me out, and I spent about a month trying to figure out what I was going to do. Then I realized there wasn’t much to do. I was so busy taking care of Matt and Julia that it wasn’t like I had time to date anyway, and Race always just assumed that was why I didn’t ask any girls out. I’d still dance with a few of them at Prescott dances, and nobody ever seemed to guess that if I had it my way I would have been dancing with a six-foot-three basketball player who definitely did not have C-cups.

  Emmitt finds my locker for me, and I tear my eyes away from him long enough to get it open. It isn’t too far away from my homeroom—only about two hallways—so mornings will be a breeze.

  Emmitt proceeds to lead me on a tour of my schedule, taking me to each of my classes one by one. He’s thorough. He hits every detail of the school, which is big, right down to where I am welcome to sit with him and his brother in the cafeteria. He’s so thorough that I manage to forget how amazing his eyes are long enough to actually figure out where my classes are.

  “So, do you do this as a job or something?” I finally ask him. “You really have a routine.”

  Emmitt starts laughing. “Nah. I just did this at the beginning of the year for my little brother, so I sort of repeated it for you. I think that’s why Coach asked me to do it.” By this time we’ve circled back to my locker, but he hangs around and keeps talking. “Coach is a cool guy, but I didn’t think you’d want your uncle showing you around on your first day or anything.”

  Very true. Since “Wanna go to the movies this weekend?” probably isn’t an appropriate question to ask at this point, I decide to ask something else I’ve been curious about. “Is your brother really into skateboarding or something?” I haven’t seen any skate parks around town or any kids with skateboards coming into school, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I like to skateboard, and I sure don’t carry a board around with me—I don’t even own one.

  Emmitt rolls his eyes. “Obsessed, for about the last two years. Why, you into boarding too?”

  I start unpacking my backpack and loading notebooks into my locker. The notebooks are all empty, white, brand-new and newly purchased by Beth. Already I miss my old history notebook from Prescott, completely covered with the Calvin and Hobbes cartoons I’ve been drawing on the cover since August. “Yeah, a little. I’d love to find out where there are some skate parks around here.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Emmitt answers. “I’ll make sure Casey sits with us during lunch so he can tell you all about that scene. Me, I’m just into hockey.”

  By now it’s almost time for homeroom. The hallways have started to completely fill up, and people are yelling hello to Emmitt from every direction. “Man, I gotta get my stuff,” he says. “You gonna find your homeroom okay?”

  I look around at the giant crowd of people that seems to have materialized around me. “I’ll be okay.” I grab my books and start pushing my way through the hall as Emmitt heads in the opposite direction.

  I’m not delusional. I’m completely aware—way too aware—that there is almost zero chance he’s like me about the girl thing, and that makes me wonder why everything about my life has to be so frigging unfair all the time.

  “SO, HOW’D it go?” Jack asks me, with great interest, on the ride home.

  “Okay. It went just fine.”

  It really did. All my teachers seem decent; only two even brought up how much Jack and I look alike. Everybody at Colby dresses kind of differently, so my clothes didn’t stand out too much or anything. This girl named Alicia started talking to me in French class and made sure I didn’t look like a total loser in the two other classes we had together. (I’m a little worried she’s developing a crush on me, but I’ve decided to stress about that later.) Even though the kids at Colby look way different from the kids at my old school—there were lots of black and Hispanic kids at Prescott, while everyone in northern Vermont seems to be white—they act basically the same.

  Casey turned out to be really cool. He and Emmitt are a lot alike; they’re both really easy to get along with. Of course, they dress nothing like each other. Where Emmitt is sort of preppy, Casey is all skateboarder, and his outfit of the day consisted of skinny jeans, Converse sneakers, and a shirt that said ONLY AN IDIOT WOULD TAKE THE TIME TO READ THIS T-SHIRT. He’d introduced himself to me at lunch by handing me a cheeseburger and launching into a long explanation of why the skate park below the tracks was way better than the one closer to the school. I couldn’t even find space to get a word in. When he was finally done, he looked up at me and said, “You wanna join the skate club? We practice together.” I didn’t get to answer before he started going on about the differences between his two favorite skateboards. He even offered to lend me a skateboard to practice with when I finally got the chance to mention that I didn’t have one.

  Of course, there had been some jackass in my American history class who’d snorted loudly when the teacher introduced me and made some stupid comment about whether I was as dumb as my twin. I decided not to mention that to Jack. I’d already figured out that the kid was probably some asshole Jack had failed in one of his math classes, and anyway, the teacher had nailed him to the wall and sent him to the office. Why make a big deal out of it?

  “Good,” says Jack,” waking me out of my daze. “I’m glad it went okay. What did you think of Emmitt and Casey?”

  I try not to crack a smile thinking about Casey’s nonstop speeches at lunch and Emmitt’s… well, Emmitt’s everything. “They were cool.” I suddenly feel like I should say something else. I mean, if it weren’t for Jack, I might’ve had to eat lunch in the corner of the cafeteria by myself. “Uhh… thanks… for introducing me and all.” Jack just nods and smiles.

  We don’t talk much of the rest of the way home. The kids are already home, and Julia greets me at the door by literally flinging herself into my arms. “Dusty! School is so much fun! My teacher is really nice and she likes my doll and she let us use markers to color and Aunt Beth is going to be one of the room mothers….”

  Jules keeps talking, but I almost drop her when she says that. Beth’s going to be a room mother at Danville Elementary?
<
br />   I’m just setting down Julia, who is still talking a mile a minute, when Matt comes rushing in. “Dusty, I already joined the soccer team! And Aunt Beth’s even going to help out the coach!”

  I smile faintly and lead the kids into the kitchen with me. Something in the oven smells really good, and I can see a pie on the counter in the back. How does this woman have time for all this?

  “Hey, Dusty!” Beth pulls a casserole dish out of the oven and motions me over. “How was your first day of school?”

  “Uhh… fine, I guess. You’re going to help out at the elementary school?”

  “Oh, of course!” Beth dips a spoon into the casserole dish. “I’ve always volunteered there anyway. My business does really well without all the work it took when I first got it started; I have plenty of time to volunteer…. Dusty, are you feeling any better? You still look a little pale. Are you coming down with something?”

  I shake my head. “Of course not. I feel fine. Hey, Beth, could I help out at their school too, you think?”

  Beth looks up in surprise. “I don’t see why not…. I’ll talk to the principal and ask. It’s just that you’re usually going to be in school during the volunteer hours. But maybe you can help out with Matt’s soccer team too.”

  As in also, I think. As in along with you. “I have a lot of homework,” I say gruffly. “Hey, Matt, Jules, let’s go in the living room and I’ll help you with your homework.”

  Jules shakes her head widely, spreading her blond hair quickly around her face. “We already did it! Aunt Beth helped us. Now she’s going to let us walk the dogs with her.”

  I ruffle Jules’s hair and try to smile.

  I decide to do my homework upstairs; suddenly the kitchen doesn’t smell as good as it did a few minutes earlier.

  “MR. PORTER—are you ready to share your topic with the class?”

  I like Mr. Lewis, all in all, as a history teacher. He’s pretty relaxed, and our big project this semester is to choose a topic in American history that interests us and give a presentation on the subject. I generally like school stuff like that, where you get to decide what you want to learn about and sort of go at your own pace with it.