The bell rang, and Ms. Boden took charge.
“Okay, listen up. There’s a bowl of wallpaper paste and precut strips of newspaper on every table. I want you to work from the sketches you made last week, and you can either use a balloon for the form, or you can make a form with bunched-up newspaper and tape. By the end of the period, I want to see a mask starting to take shape. Papier-mâché is super messy, so put on your art shirts. Let’s get to work.”
Kids started talking and bustling around, getting their smocks and sketches from the cubbies at the back of the room, picking up rolls of tape and stacks of newspaper, moving to their assigned tables.
Alec shuffled from point to point around the room—picking things up, putting them down, buttoning his long shirt, finding his table, and sitting on a stool. But he felt like his body and his mind were in different time zones.
He replayed what he’d just said to Kent about Nina.
“…together? Us? No…no!”
That was true—there was no question about that.
But saying it like that, right out loud? And to Kent? It felt bad.
Though, really…what else could he have said?
Who—Nina? And me? We’re not anything, not really—at least, not yet. But still, I’d appreciate it if you would just disappear for about two years, or maybe move to France…or Venus.
“Okay, Alec, time to get busy. That mask won’t make itself.”
“Oh—right,” Alec said.
Ms. Boden moved on, and Alec tried to focus—and he really had to. On Friday, Ms. Boden was going to have to give him at least an eight out of ten for the week, just like all his other teachers, or else it was off to the Homework Room. Because that was the deal with his mom and dad.
He had sketched out a mask based on an illustration from Treasure Island—a craggy pirate with an eye patch, a gold earring, and a big grin with missing teeth, all topped by a tricornered hat marked with a bold skull and crossbones.
Alec suddenly wished his mask was finished so he could strap it on, grab a cutlass, and step over and challenge Kent to a sword fight.
And that thought shocked him.
First of all, Nina wasn’t some kind of a prize to win—she was going to do exactly what she wanted to, no matter what.
And this idea of fighting Kent? That was a perfect way to have about ten different disasters all at once.
I’d have to be completely crazy to even think about that!
Alec dipped a long strip of newspaper into the gooey paste, then smoothed it into place. He took a deep breath and then he did it again—and again.
By the time he had added ten strips of paper to his mask, Alec felt a little better. And he decided that he wasn’t completely crazy—just half crazy.
By the time he got to his table in the gym that Wednesday afternoon, Alec was feeling much better about life, about himself, and about Nina. He was even feeling better about Kent.
For one thing, he felt sure that Kent did not think he was a loser. A bookworm, yes, but not a loser—not at all. Otherwise, why would Kent have talked to him about Nina like that before art class?
No, Kent didn’t think he was a loser. Kent clearly thought he was more like a rival, a possible contender. Which made Alec feel pretty good.
This rush of cheerful feelings turned out to be temporary.
Because just then Alec saw Nina as she walked into the gym, and he saw Kent trot over to say hi to her, and he watched as Kent walked Nina partway across the gym.
“Alec, is this a good book?” Lily held up a copy of Holes.
“Yeah, it’s great,” he said.
Lily wanted to talk more, but Alec turned back to Nina and Kent.
They had stopped near the middle of the floor, talking. And then Nina turned and kept walking toward Alec, a big smile on her face.
Kent stood there, and when he saw Alec at the table, he grinned and gave him a double thumbs-up before turning around and running over to begin his daily kickball massacre.
As Nina got closer and closer, Alec realized that he had a big problem—a new one.
This morning he had told Kent that there wasn’t anything going on between him and Nina. Which was true…as far as anybody else knew.
But the way Kent had shot that double thumbs-up at him just now?
So, does he think that now I’m his assistant or something? That I’m going to help him make a “move” on Nina?
“Hi, Alec.”
“Hi.”
Nina dropped her backpack and sat in her regular spot. She said, “You have any extra snacks? I forgot to pick up something at lunch, and I’m starving!”
“No problem—I’ve got plenty.” Alec reached for his backpack and peered inside. His mom had started sneaking in some healthier food.
“Do you want a bag of Cheetos, or a raisins-and-oats-and-honey energy bar? I’ve got juice, too—Hawaiian Punch and grape.”
“Um, which do you want?” she asked.
He smiled. “Doesn’t matter. You pick first.”
She said, “Then I’ll have the energy bar and the Hawaiian Punch—thanks.”
He slid the food down the table to her, and she instantly peeled back the wrapper and bit off half the granola bar, chewing while she stuck the straw into the top of the drink box.
After a gulp of punch, she said, “You’ll never guess what just happened! When I walked in, Kent came running over, and the first thing he said was ‘How come you avoided me all day?’ Because I did—I didn’t say a word to him, and whenever I saw him coming, I went the other way. And last night, too, ’cause he’s always coming by now to hang out with Richie. And he also tried to call me, and I wouldn’t answer.”
She took another bite, a smaller one, and kept talking as she chewed. “So I said, ‘Well, I thought it was mean the way you kept trying to bomb our table yesterday, and then I ruined the ball, which was also kind of mean, and I just didn’t want to talk to you.’ Because I didn’t—you know?”
Alec nodded. “Right—I get that.”
Nina said, “So then he said, ‘But I wasn’t mad at all—I thought it was awesome how you did that, like you were a warrior princess and that pencil was your sword!’ That’s what he said! Me, a warrior princess! Isn’t that hilarious?”
Alec had a hard time making his face look pleasant.
“Yeah—hilarious.”
That’s what Alec said, and he said it politely.
But inside his head? He was shouting.
Kent stole that idea from me, and I wasn’t being funny! Warrior princess is a title of…of respect and honor—not some cheesy line you use to score points with a girl!
In the back of his mind, Alec heard that familiar whump of a big kick from the far corner, then the sudden cheer as Kent took off around the bases.
Nina turned to watch Kent, and she smiled.
Alec watched, too.
But the look on his face? No one would have called it a smile.
Alec rode his bicycle along Ash Street as night was falling on a chilly Friday evening in September. He had passed Kent’s house, and he was halfway down the next block. Four more blocks and one left turn, and he would be almost at Nina’s driveway.
And then what happens?
That part wasn’t totally clear, and Alec felt like he should probably slam on the brakes, turn his bike around, and pedal back home as fast as he could.
But he kept going.
—
This plan had hatched right after dinner. It was Friday night, and a good one, too—he had gotten all nines and tens on his first end-of-week report card, so he was safe from the Homework Dungeon for another week. But Alec hadn’t felt like watching a movie with everyone else in the family room, so he had walked upstairs and flopped onto his bed and started to read, just as he’d done a thousand times before.
But tonight he couldn’t get a certain conversation out of his mind, a conversation he almost wished he hadn’t overheard. But he had overheard it—because he had
listened to it on purpose.
That had been earlier in the day, right at the start of Extended Day. He had stopped at the door of the gym to double-check with Mrs. Case about the open house in October because he was starting to worry about that. He had told Nina he was going to take care of the whole thing, and it was a promise he really wanted to keep.
Mrs. Case had been relieved that he was finally taking the open house seriously. “As I already mentioned, the principal asked if we could talk about Extended Day right before the refreshments at the end of the regular open house, so our presentations probably won’t start till about eight o’clock. I’m thinking somewhere between four and five hundred kids and parents and teachers will be here in the gym. Mrs. Vance said she’s planning on refreshments for five hundred and fifty, just in case. It’s going to be quite an event!”
Mrs. Case confirmed that the open house was October 20, then added, “…which is still more than a month away, so that’s good. But the basic guidelines haven’t changed, and you can find them on page thirty of the information booklet—here’s my copy. Just put it back on my table when you’re done with it.”
Alec had been about to say “No thanks,” but off to his left, he heard Nina’s voice in the hallway, and then Kent’s.
So he had opened Mrs. Case’s program booklet, stuck his nose in it, and pretended to read—as he listened with all his might.
“Yeah, so I’m coming over to shoot some hoops tonight—you gonna be around?” As usual, Kent had sounded very cool, very smooth.
“Probably,” said Nina. “Richie said some guys might show up tonight—he’s hoping for a game.”
There was a smile in Kent’s voice. “So, how about after the game, maybe you and me work on your shooting some more—I think you could probably get onto the girls’ b-ball team at the middle school next year.”
“Really?”
Alec could tell Nina had loved that idea—and Kent knew it, too.
“No kidding! You’ve got natural talent. If you worked hard, maybe by high school you could even be a starter. I can’t wait for next year! Seventh grade is when sports really start to matter, y’know? Basketball, soccer, baseball—I want to do everything. It’s gonna be awesome!”
The way Kent had turned the conversation back to a celebration of his own wonderfulness made Alec groan, but Nina hadn’t seemed to notice.
She’d said, “So, yeah, I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
“Great. Catch you later.”
And that had been the end of Alec’s eavesdropping.
But sitting near Nina at their table for the rest of Friday afternoon, all he had been able to think about was Nina and Kent…playing basketball in the moonlight. He knew it was a silly image, but he couldn’t get it out of his head.
So—what? Am I just going to sit around and read adventure stories tonight?
That’s the first question Alec had asked himself as he lay on his bed thinking about all this after dinner. But he hadn’t stopped there. He had kept on asking himself questions.
I’ve read all these books about these amazing heroes who do incredible things—people who fight for honor and glory and patriotism…and love. So—what about me? Do I just sit around while Kent grabs all the attention?
And then one last thought sealed the deal and got him up off his bed and out the door: Well, if Kent can just ride over to Nina’s house anytime he feels like it, then I can, too!
—
When Alec wheeled around the corner onto Hardy Avenue, right away he could hear a basketball bouncing and guys calling to each other. And he saw the bright lights of the court from three houses away.
As he came even with the driveway, Alec saw that the backboard was mounted on the garage roof—a two-car garage, off to the side and set back from the front of the house. It was a nice wide court, and the three-point arc and a free-throw line had been painted onto the asphalt. A row of floodlights mounted on the side of the house threw out lots of light.
There were four guys, a two-on-two game. Kent was teamed up with a kid a little taller than he was, but the other boy had narrower shoulders and a slimmer build. One look at that kid when the light was right, and Alec was sure it was Nina’s brother, Richie. He knew Nina’s face by heart, and this boy’s eyes and chin looked just like hers.
The other two guys weren’t athletes—Alec saw that right away. The one with blond hair was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, and his shoes were all wrong for basketball. But he could shoot pretty well from in close, so he just kept backing up toward the basket, using muscle instead of skill, and then he’d turn and try for the short shot.
The blond guy mostly ignored his teammate. He was a little shorter, with a mop of dark hair and a wide face. Alec could hear him panting, and he kept calling, “I’m open over here, I’m open!” He had his hoodie zipped up, and he was sweating like crazy, his face flushed and splotchy.
Kent fit right in, even though he was obviously the youngest kid out there. Whenever he got the ball, he was fierce, and he had great moves and ball-handling skills. He could drive straight to the hoop and lay it up, or he could work the edges and feed perfect passes to Richie. Alec wasn’t really a basketball fan, but he had a great book about LeBron James and another one about Steph Curry. He understood a lot more about the game than he could ever try to do.
Alec stood there straddling his bike on the sidewalk at the end of the driveway, but it had gotten pretty dark and he was beyond the lights on the court—the players inside that brightness didn’t notice him. He watched for a few minutes, but then the blond kid batted a pass away toward the street, and as Kent chased it, he almost fell over Alec’s bike.
“Whoa, sorry—didn’t see you!”
Then Kent blinked, and he saw who it was.
A big grin spread across his face. He got the ball, then grabbed the handlebar of Alec’s bike and pulled it forward about ten feet onto the lit part of the driveway—and Alec had no choice but to stumble along forward with his bike.
“Hey, guys, check it out! This is my old buddy, Alec the bookworm. Looks like his mommy let him come out and play tonight, because he’s usually tucked in with his blankie and his bedtime story by now, right, Alec?”
Alec was surprised at the sharpness of the teasing. Kent had seemed almost friendly the past few days. Right away he realized that Kent was showing off for his older friends—but knowing that didn’t make him any less angry.
He stepped off his bike, and Kent tossed it to the driveway, hard.
Alec’s hands clamped into fists, his stomach tightened, his breathing got shallow. He had a coppery taste in his mouth as he ripped off his helmet and dropped it to the ground. The rear tire on his bike was slowly spinning, and Alec stepped around it and looked Kent in the eye. He had never had a fight before, not a real one. Not until now.
As Alec came another step closer, Kent stopped grinning and took a quick step back. Kent had been in a fight once, and he could see what was coming.
Alec felt like a strange light was glowing all around them, and Kent’s face lit up like a Halloween mask, with long shadows stretching off behind him, and he—
“Hey, Alec! Hi! How come you didn’t tell me you were coming over? Did you just get here?”
Alec spun around and saw Nina. She slammed the back door of a car and trotted over next to him, all smiles. Alec saw two other people in the front seats—her mom and dad.
Alec turned for a quick look at Kent, and when the car headlights turned off, the weird shadows around him went away.
Richie walked over and said, “Hi, Alec. Nina told me about you two starting that club—nice to meet you.”
“Thanks,” Alec said, “good to meet you, too.” Richie had a friendly smile, and Alec liked him right away.
Nina said, “So, can you come inside—or did you come to play basketball?”
“Yeah,” Kent said, “how about we shoot a game of HORSE, or maybe a game of BOOKWORM—which is more fun because it’s a longer w
ord so you won’t lose quite as fast.”
Alec bent down to get his helmet, pulled it on, and then picked up his bike.
He completely ignored Kent and spoke only to Nina. “Thanks, but I was just riding by and stopped to say hi. I should head home before it gets totally dark. So, I’ll see you Monday.”
“Okay,” she said, “see you Monday.”
Alec thought she seemed disappointed, but he shoved off anyway.
It was a slow ride home. Alec barely saw the street, hardly noticed as he pedaled and braked and rounded the corners.
And as he turned into his driveway and walked his bike to the garage, he realized something.
All that stuff he’d said to himself back in his bedroom? About him stepping up to go fight for honor and glory and love? All that stuff was nothing but fiction. It was like he had started writing it out in his head, a chapter in his very own adventure novel, with him playing the hero—and then he had set off on his bicycle to act it out!
He hadn’t told his parents he was leaving, so he crept into the house and then tiptoed upstairs to his room. When he had the door shut, he flopped back onto his bed and reviewed it again—the whole make-believe mess.
But as he lay there, he held up his hands and looked at them. He clenched them into fists and remembered exactly how he had felt when Kent had thrown his bike onto the ground. He remembered exactly how the bike’s back wheel had made this little tick, tick, tick as it slowly turned. And he remembered exactly how his feet had felt as he had stepped around his bike and then looked Kent right in the eye.
Three moments of perfect clarity, complete in every detail.
His trip to Nina’s house had definitely started out like fiction, almost like a dream—but then he had actually done things, and as he did them, he became the owner of a collection of interlocking moments, moments that belonged only to him. And those moments were not fiction.
On that Friday night, Alec didn’t read, didn’t even think about books for at least half an hour—a long time for him.
He lay there quietly on his bed, thinking about his life, all of it.