work out some kind of plan. I was about to ask what was going on when JaKory took Daveon’s hand and led him toward the back side of the truck.
“So,” Maritza said, snapping the rest of us to attention, “how about we move over this way?”
The remaining six of us moved farther into the parking lot, forming a kind of protective barrier between the truck and the rest of the world. When I glanced around the truck bed, I could just see JaKory standing in the grass, his head close to Daveon’s.
Leave it to Maritza to make sure JaKory got his kiss.
It was another ten minutes before Kara checked her watch and said they should get going. Reluctantly, we backed toward the car, none of us eager to make JaKory and Daveon say goodbye. Ricky stepped up and knocked gently on the hood of the truck.
JaKory lumbered back toward us, pulling Daveon behind him, their expressions sad and resistant.
Everyone said their goodbyes. I hugged Kara and Julian and gave an extra-long hug to Daveon. Finally, it was just JaKory and Daveon who had to say goodbye. They hugged each other hard while the rest of us examined the asphalt.
Our cars left the parking lot together, ours in the lead and the others’ right behind it. JaKory kept his eyes on their car until it disappeared onto the opposite interstate. We were all very quiet.
“Well?” Maritza said finally.
“Well what?” JaKory said.
My brother whipped his head around. “Well, how was it?” he asked, and we all laughed.
JaKory shook his head and leaned against the window. He was smiling like I’d never seen before.
“Perfect,” he said. “He was perfect.”
* * *
We drove east into the gradually lightening sky, with only a handful of other cars on the interstate. The windows were down and the air rushed over my hair, strands of it catching on my eyelashes. The music was playing just loud enough to know it was there, but too softly to know the song.
We got back to our northern corner of Atlanta just as the sun was creeping up. We dropped JaKory off first, waving him out of Ricky’s car in a daze. He stood in his driveway with the early-morning light coming over his face, and I didn’t know whether it was my perception or not, but he looked like he was holding himself taller.
Maritza hesitated when we got to her house. She opened the door to get out but pulled back at the last minute and put her hand on Ricky’s arm.
“Thanks for everything,” she told him. “You’re almost as good a driver as me.”
Ricky laughed and squeezed her hand. “Bye, Maritza. I’ll come watch you dance sometime!”
I followed her out of the car. We lingered in the driveway, exchanging a knowing look, and then I hugged her. She hugged me back, and when she pulled away, her eyes were wet. Neither one of us said anything about it.
Then it was only Ricky, Grant, and me on the quiet drive back to our neighborhood, with the light growing stronger and the birds waking up. Ricky rolled his truck to a gentle stop in front of our house just as the sprinklers began to spritz spritz spritz on the neighbors’ lawn. Grant made a show of shaking Ricky’s hand, then got out of the truck and waited for me in the driveway.
“Will you be able to catch any sleep before church?” I asked Ricky.
“Not much,” he said tiredly. “But it was worth it.”
I wanted to say many things to him then—things that had grown inside me over the last two months as I’d gotten to know him and his world better—but I knew those things weren’t necessary to say aloud. Instead I looked at my friend and gave him a tired smile.
“Feel like a dumbass teenager?” he said.
“Something like that.”
“’Night, Codi.”
“’Night, Ricky.”
I followed my brother down the driveway and around to the basement. We slipped into the house and up to our rooms, and he gave me a single wave before he shut himself behind his door.
I put on my pajamas, crawled into bed, and fell asleep to the birds singing.
21
TWO WEEKS LATER
The last day of summer burned hot like only August can. By ten A.M., it was scorching outside, the sun so fierce that even walking to the mailbox was a chore. The trees and flowers were past the point of bloom and had crossed over to the first stages of wilting and withering.