Crash
He jumps right on top of me. “Wake up, sleepy head! It’s the first day of school,” he says right into my ear.
I reach behind him and lift him up. He squeals. I throw him back down on the bed and get on top of him.
“I’m up,” I yell. He just giggles. Eight year olds; I swear, they’re just too damn happy.
“Alright boys, settle down.” My mom comes out of the bathroom and ruffles her hair in the mirror. “You’ll wake up the neighbors.”
“Sorry Mom,” we both mumble.
“Davie, get up and put your shoes on.” She snaps her fingers at my brother. “And finish your cereal.”
“Okay!” He hops off the bed and puts on his new tennis shoes.
“You getting up?” Mom looks at me while she puts on her earrings.
“Do I have a choice?”
“No, Sir.” She laughs and smooths her hands over her uniform. “I’ve got to get to the diner. Can I trust you to get yourself ready and get your brother on the bus?”
“Yeah,” I assure her. “Who’s picking him up? I’ve got to go straight to work, so I won’t be here.”
“I know. Janey is going to babysit.” She turns to Davie. “Did you hear that, Davie? Miss Janey is going to be here when you get home from school today.”
“Yay!” Davie claps his hands and shovels more cereal in his mouth.
“What time do you get off work?” I ask her.
“Eight. I’m pulling a double.” She grabs her purse. “You?”
“Whenever I finish.” I shrug. “I’ll hurry, though.”
“Okay.”She nods. She runs her hand over Davie’s head and gives him a kiss. “Be good at school today, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay, Mom!” Davie waves.
“You be good too, alright?” She looks at me and smiles before leaving room 113.
We’ve been living at the Blue Dolphin Motel for the last two years, after Mom lost the house. She did her best to keep it, but her wages at the diner just weren’t enough. After my dad died, we started to struggle. We lost just about everything, except each other.
The memories of that day flood back into my head like it was just yesterday. But I was ten, and Davie was still a baby. We were driving on Concord with my dad. It was winter, and roads were icy. We were out getting wood for our woodstove. Everything was fine. My dad and I were talking, Davie was in the back squealing and laughing. All of a sudden, a car in the other lane lost control. They say things like that happen in an instant; but to me, it lasted forever. The other car jumped over the median and came straight for us. My dad tried to swerve out of the way, but he froze up. My brother screamed. So did I. My dad didn’t make any kind of sound, just put his arm in front of me and pushed me against the seat before we hit. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Then everything went black.
Dad had died instantly. They barely got Davie out of the car in time. I walked away with a few cuts and a big gash on the right side of my face. The scar runs from the corner of my eye, all the way down my cheek. When I got back to school, everyone was fascinated by it. I made up a bunch of stories and they gave me the nickname Crash. Anything is better than Winston.
Mom told me a few years later that it was a drunk driver. I never found out who it was, but it doesn’t matter. My dad is gone. And I’ll never drink a sip of alcohol as long as I live.
I shake the memories out of my head and wash my face. I don’t have time for a shower, but I scrub my face extra hard and throw on my clothes. I didn’t get anything new for school, so I put on the same jeans I’ve had since freshman year and one of my cleaner shirts. I put on my tennis shoes and pour a bowl of Fruit Loops. I sit down next to Davie and shove the cereal in my mouth.
“Hurry up,” I tell him. “The bus is gonna be here soon.”
“Okay,” he mumbles.
We sit there and eat in silence. He chews loudly and I punch him lightly every now and then.
“I love you,” I say softly.
He looks at me and smiles. “Love you too!”
He picks up his Spiderman book bag and puts on his jacket. I run my fingers over his hair and wipe the milk off of his mouth. That kid is all I’ve got. He doesn’t even know what happened. He just knows that we don’t have a dad.
“Let’s go,” I say when I’m done with my cereal. I grab my book bag too and we head outside. I lock the door to 113 and we walk to the street corner.
Cars fly past us. I gave up hoping that nobody from school recognized me years ago. People have asked me before why I wait outside the bus at the motel. I tell them that we live in the apartment complex behind it. They believe me; nobody asks anymore.
“I love school,” Davie says. He has three teeth missing; he’s got almost all of his adult teeth.
“Wait until you get to high school,” I mumble. “Then it’s not so fun.”
Davie rolls his eyes and laughs. A few minutes later, his bus stops right in front of us. I grab him by the hood of his jacket.
“You better be good, okay?”
“Okay!” He nods his head quickly.
“I’ll see you when I get off of work.” I pat his back. “Have a good day. I love you.”
“Love you, Crash!” He laughs and gets on the bus. I wave to the driver; she waves back.
Once the bus is gone, I stuff my hands in my pockets and rock back and forth on my heels. I do that when I’m nervous sometimes. I don't really know why I'm nervous; it’s just school. They say junior year is the hardest though. My counselor keeps telling me that this is the year colleges look at. Not that I’m ever going to make it that far.
My bus comes a few minutes later and I get on. Luckily, it’s not too packed. I take my usual seat near the front.
“What’s going on, Sheila?” I smile at the bus driver. She smiles back and continues down the road.
More and more people pile on with every stop. A few people say hey to me, shake my hand. Most of the people on the bus are underclassmen though. I wish I was driving like the rest of my friends. But my mom can barely afford to keep her truck running, let alone buy me a new car. I’m saving up for one, though.
I crack jokes with a few of the freshmen that I can tell are uneasy. “Don’t take it too seriously,” I encourage them. “Don’t let them see the fear.” The preps thrive on freshman fear.
When we get to Five Points, I hurry off the bus with the rest of them. It’s already pretty late; most everyone is already in their spots. I walk through the front doors, where all the freshmen are congregated. Forget what I said; I could smell the fear from outside.
The blacks and Puerto Ricans are in the back of the lobby. I don’t even bother going through the prep lobby. Everyone has their place. But I don’t really belong to any certain clique. I am a floater. I have a few friends that I hang out with, but I mostly move from one group to the next, never overstaying my welcome.
I head to the back of the school, where my ‘group’ hangs out. Dallas and Rob have been my friends since we were little. Dallas is the one who dubbed me Crash, and it stuck after that.
“What’s up fellas?”
They are leaned up against the building, watching some of the skateboarders.
Dallas shakes my hand and we hug for a second. Then I shake hands with Rob.
“What’s up, man?” Rob smiles. “Long time, no see.”
“I know.” I shrug. “Been working all summer.”
“Me too.” Dallas nods. “I didn’t realize the police station was such a busy place.”
Rob and I laugh. Dallas thinks he’s a cop, but really he spent the whole summer shoveling paperwork for his dad, who is one.
“Yeah sure,” I say sarcastically. Dallas punches me lightly.
The skaters are loud and annoying, but I ignore them. The bell rings a few minutes later and the courtyard floods with people. Everyone walks with their friends to homeroom.
“I’ll catch you guys at lunch,” I say to Dallas and Rob. We all shake hands and I follow the masses to my homeroom.
I find a seat in Mr. Burns’ classroom. For some reason, I’m in a homeroom with kids a grade ahead of me. I’m the only junior, but I’ve been in this homeroom since I was a freshman and they never fixed it. That’s Five Points for you. Ultimate chaos and disorder. Gotta love high school.
“I’m already sick of this place,” I say to the guys around me. They all laugh.
Samantha West walks in just before the bell rings. She’s looking beautiful, as always. I work for her dad at his landscaping company. I wonder if she even recognizes me.
Mr. Burns starts to read down the roll. I already know what he’s going to say my real name. I cringe as he gets closer to my name.
“Winston Law,” he says. His voice booms monotonously.
“Come on, Mister Burns.” I lean back in my chair and throw my hands up.“You know it’s Crash.”
The kids around me laugh. Mr. Burns rolls his eyes, shakes his head and keeps reading down the roster.
When he’s done, he passes out our schedules. I stare at the TV, where Ruby St. Clair is giving the announcements. It’s weird seeing her as student body president, although we all knew it would happen.
Mr. Burns hands me my card and I read over it. Junior English, German, Art, and Statistics. This schedule sucks, but I know I don’t have much of a choice. I stuff the card in my notebook and wait for the bell to ring.
“What classes you got, Crash?” Asks Damien, a friend of a friend.
“A bunch of bullshit, man.” I shake my head. “Shouldn’t be too hard though.”
“I feel you, dude.” He nods.
The bell rings and I follow my classmates out into the hall. My English class is just a few doors down. I am one of the first people in the classroom.
“Good morning,” Mrs. Eller greets me. She’s like sixty years old, but she‘s got the youth of a twenty-year old.
“Morning,” I mumble and take a seat in the back.
People start to flood in soon. Brian Phillips, one of the skaters from outside, sits beside me in the back row. A few minutes later, Evelyn Rhodes comes in and sits in front of me. Her skirt is barely there, but her breasts are definitely in attendance. This is going to be an interesting semester.
Once the bell rings, Mrs. Eller calls out the roll. Everyone is here, and she continues on with the rules of the class. I don’t know why teachers feel the need to go over the rules on every first day. The rules are always the same: no food or gum, no talking, no cell phones, do your homework, come to class on time. And nobody ever follows them. Five Points High School: also known as the biggest waste of time.
“You’re going to be working on a group project for the entire semester.” Mrs. Eller passes out a sheet of paper to all of us.
I scan the handout. Junior English Group Video Project. I scan over the sheet. Apparently we are going to have to make a film and present it at the end of the semester.
“A film about what?” I ask out loud. I didn’t mean to do that.
“Ah,” says Mrs. Eller. “That is the question. You are to get into groups of three or four, and make a video. The theme of your video is simple…” She smiles. “Life.”
A few people groan, including me. My hand shoots up, but I speak before she can call on me.
“Can’t we just read Beowulf and learn how to write haikus?” I don’t know why she’s trying to be all philosophical. It’s English.
“You could.” She nods. “But then you’d all be complaining about how boring my class was. You’d tell me it was just like all of the other English classes you’ve had. And that, ladies and gentlemen…” She looks right at me over her glasses. “Is the ultimate insult.”
I sigh and shrug. She simply continues as if nothing happened. “I will let you pick your groups,and for the remainder of the class you will discuss ideas for you Life films. Tomorrow we will talk about your first reading assignment.” She looks at me. “Beowulf will come later in the semester.” She winks. “Go.”
The room is silent for a few seconds before everyone starts moving their chairs to get into groups with their friends. I don’t have any friends in this class.
“Hey Ev,” Brian says to Evelyn. She turns around. “You wanna be in a group together?”
She licks her lips and shrugs. “Sure.”
“What about you, Crash?” Brian turns to me. “We need a third person.”
I weigh my options. Be in a group alone, or be in a group with the two biggest idiots in the class. I decide to take my chances with the group.
“Why not?”
Evelyn turns around to face us and Brian pushes his desk closer to mine. We all sit there for a few minutes without saying anything.
“So, what do you guys want to do for the project?” I finally break the silence.
Brian shrugs. “We could film every day people in their normal lives. Try to get a few different perspectives on what life is.”
“What is life?” Evelyn asks sarcastically. She rolls her eyes. “Oh this is going to be fun.”
I point to the handout. “Well, it’s thirty percent of our final grade, so we’re going to at least have to pretend it’s fun. I can’t afford to fail.”
“Me either,” Brian agrees. I know that he’s already failed once; he’s supposed to be a senior this year.
We brainstorm on ideas for our film. Our first task at hand will be finding a video camera; none of us have one. Mrs. Stephens comes around to every group and discusses the project with them. What she says goes in one ear and out the other for me. Screw Junior English.
“Alright, get your seats back in order,” she says before the bell rings. “Tomorrow we’ll start talking about your literary requirements. I hope you all have a great first day.”
The bell rings and we all flood out. I walk outside towards the main building for German. We have a five minute break in between first and second periods. Several cliques stand around outside. Brian leaves my side and heads over with his stoner friends.
“Hey Crash,” I hear a voice call me. It is Garry, a big redneck. He’s standing with his other big redneck friends. People think rednecks don’t exist in Chicago. They’re wrong.
“What’s up, Garry?” I shake his hand. “Hey guys,” I say to his other friends.
“How was your summer?” Garry stuffs his hands in his Carhart jacket. I know he’s burning up in that thing.
“It was alright.” I shrug. “Nothing too special.”
“Got any good jokes for us this year?” asks Dillon, Garry’s clone.
I sigh and think of one of the dumbest jokes I can. These guys will laugh at anything. “Alright, so there are two snowmen standing in a field,” I begin. “When all of sudden, one of them says ‘that’s funny…I smell carrots too!”
The guys crack up. I don’t even think they understand the joke, because if they did, they would realize how lame it is.
“Hey Crash.” I hear a voice behind me. It is Ruby St. Clair, the girl from the announcements. She’s the girl everyone knows. I go to her house every two weeks to trim her parent’s bushes.
“Hey, Ruby!” I wave. “I’ll be over to trim your bushes after school today. And I mean that in the most sexual way possible.” The guys crack up again.
Ruby roll her eyes.“I’ll see you after school, Crash.”
“Oh, that was a good one.” Garry slaps his knee. He literally thought that was a knee-slapper. I gotta get out of here.
“Anytime.” I shrug. “I’ll see you guys around.”
“Later, man.” Garry pats my back. Idiots.
I walk into the main building, and have to go right through the prep lobby. I see them all, glowing, practically screaming money. They are a bunch of circus freaks. Anderson Stone, my ex-best friend is the ring leader. He stands in the center, surrounded by everyone. They all worship him; this whole school does. Samantha is under his arm, smiling hard. I’d like to punch her perfect teeth out. But I’m sure her dad would fire me if I did that.
Anderson used to be legitimately cool. But that was back before his dad married some rich lady and Anderson started getting a bunch of new stuff. He was living the high life in a matter of months; and here, money is everything. When he got to Five Points, I was still stuck in the eighth grade. And by the time I got here, everything had changed.
I shake my head and walk past the circus. He doesn’t even notice me. I turn the corner and am overrun by the theater kids. I don’t know many of them, but I do know Gabe DeCarteret. A few years ago, I was at the park watching my little brother play. I turned around and Davie was gone. I freaked out, but a few minutes later, Gabe showed up. Davie was holding his hand and had an ice cream in the other. I thanked Gabe maybe a hundred times, but we still aren’t really friends. Theater isn’t my thing.
“What’s up, dude?” I ask as I pass by.
He fidgets with his shirt and nods. “Hey man.”
And that’s it. I walk past him and his friends and continue on to my classroom.
German is going to be a total drag, I can already feel it. Once the class starts, Mr. Taylor drones on and on about how great the language is. I imagine myself stuffing a German sausage in his mouth.
He waits until class is almost over to check attendance. “If you go by a name other than your first name, make sure you let me know.”
When he gets to my name, I make sure to tell him. “I go by Crash.”
He just looks at me. “Crash? Is that some sort of joke?”
“No,” I mumble.
“We all call him Crash,” says Lyss, a girl I‘ve known for a few years.
“Because of that awesome scar on his face,” says another kid.
Awesome. Right. “It’s true.” I shrug. “I’ve been called Crash since the sixth grade.”
“Well,” Mr. Taylor sighs. “I think I’ll stick with Winston for now.”
Whatever. It’s not worth it. “Fine,” I say.
When the bell rings, Lyss follows me out of the classroom. “He thinks he’s a real tough guy, huh?” she says of Mr. Taylor.
“Yeah I guess.” I shrug. “Must be the mustache.”
She giggles.
“Thanks for backing me up in there,” I say. She’s kind of cute. She’s small and kind of mousy. Cute.
“No problem.” She smiles. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah,” I agree. I hope so.
My third period is art. I feel like the schedule people decided to give me the biggest waste of a schedule that they possibly could. I sit through it next to Garry, who laughs at anything I say. Even the serious stuff. My teacher drones on about how we are going to be experimenting with different art techniques throughout the semester. I can’t help but think that Davie is probably sitting at school learning about finger paints and shadow puppets too.
When the lunch bell rings, I’m starving. I meet Dallas and Rob outside of the cafeteria and we all walk in together.
“How are your classes?” Dallas asks.
“Should you even have to ask that?” I look at him. We all laugh and get in line for cheeseburgers and fries.
We sit at a table in the very back corner. There is a small section in the cafeteria for the random people that nobody really notices.
“I forgot a fork,” I say to them once we are at the table. “I’ll be right back.”
On my way back up to the line, I see my friend Jeoff. He’s walking towards his section, where all of the black people sit.
“What’s up, man?” I say to him. We’ve been pretty good friends for a long time.
“Hey, Crash.” We shake hands. “How was your summer, man?”
“It was good.” I see one of his friends, Jamal, approaching. I start to rock back and forth on my heels. “I did a lot of working and took care of my little brother mostly.”
“Sounds fun.I worked some too.”
“You ready for senior year?”
“I don’t know, man.” He shrugs. “We’ll see.”
“What you doing talking to that cracker?” Jamal comes up and pushes Jeoff lightly.“What are you doing over here?” He looks hard at me.
“Just talking to my friend.” I put my hands up innocently and back away.“I’ll see you around, Jeoff.”
“Bye, Crash,” he says quietly and follows Jamal.
By the time I get back to our table, Dallas and Rob are almost done eating. Dallas is telling Rob about some police chase or something.
“So that’s when they had to shoot him. Just in the leg though, it was nothing serious.”
“Sweet, dude.” Rob seems fascinated.
I scarf my food. It’s hot and relatively good. They always spoil us on the first day.
“Let’s go outside for a cigarette,” Rob suggests. He and Dallas both smoke. I don’t, but I always go outside with them when they sneak a smoke. It’s kind of a rush knowing that we could get caught.
“Well come on,” Dallas nods.
We go outside to the back of the cafeteria. Teachers never check back here. I smell smoke before we turn the corner; someone must have found out the secret.
It’s Riley Sutton. He is leaned against the back wall, puffing away on a cigarette. He stands tall and cool, like some bad ass.
“What’s up, man?” Dallas pulls out his pack of cigarettes and stands a few feet away from Riley.
“Nothing much,” Riley says without looking at us.
Dallas and Rob light up. I put my hands in my pockets and start to rock. Even though it’s a rush, it still makes me nervous.
“I’m sick of this place already,” Dallas puffs on his Camel.
“You and me both.” Riley nods.
“Just a hundred and seventy-nine more days,” I assure them. “Piece of cake.”
Rob chuckles. The first bell rings and Riley puts out his cigarette. “See you around,” he says cooly.
“Later,” I mumble. “I’m gonna head to class. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Dallas takes says and takes a long drag from his cigarette.
My last class of the day is statistics. I’m not too thrilled about it. I’ve got Mr. Baker, who teaches pretty much every math class you can think of. I’ve heard he’s tough.
He calls the roll, laughs when I tell him I go by Crash. He must like me already, because he calls on me to answer the first problem of the day.
“What do you think, Crash?”
I sit there for a few seconds before I say anything. “Uh…” Everyone turns to stare at me. “Three point one four one five nine two seven?” I blurt out the first few numbers of pi.
Everyone cracks up, including Mr. Baker.
“Very funny, Mister Crash.” He shakes his head and calls on a girl a few rows away from me. Saved by the comedy. Again.
He doesn’t call on me any more, but I make efforts to pay attention. Math is my worst subject. He passes out a sheet of homework problems and I stuff it in my notebook.
When the final bell rings, everyone hurries out to the parking lots. Unlike most of the upperclassmen, I head to the bus parking lot. I ride a different bus in the afternoons, because I go straight to work from school.
I sit down in the second row and pull out my iPod. I turn up Flogging Molly and stare out the dirty bus window. A kid sits down in the seat in front of me a few seconds later. He looks like a freshman. The fear is all over him.
“What’s up?” he mutters.
I take one of my headphones out.“Not much; glad the first day is over.”
“Me too,” he agrees. “I’m Alex.”
We shake hands. “Crash.” He looks surprised, as people generally are when I introduce myself. I chuckle a little. “It’s a long story.”
“It always is.” He nods.
“Yeah.”
A few minutes later, the bus pulls out of the lot. The kid’s shoulders are slumped over, his face hanging low. He looks sad.
“It’s actually not that long of a story,” I say, trying to make conversation. He turns around to me.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I was in a pretty bad accident about seven years ago.”
“Oh,” he mumbles.
“Yeah.” I point to the scar on my face. “That’s how I got this big scar. It was the summer before sixth grade. And when we got back to school, everyone started calling me Crash. I never really stopped them, so it just kinda stuck.”
He laughs a little bit.“Well, I guess it could’ve been worse than a scar and a cool nickname.”
“Yeah.”I pause for a second. “My dad died though. And my baby brother, he almost died.”
“I’m sorry, man.” That awkward silence that always comes after that finally surfaces. “My mom died a little over a year ago. She had ovarian cancer,” he says a few seconds later.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I sigh. “It sucks losing a parent.”
“Yeah, it really does,” he agrees. “And it doesn’t help that my dad just picked us up and moved us all the way here from Virginia.”
“Oh, you’re new here?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn.” I shake my head. “The only thing worse than being a freshman at Five Points is being a new freshman at Five Points.” I feel for the kid.
“Tell me about it,” he groans.
“Yeah, that place is a crazy house. Don’t let it get to you,” I assure him. “It’s all about cliques and how much money you have.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“Just try to be like me.”I shrug.“I don’t fit into any cliques. I’m friends with everyone, and I do my own thing. Just be funny. That’s all you have to do.”
“Maybe I’ll give that a try.” I sigh.
“Do it,” I encourage him. I reach for my wallet and pull out a card from my support group. “And here.” I hand it to him. “I go to a support group once a week. It’s for kids like us, ones who have lost a parent.” I shrug it off. “Come sometime if you want. The people are pretty chill and they always have cookies.”
I know what it’s like to be hurt, lost, to feel alone and stressed. I know I joke around a lot, but that’s just a mask. Even the funny guy has his breaking point.
He chuckles softly and looks over the card before putting it in his pocket. “Okay. Maybe I will.”
The bus stops and I stand up. “Well, this is my stop.”
He looks out at the big building and seems confused.
“Gotta go to work,” I explain. “I’ll see you around, Alex.”
“See ya,” he says, and I get off the bus.
I run across the parking lot so that I make sure I clock in on time. The building is huge and pretty nice for a landscaping company. Mr. West keeps things spotless around here.
I go into the locker room and clock in. Then I change into the ugly blue jumpsuit that we’re required to wear. Ricky Aviles comes in a few minutes later and changes next to me.
“What’s up, man?”
He doesn’t say anything back, just grunts a little bit. I don’t know if he knows much English. He’s Puerto Rican and he never really says much. I know he doesn’t want to be here. But having a job is part of his parole, and Mr. West was the only person who would hire him. He’s lucky, considering his record.
His brother, Manny, is the biggest bully at school. He’s always getting into fights and causing chaos. He’s some big gang member, and I know Ricky is too. So I keep my distance. But we work together on most of our jobsites, because Mr. West knows I do a good job and will keep an eye on Ricky.
I go into the main office and pull out our schedule for the day. We’ve only got three houses to go to, and they are mostly maintenance. So I should be done by six. Ricky is waiting out back for me, where the company trucks are. He’s already loaded up all of our equipment when I get out there.
I have to drive the truck because Ricky doesn’t have his license. I don’t think Mr. West would let him drive the truck even if he did. We get in and I pull out of the lot and head to our first house.
“So, how is everything going in your neck of the woods?” I try to make conversations. I hate awkward car rides.
“Perfect,” he mumbles.
“That’s good,” I say sarcastically. “School started back today. But I’m sure you know that because of Manny.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Yeah, I hate that place.” I stare ahead at the road. “I’m just trying to push myself so I can finish up and get away from this job.”
He still doesn’t say anything.
“I understand why you quit though. That place is the shits.”
He turns to me quickly. “What are you trying to say, boy?”
“Nothing, nothing.” I stutter a little and try to keep the steering wheel steady. “I just meant that I understand why anyone wouldn’t want to be there. That’s all.”
He stares at me hard for several seconds. His glare hurts almost as bad as I’m sure one of his punches would. Almost.
I don’t say anything else. We get to the first house and I park out front. It’s Ruby St. Clair’s place. A mansion is more like it. We get out and take out our shears and other equipment. I work quickly and so does he. It takes us about thirty minutes to finish, and when we do, I step up to the front door and ring the doorbell.
Ruby opens the door a few seconds later.
“Oh, hey Crash. I forgot you were coming!” She looks a little flushed.
“That’s cool.” I shrug “We just finished up, everything looks good.”
She looks out at the bushes.“Okay, great.” She goes inside for a second and comes right back with an envelope. “Here’s your check. Make sure Ricky gets his too.”
“Aren’t you going to invite us in for lemonade and pastries?” I smile big.
She just rolls her eyes. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, Crash. Have a good night.” She tries to shut the door but I stop it with my hand.
“Come on, just one donut. I’m dying out here.”
She looks past me at Ricky, who is standing behind me at the bottom of the steps. “Alright. She caves. “But I’ll bring them to you, you guys stay out here.” She disappears, but comes back a minute later with a plate of danishes.
“Jackpot,” I say.
“You’re welcome,” she says sarcastically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”She closes the door before I have time to say thank you.
We get back in the truck. “You want one?” I offer him a danish.
“I don’t want that shit,” He mumbles.
“Alright.” I shrug and put the danishes in the middle of the seat.
We finish up at the other two houses and I drive back to the company. Ricky hurries inside once I’ve parked. He is changed and about to clock out when I get there.
“Have a good night, man.” I don’t know why I keep trying to talk to him, because once again he ignores me.
I take my time changing out of my uniform and clocking out. On my way out, I run into Mr. West.
“Hey Mister West.” I reach out my hand and shake his.
“How’s it going, Crash?”
I like that he calls me that. “Great, we just finished up at the St. Clair's, the Hammond’s, and the Booth’s. Everything went smoothly.”
“Sounds great.” He nods. “Did Ricky take care of everything?”
“Yes sir,” I assure him. “He works well when he wants to.”
“I’m glad to hear it. How was the first day of school?”
“It was school.” I shrug.
“That’s funny.” He chuckles. “My daughter said the same thing to me when I texted her earlier.”
The thought of Mr. West texting makes me laugh.
“Yeah, school isn’t anything special. But I’ve got to get home so I can take care of Davie.”
“Right.” He nods. “I’ll be here for a while. Thanks for your hard work, Crash. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Mister West.”
Work is just a couple of blocks from the hotel, so I walk quickly on the busy sidewalks. It’s starting to get dark, but I’m not scared.
I get to the Eagle and hurry up to our room. When I get there, Davie is in front of the television eating beanie weenies and watching Nickelodeon. Janey is sitting at the small round table doing her homework.
“Hey,” I say and shut the door.
“Crash!” Davie gets up and hugs me.
“What’s up, little man?”
He hurries back in front of the television. Janey gathers up her stuff and shoves it in her bag.
“Hey, Janey.” I smile.
She doesn’t look directly at me. “Hey,” she mumbles.
“Thanks for watching him. My mom will pay you at the end of the week.”
“No problem.” Her voice is so quiet. She’s got on way too much eyeliner. And black fingernail polish, God. I’ll never understand the emo chicks.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I open the door for her and she walks right out.
“See ya.”
I close the door and shake my head. Girls.
“How was school, Davie?” I sit down next to him on the bed and take a bite of his beans.
“Great!” He doesn’t look away from the television. “My teacher is pretty.”
“Oh God,” I groan. I open a package of Ramen noodles and put it in a bowl with some water. I put it in the microwave. This has been my dinner for the last two years.
“When is Mom gonna be home?” Davie turns to me.
“Soon,” I assure him.
When my pasta is done, I sit down next to him and we watch Nickelodeon until it is time for him to take a shower. We eat two of the cherry danishes Ruby gave me. My mom still isn’t home. I check over his homework while he brushes his teeth.
At 8:30, Davie crawls into bed. I sit at the table and do my math problems and flip through channels on the television.
My mom gets home around nine. She looks exhausted when she comes into the room.
“Hey, Honey.” She runs her hands through her hair and puts her purse down. “Sorry, the diner was packed.”
“No problem,” I assure her. “How was work?”
“Terrible, as usual.” She sits down across from me. “How was school?”
“The usual.” I shrug. “My classes suck, but it’ll be okay. I’ve got statistics this semester.”
“Bummer,” she sighs. “I brought you some banana pudding.” She hands me a Styrofoam bowl and a plastic spoon.
“Awesome,” I take the bowl and spoon and scoop up some of the banana pudding. It is my favorite from the diner. But I also know that she brings it to me when she’s trying to avoid a fight.
I wait for it.
“I’m gonna go out for a few hours.”
I knew it. “But you just got here,” I protest.
“I know, Honey. But I’ve had a long day. I just want to get out and have a little fun.”
“Me too.”
“Don’t be like this, Crash. Not tonight. Please?”
“Who is he?” I demand.
“It’s not like that,”she insists. “We’re just going out for a few drinks. That’s it.”
“What’s his name?”
She sighs. “His name is Mark. And that’s all you need to know for now.” I don’t say anything. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I ask sarcastically. I get up, take my shirt off, and pull back the covers on the bed where Davie is already asleep. “I hope you have fun. And don’t worry, Davie got his dinner and I made sure all of his homework was done. I went ahead and signed the parent forms too.”
“Winston,” she starts.
“Don’t call me that.” I push her hand away as she tries to touch my face. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I get into bed. She goes into the bathroom and turns on the shower. A few minutes later, she comes out and gets dressed. I hear her putting on her makeup and fixing her hair. She picks up her purse and walks around to my side of the bed. I close my eyes so she’ll think I’m asleep. Her perfume is strong. She leans over me and kisses Davie, then me.
Then she leaves. I say a quick prayer. Please keep her safe.
I can’t stand to lose another one.
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