Being Henry David - By Cal Armistead Page 0,49

I do very often because it’s really bad for me, but I was stupid. Had a sucky day or whatever. Anyway, I was even more stupid to try and drive myself home. I was in my own neighborhood when I took a turn too sharp, and smashed right into a tree at the end of my street. I was totally freaking out. So I went hammering on Cam’s door because I didn’t know what else to do. His parents and mine were out together at a play in the city. So he came out and saw the car. One of our neighbors had called the police, and we knew they were on their way.

“He said to tell them he was driving, but I said no, I couldn’t do that, because then he’d get in trouble. ‘Not as much as you,’ he said. And he was right. So I did it. I let him get in the car, in the driver’s seat. And when the police came, he said he’d swerved to avoid hitting a dog. The police totally bought it. But the thing is, he has a junior license, he’s not supposed to have a passenger in the car, that’s one of the rules. So his license is suspended for sixty days.”

“Well the license thing, that’s not your fault,” I say, hating that Cameron has any excuse to manipulate her. The waitress comes by and gives me a refill on my root beer, without me even having to ask.

“No, but it still comes down to this: he did me a huge favor and kept me from getting a DUI on my license, and probably having to pay a huge fine and go to driving classes. So I do owe him. To a point anyway.” Hailey’s spoon clinks against glass as she scoops up the last few spoonfuls of melted ice cream.

“I don’t know. It sounds like he’s totally taking advantage of the situation.”

“No doubt about that. Anyway, let’s not talk about this anymore.” With a flourish, she takes the last bite of her sundae and then licks her lips. She has no idea what this does to me. Or maybe she does and just wants to torture me a little. I fight the urge to grab her, right here in this booth, and kiss the last traces of whipped cream off her lips.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride back to your uncle’s house,” she says.

“My uncle?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you say that’s where you’re staying?” She looks at me for a minute like I’m a bug under a microscope. “Seriously, sometimes I feel like I don’t know anything about you, Hank. Mr. Mysterious. Who the hell are you anyway?”

“I have no idea,” I say, flashing a charming smile to show her I’m kidding. “It’s just that, uh, he’s more like a friend of the family than an actual relative. I just call him uncle. Uncle Thomas.”

“Is he your teacher, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“For homeschooling. Does he teach you?”

“Oh.” I clear my throat, shuffle my feet under the table. “No, I do it myself. On the computer and stuff. That’s how it works.” God, I hope that’s how it works.

She squints at me, but then shrugs, like she’s accepted my explanation. Whew.

“By the way, I told Ms. Coleman your situation, with the homeschooling and all, to make sure it’s okay for you to be in the Battle of the Bands. I didn’t want them kicking you out at the last minute or anything.”

My stomach drops. “And?”

“And she said it was okay. She’s cool like that. Plus, she really likes you.”

Whew, again. “Good.”

To celebrate these small victories and also because I can’t hold back any longer, I kiss her. And she tastes delicious, like strawberries and whipped cream and Hailey.

Letting myself get lost in the moment, the knot in my gut relaxes. Hailey makes me feel like I’m worth something and that I’m safe here. Surely here in this good place with this amazing girl, nothing bad could happen and nobody could hurt me. Not even Magpie. I want to believe this, so bad. And so for the moment, I do.

Riding on the back of Thomas’s motorcycle on the way to the library the next morning, there’s this comfortable hum in my chest. The air is getting warmer and smells like black dirt and new grass. I have a great place to stay with Thomas. I’m making music with Hailey and falling for her more every day. Concord is a nice town, and