Darius the Great Deserves Better - Adib Khorram Page 0,84
You played your hardest.”
“Thanks.”
“Gold star,” Laleh said.
I knelt down.
“Really? A gold star? Me?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks, Laleh.”
Mom rested her hand on my shoulder.
“We’re so proud of you.”
“I guess.”
I ran a hand through my hair, which accidentally sprayed my family with sweat.
Laleh squealed.
“Sorry! Sorry. I better go clean off.”
“We’ll see you at home,” Mom said. Despite my sweatiness, she pulled me down to kiss my messy forehead. Dad did too. He held on to my neck and said, “Really, Darius. We’re so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I held his eyes, and he smiled and nodded at me.
He wasn’t back to normal yet, but he was getting better. The bags under his eyes had shrunk, small gray crescents instead of giant blue saucers.
“Love you,” I said.
“Love you, son,” he said back.
At the corner of the stands, Chip was talking to Trent, who was bouncing Evie on his lap.
I knew he was her uncle, but it was still deeply disturbing to see firsthand.
Next to them, a woman with light brown skin and dark wavy hair pulled Chip in for a hug.
Was that Chip’s mom?
Suddenly Evie’s complexion made sense.
I always thought Chip’s mom was white. I always thought Chip was white too. I didn’t realize he was Fractional like me.
I don’t know why finding that out made me so happy.
(I knew why that made me happy.)
Chip waved me over.
“Darius,” he said, “this is my mom. Sofia.”
“Hi,” I said. “Thank you for all the Gatorades.”
Sofia’s laugh was like a waterfall. She grinned at me.
She had her son’s grin.
“Thanks for keeping Cyprian out of trouble.”
“Sure.”
From Trent’s lap, Evie waved at me. I waved back and avoided Trent’s eyes.
“I better go get my stuff,” I said. “Nice meeting you.”
“Don’t be a stranger. Come for empanadas sometime. We’ve got more Gatorades.”
“Thanks.”
I was nearly off the field when I heard someone behind me.
“Where’s your boy toy, Dairy Queen?”
I shook my head and kept walking, but Trent jogged into my field of view. He must’ve passed Evie off.
“Hey. Which one of you is which?”
“Which what?” I said, because I couldn’t make any sense of his question/insult.
I knew I should have kept my mouth closed, but it was an automatic thing, and I couldn’t take it back.
“Which one’s the goal and which one’s the post?”
I shook my head and didn’t respond.
“Which one’s the plug and which one’s the socket?”
My face burned as Trent followed me, offering suggestion after ridiculous suggestion.
My neck prickled, and the sweat felt cold against my skin. Trent kept getting louder and louder until—
“Hey!” I paused and looked back. Chip had his arm out, blocking Trent from following me. “What the heck, dude?”
There it was again: heck. Like that was a word guys used.
“What?”
“Why are you always such a jerk to him? What did he ever do to you?”
“Nothing. I’m just teasing.”
“No you’re not. You’re being awful. And it’s gotten worse since I told you I liked him.”
Chip glanced back at me for a second.
I was frozen.
But then he turned around and said, “You’re supposed to be my best friend. Why don’t you act like you’re worth it?”
Trent’s mouth opened and closed. He looked from Chip, to me, and then to Gabe and Jaden, who had slowed down to wait for us and were watching the scene with their arms folded across their chests.
His face reddened.
I never noticed how much he looked like an angry baby with his face all red.
His overlarge nostrils flared.
“Whatever.” He tried to push past Chip’s arm, but Chip didn’t budge, so he turned and slouched back toward the stands.
Chip lowered his arm and let out his breath. His whole body depressurized in front of me.
Jaden and Gabe murmured to each other, but I couldn’t make anything out. I just stared at Chip, who nodded to himself, and then caught me looking.
He had this look in his eyes. I don’t know how to describe it.
It was like he was utterly lost.
But then he shrugged, and looked down at his feet, and walked past me toward the locker room.
What just happened?
ALL OF YOU
It was a quiet bus ride back to Chapel Hill High School, but at least it was a short one. Everyone was on their phones, or watching the traffic go by, or leaning against the windows with their eyes closed and their bags as pillows.
I sat toward the back, watching Chip as he stared out the window.
Something had happened.
Something I’d hoped for. Something I’d never actually expected.
What was I supposed to do now? What was I supposed to say?