only give Dre more time to wind himself up. So, I finally tapped the icon.
DreOfTheDead: wild debate huh
DreOfTheDead: so who was your date???
DreOfTheDead: was the guy your friend tamal you told me about
DreOfTheDead: youre not dating that girl right?
DreOfTheDead: of course youre not
DreOfTheDead: unless you are
DreOfTheDead: dont worry about me being upset
DreOfTheDead: i never expected anything from you
DreOfTheDead: okay?!?
DreOfTheDead: dean
DreOfTheDead: dean
DreOfTheDead: dean
DreOfTheDead: you already know I like you
DreOfTheDead: i like talking to you
DreOfTheDead: i like kissing you
DreOfTheDead: but i like being your friend most of all
DreOfTheDead: so whatever else we’ll always be friends
DreOfTheDead: pinkie promise
DreOfTheDead: sweet dreams
Below the last message was a picture of Dre lying with his head on the pillow. His hair spread out and his eyes half-closed. Beautiful.
DreOfTheDead: ps, she was pretty but i’m prettier
DreOfTheDead: xoxo
Dre didn’t hate me. My hands were trembling and my heart was racing as my anxiety turned into joy. The bathroom was filled with steam and I’d been in there so long Tamal was going to wonder what I was doing, but I had to take a moment to calm myself before I could compose a reply.
PrezMamasBoy: Hi, Dre. It’s Dean.
PrezMamasBoy: Mindy doesn’t hold a candle to you.
PrezMamasBoy: Also, I’m not her type.
PrezMamasBoy: My dreams will be sweet because they will be of you.
PrezMamasBoy: See you there.
PrezMamasBoy: ~Dean
Dre
DAD LOOKED LIKE a beaked goblin that had been living in the irradiated wastelands of Chernobyl. Or, at least, he was starting to. He sat quietly in the garage, in a battered leather recliner that Mel and I had stolen from the neighbor’s trash in the middle of the night to use for Dreadful Dressup because my mom would’ve murdered me, raised me from the dead, and then murdered me again if I’d ruined any of her furniture.
I’d been itching to do something for Dreadful Dressup, but I needed someone to put makeup on, and without Mel my choices were limited. Dad had offered himself up without me even needing to ask. He’d been subdued since the debates, defeated in a way I hadn’t seen him since he lost the Iowa caucus during the primary. That’d been a rough fight, and he’d taken the early loss pretty hard. This was different, though. It wasn’t like he was nursing his wounds; it was a bone-deep exhaustion that he couldn’t seem to shake.
“Thanks for letting me stay on with the campaign.” It was still a touchy subject with Dad, but Mom had convinced him to let me keep traveling with them until the election.
“You weren’t thrilled about leaving school during your senior year in the first place. Why do you seem so reluctant to go back now?”
“Try not to move your lips so much when you talk.” I was working on Dad’s cheeks, and I didn’t want him messing up the work I’d already done. Painting him as a post-apocalyptic bird goblin was not easy.
“Is it the same reason I’m sitting in this chair instead of Mel?”
“Yeah. We’re kinda not talking.”
“What did you do?”
“Me? Nothing!” Blending the face prosthesis was delicate work. I stood back to judge what I’d done so far. Not too bad.
Dad was watching me with that skeptical Don’t even think about lying to me look that I usually attributed to Mom. “You must’ve done something, Dre.”
I sighed. “She was pissed because I messed up some plans we’d made and she changed D and D from Sundays to Saturdays without telling me, and then she had the nerve to yell at me because I’d hung out with Dean Arnault and didn’t think he was a monster. It’s like I have no idea who she even is anymore.”
Dad was quiet for a little while, and I couldn’t read his expression under all the makeup. Finally, he said, “I feel like this is my fault.”
“What? No. It’s Mel’s fault for being such a shit.”
“Dre, how can you be upset with Mel for missing you when you’ve spent the last few months angry with me for the same reason?”
“I . . .” I wanted to tell him it was different, but it wasn’t and I knew it. I’d always known.
“You can’t expect Mel to rearrange her life to suit you any more than I could expect it of you.” Dad motioned for me to stop with the makeup and sit for a second. I pulled a stool over. “When I clinched the Democratic nomination, you were the first person I wanted to tell. Your mom barely tolerates all of this, and I know she thinks I’m going