Booked

  Yep.

  Does your so-called life involve that little hot mama from dance class?

  Huh?

  Oh, really, you’re going to play clueless.

  No, she’s just a friend.

  What’s her name?

  April.

  That’s pretty. Aren’t you too young to have a girlfriend?

  I don’t have a girlfriend. Plus, I’m almost thirteen.

  You’re still my Little Nicky.

  Whatever, Mom. Let’s finish playing.

  Yeah, you can use the practice.

  I’m good, actually. I scored two goals in my last game. You’d know that if you were here.

  I heard that.

  . . .

  Are you giving your father a hard time?

  He’s a jerk.

  Be careful—he’s your father. And since when is making you do your chores being a jerk?

  So you two are talking again?

  Nicky, he’s doing what he thinks is best for you.

  Making me read the dictionary is best for him, not me.

  Your father loves you and he’s—

  Blah blah blah.

  Don’t make me hurt you, boy.

  Can we just play, please?

  So we’re okay?

  Yeah, as long as you stop tripping me. That’s the only way you scored.

  You’re the one trippin’. That was no foul.

  Maybe not when you played in the olden times.

  If only your defense was as good as your jokes.

  How long are you staying?

  A few days, but I’ll be back in two weeks.

  You should come to my game this weekend. We’re playing in New York, against the number one ranked team in the country.

  About that, Nick.

  It’s only New York, Mom. We have a ton of chaperones.

  I’m afraid you won’t be going to New York with the team.

  You’re gonna drive me?

  Your father and I have decided you won’t be playing this weekend. I’m sorry.

  WHAT?! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!

  And Just Like That, Things Are Out of Control Again

  You try everything. Coach

  even calls Mom to beg her.

  But, again, you have no rights.

  Dressed in camouflage sneaks

  and an army green long sleeved

  FREADOM tee,

  The Mac sees you

  walk in the library

  and hollers

  (right in front of

  everyfreakinbody):

  IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR APRIL FARROW,

  YOU’RE OUT OF LUCK.

  NO BOOK CLUB TODAY, PELÉ.

  Then he winks at you, laughs,

  goes back to shelving books

  and eating his sandwich.

  Conversation with The Mac

  Cowboys fan? he asks, sneaking up while you’re on the computer. I saw you Googling Dallas.

  I’m going to the Dr. Pepper Dallas Cup. My soccer team got invited to play.

  This weekend?

  In three weeks. This weekend blows.

  The weekend’s not even here yet. Think positive.

  I had a soccer tournament in New York, but my parents said I can’t go.

  Sorry to hear that, Pelé.

  Why do parents suck?

  Try a different word.

  My bad, Mr. Mac. Why do GUARDIANS suck!

  Ha! Ha! Who your parents are now is not who they were or who they will be. You may not like them now, but you will.

  Doubt it!

  You get one chance to love, to be loved, Nick. If you’re lucky, maybe two.

  It’s just hard to love someone who cancels the cable right before the Walking Dead marathon.

  Shrink

  Instead of

  playing soccer

  in the Big Apple,

  today

  you’re sitting

  in the Center for Relational Recovery

  on a pleather couch

  between Mom and Dad,

  staring at a quote by

  a man named Freud

  on the wall

  behind a,

  get this,

  psychologist

  with a black and white beard longer

  than Santa Claus’s,

  a red pencil in his mouth,

  and a tendency to ask stupid questions:

  What else besides soccer makes you happy?

  How do you feel when you’re sad?

  Do you miss your mom?

  All because your bike

  got stolen

  and you lost

  your cool

  one night

  and then

  posted

  that you needed

  someone

  to intervene

  between you

  and the monsters

  and your cousin Julie

  told your aunt

  who called your dad

  who texted Mom

  who drove all night

  and scheduled

  an appointment

  with St. Nick

  who thinks your post

  was a cry for help

  when actually

  you were just listening

  to Eminem

  and thought

  the song was

  kinda nice.

  You miss

  cinnamon French toast with blueberry preserves

  homemade lunches

  her headlocks and sloppy kisses

  her saying sugar balls when she’s pissed

  her cheering at matches

  Ping-Pong late Saturday nights

  clean clothes on Sunday

  double fudge milkshakes after church

  dinner with real plates and glasses

  her bad horse jokes at the table

  both of them holding hands watching TV

  family meetings

  and, yes,

  you even miss the group hug after family meetings

  but, no,

  neither your mom nor dad

  is a monster

  and you don’t need

  an interventionist.

  When Mom Starts Crying, Dad Takes Her Out, Leaving You Alone with the Shrink

  Camouflaging your fears doesn’t make them go away, Nicholas.

  I’m afraid, okay. Now what?!

  Now we try to figure out what to do.

  I know what to do. I need to learn how to fight.

  You think you need to learn how to fight?

  Why are you repeating everything?

  There are ways to deal with bullies.

  Like what?

  What do you think are some of the ways?

  I guess if I knew that I wouldn’t be here.

  Why don’t you think about some ways to deal, and when you come back for the next session, we can—

  Wait, I’m coming back?

  Doctor Fraud

  We have five more minutes

  remaining, Nicholas.

  Is there anything

  you’d like to say

  to your parents?

  Other than

  it kinda blows

  that I’m here

  instead of playing

  in the soccer tournament,

  I’m good.

  . . .

  Really, I’m fine.

  The twins aren’t coming back

  to school this year,

  and I didn’t really mean

  I wanted to be dead.

  I just . . . I just think . . . I guess

  I was mad, and if

  they don’t love each other

  anymore, then

  they shouldn’t be together.

  You only get one chance

  to love,

  to be loved.

  And they lost theirs.

  I get it.

  Of course we still love each other, Dad says.

  We just can’t be together, Mom adds.
>
  Let’s explore that, says Dr. Santa. What do you think about what your parents are saying, Nicholas?

  I think being an adult

  must be confusing

  as hell.

  Also, I’m starving.

  Are we done?

  Chimichangas

  The silence

  at dinner

  is only interrupted

  by the chomping

  of chips and salsa

  at what used to be

  our favorite family

  restaurant.

  How Did We Get Here?

  On second thought,

  there is something

  you’d like to ask

  your parents.

  According to a brochure

  in Dr. Fraud’s office,

  adultery is the leading cause

  of divorce among Americans.

  Principal Miller would agree.

  His wife got caught kissing

  a man who wasn’t Principal Miller.

  Splitsville.

  Your Uncle Jerry quit his job

  and your Aunt Janice found out

  when her brand-new Lexus got

  repossessed. Separated.

  Coby’s dad and mom

  never got divorced

  because they were never

  married.

  But you still don’t know

  what happened.

  So right after

  the first bite of enchilada

  you say: Dad, did you cheat

  on Mom or something?

  Beads of sweat cling to his bald head.

  Mom stops chewing and gulps.

  But before either can answer,

  guess who walks up

  in a T-shirt that says:

  I Like Big BOOKS and I Cannot Lie?

  Introductions

  Mom and Dad,

  this is Mr. MacDonald,

  our librarian.

  Dad stands up,

  shakes his hand, and

  The Mac, in,

  get this,

  red, white, and blue

  bowling shoes,

  kisses Mom’s hand.

  Dad kinda frowns.

  Nice to meet you two, finally.

  Sorry for the sweaty palms.

  Happens after bowling.

  Mom slips her hand in her lap (where her napkin is).

  Your son talks

  about you all the time.

  I hope nice things, Mom says.

  Actually, he kinda wants

  you to take it easy on him.

  Life ain’t been no crystal stair

  for young Nicholas here, he adds.

  The silence is thick

  and super uncomfortable.

  I’m just kidding, The Mac says,

  and then

  breaks out into

  a way-too-loud chuckle.

  Well, I should get back

  to my lady friend. Just

  wanted to say hello.

  Nick, they’re a lot cooler

  than you said, he pretend-whispers to you.

  Well, it’s our pleasure,

  Mr. MacDonald, Mom says.

  Oh, one more thing, Nick.

  Did you finish that Pelé book yet?

  You lie and say yeah,

  ’cause the last thing

  you need is he and Dad

  ganging up on you

  over a book

  that’s never

  gonna get read.

  He turns to leave, and

  your mouth hits

  the table

  when you see

  The Mac’s lady friend

  in red heels

  waving

  from across

  the room is

  Ms. Hardwick.

  Yuck.

  Alarm Clock

  Mom, I overslept, can you

  drive me to school, please? It’s

  too late to take the bus. Sure.

  Cool?

  How’d you get to school?

  My mom.

  She’s back?

  She was. But she’s gone again.

  Why didn’t you call me?

  I overslept.

  Dude, you never oversleep.

  I just wanted to see my mom a little longer.

  Yeah, whatever.

  You want to come over after school?

  Don’t you have practice tonight?

  We’re just running today. Coach says we’re ready.

  Ready to get demolished like an old apartment building?

  We’ll see.

  You see what April has on today? Whoa! Be bold, Nick!

  Yeah, I should.

  Be bold or go home.

  I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna wear cool today.

  Huh?

  No more corduroys and turtlenecks for Nick Hall.

  What are you talking about, Nick?

  At lunch, I’m asking April to be my girlfriend.

  Yeah, right!

  Seriously, I am.

  What are you gonna say?

  Uh, will you be my girlfriend?

  That’s corny. Be cool with it.

  How would you know? You’ve never done this before.

  You either.

  My dad gave my mom flowers once.

  You gonna give her flowers?

  I could, there’s some yellow ones in the library.

  Those are fake, bro.

  Oh! Yeah, you right. Maybe I’m rushing it. She may not even like me.

  Didn’t she already tell you SHE LIKES YOU?

  I’m just saying, maybe she doesn’t like me anymore.

  Don’t chicken out.

  I almost forgot, we have a sub today.

  Where’s Hardwick?

  All the English teachers are in a meeting today.

  Cool, we can play blackjack.

  DANG!

  What?

  I forgot to brush my teeth today.

  So.

  I can’t talk to April today, like this.

  I got some gum in my locker.

  I’ll just wait.

  What happened to no more corduroys, chicken?

  I’ll wear jeans on Monday.

  Brawkk-AWK! CLUCK CLUCK!

  Not Cool

  At lunch she walks by, smiles. HEY,

  APRIL, Coby yells. NICK HAS

  SOMETHING HE WANTS TO TELL YOU!

  Bad

  Don’t know if it’s

  the fish nuggets

  you ate,

  Charlene’s perfume,

  the egg sandwich

  someone’s eating behind you,

  or Coby’s leftovers.

  Whatever it is

  sends you

  running

  out of the cafeteria

  just as the volcano

  of butterflies

  in your belly

  E R U P T S.

  After Soccer Practice

  Go wash up. I ordered pizza for dinner.

  Nah.

  Pineapple pepperoni.

  Ugh.

  You’ve already eaten?

  Got a stomachache.

  Drink some ginger ale. That’ll help.

  It just hurts. I need to lie down.

  Are you in pain?

  A little.

  Come here, let me check your forehead.

  Really? C’mon, Dad, I’m not a baby.

  You’re hot, Nick.

  I just practiced for two hours, Dad. Course I’m hot. Good night.

  Maybe you ate something bad today.

  Cafeteria food is always bad. We had fish nuggets. Pretty nasty.

  I’m gonna run out and get some activated charcoal.

  Charcoal? Like for the grill?

  Go get in bed, Nick.

  G’night.

  If you’re sick, you probably shouldn’t play tomorrow.

  Oh, I’m playing in the match tomorrow.

  Nicholas—

  Dad, I’ll be
fine.

  We’ll see.

  . . .

  You wake up at four a.m.

  hungry, so you eat. Chips. Coke.

  Thank goodness that’s over. Bored,

  you even read the Pelé book.

  The Big Match

  You and Coby

  are on teams

  that like each other

  as much as crocs

  and Kenyan wildebeests.

  There’s always

  a skirmish

  during

  the matchup.

  There’s no beef

  between you and Coby,

  but you WILL go hard,

  come with your A game,

  ’cause while winning

  is wicked,

  bragging about winning

  is icing

  on the steak.

  Game On

  You good, Nick? Coby asks

  at midfield

  for the coin flip.

  Good enough to beat

  your sorry team, you answer.

  Not gonna happen!

  Pernell,