Yet a Stranger (The First Quarto #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,13

girls, we had to go on scholarship. We had to work hard enough to make the right team. We had to work our asses off to get a chance. Not baby Peepee.”

Orlando’s face, if anything, got redder.

“What’s that like, Peepee?”

“Maybe you should wait outside,” Auggie said to Orlando.

Orlando shook his head.

“Could I use your bathroom?” Theo asked.

Wayne waved at the hall, and Theo moved out of sight. A door clicked shut.

“Pretty sweet life, huh?” Wayne said, and then, faster than Auggie could believe, he slapped Orlando’s stomach. Orlando let out a grunt and stumbled back, both hands pressed over his abdomen. His face was white.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Auggie said, putting an arm around Orlando. He could feel Orlando shaking. “He’s still healing.”

“What a fucking crybaby. This is why you’re going to take a year off? Because your tummy hurts?”

“He got stabbed, you dumb fuck,” Auggie said.

“You know why we call him Peepee? I bet he didn’t tell you that story.”

“Wayne, come on,” Orlando said, but he was still trembling, and he was still holding his stomach.

“Sit down,” Auggie said.

Orlando just shook his head.

“He was, I don’t know, three or four. Mom and Dad were having a dinner party. The Joneses were there, remember?”

Orlando stared blankly.

“And he comes out of his room in his pullups, you know, what kids wear so they don’t piss the bed, only he’s got them around his knees, and he’s saying, ‘Look at my peepee, look at my peepee.’”

Orlando swallowed. His eyes were shining, and he blinked rapidly. “You’re such an asshole.”

Wayne burst out laughing, but the laughter ended almost as abruptly as it had begun. Then all the energy seemed to drain out of him, and he lay back in the recliner, his eyes half closed. His breathing evened out.

“So you can’t tell us anything?” Auggie said. “You didn’t talk to Cal all weekend? You didn’t text? Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Wayne said. “I saw him Friday night. I left. When I came back Sunday night, he wasn’t here. Monday morning, he still wasn’t here. That’s when I started texting. We looked all the usual places.”

“Where?”

“Flaherty’s, Saint Taffy’s, Meramec Maniacs. There’s a girl he hooks up with sometimes. Jessie something. Then I noticed stuff was missing.”

“What stuff?”

“Collector’s items. Autographed bats, limited-edition jerseys, a puck from Game 3 of the 2008 Stanley Cup. Probably more, I just haven’t noticed it’s missing yet.”

“Somebody broke in and stole your stuff? And you didn’t report that to the police?”

Wayne grunted. “Nobody broke in. Cal took it. He sells it, and then he scores, and then he’s on a bender. Notice he didn’t touch any of his own shit.” He gestured at the framed baseball card.

Theo came back, and when Auggie shot him a look, he gave a discreet shake of his head.

“Is that all?” Wayne said. “Because I want another fucking beer.”

Orlando turned toward the kitchen, but Auggie caught his arm and steered Orlando to the door.

“Get it yourself,” Auggie said as they left.

8

Theo followed Auggie and Orlando down to the parking lot. The August day was boiling hot, the air shimmering over the asphalt, and sweat broke out on Theo’s face and back. The smell of hot tar came in on each breath. Theo felt dizzy from it.

Auggie kept his hand on Orlando’s arm, and when they got to the car, he gestured to his stomach and said, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah. It just hurt.”

“You don’t think you need to see a doctor?”

“He didn’t hit me that hard. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a monster. Come on, I want you to meet the rest of my family.”

“Maybe we should drop you off at Sigma Sigma,” Theo said.

Auggie glanced over, his expression impossible to read.

“No,” Orlando said. “I want to be there.”

Auggie was still looking at Theo.

“Orlando,” Auggie said slowly, “it might be easier to ask them some questions if you’re not there.”

“No,” Orlando said. “I’m going with you. Can we please go? It’s hot, and it smells like ass out here.”

So they got in the car, and Auggie followed Orlando’s directions out of town.

“Could you turn up the A/C?” Theo asked.

“It’s all the way up,” Auggie said.

“Of course it is.”

Theo had meant it as a joke, but Auggie glared at him in the rearview mirror.

They were driving past block after block of tiny frame houses, most of the houses with chain-link fencing, all of them with steel mailboxes that had wonky numbers running along the side. In one yard, some sort of terrier mix was chained up.