“It hurts to hear. But it’s a fair point.”
“So you fail a drug test and now you want us to believe that you’ve seen the light?”
Troy thought about it. “The truth is, I need Mickey’s help. You have no idea how hard that was to admit. Brandon really helped me see that. And, yeah, I know how this sounds, but maybe talking to Mickey, you know, face-to-face and all, maybe that’s what it was. It’s easy to hate at a distance. It’s not so easy to hate face-to-face, like this.”
Ema just frowned.
“But when I was talking to Mickey, I started thinking about everything. My whole life, I guess. Here was some guy I’ve been a total jerk to and he’s willing to help me. I’d have never done that. I’m being honest here. It made me think. It made me wonder about what kind of guy I am and what kind of guy I want to be. I took a long, hard look at myself. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. Things have always come easy to me. Maybe I needed this, I don’t know. Either way, I took a long, hard look in the mirror—and I didn’t like what I saw.”
Troy stood and picked up his tray. “I don’t blame you, Ema. And I don’t expect to make amends in one day. Tiny steps. So if you won’t accept my apologies for all the horrible things I’ve said over the years—and you shouldn’t yet—please accept my apologies for barging in on you guys like this.” He gave me a nod and started on his way. “See you around.”
I almost called out to him, but I let it go. Ema didn’t reply either. She just lowered her head and started picking at her food.
“He’s full of it, you know.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t blame her. I got it. I more than got it. I didn’t fully trust him either, and I had only been subjected to his bullying for a few weeks. Ema had dealt with it most of her life.
At the same time, he had come to us. He had made the first move. I hated the idea of merely rejecting him back. It felt wrong. It felt like something they would do, not us.
Ema put down her fork. “We should look into Troy’s drug test.”
“Really?”
Ema nodded. “So we can prove once and for all that he’s a lying bully.”
CHAPTER 18
After school I received a group text from Spoon. It was addressed to Rachel, Ema, and me.
Got something. Stop by tonight?
We all texted back that we would.
I got to the locker room early, changed, and found my way to the basket in the corner. I was the first one there and I enjoyed five minutes of solitude. The next guy out of the locker room was a junior named Danny Brown. As I saw him grab a basketball and stroll onto the court, I stopped dribbling and waited for the customary stony glare.
Only I didn’t get one.
More than that, instead of heading toward the center basket, Danny Brown started making his way toward me.
“Hey, Mickey,” he said.
“Uh, hey, Danny.”
No one had ever introduced us. We had never exchanged words before. But that was how it was. Other guys came out, and again, to my astonishment, they made their way toward my corner basket. Danny grabbed the rebound and threw it out to me. We ran passing and shooting drills. People said hello to me. They slapped me five. They asked how I was liking the new school. They asked about some of my classes. They warned me about teachers to stay away from and offered me study guides that would be helpful.
One guy, a senior named Eric Bachmann, asked me if I needed a ride home after practice.
For the first time in my life, I felt I was part of a team.
I know that sounds like nothing in comparison to what was going on around me. Ema had a missing boyfriend. I had a dead father and a mom in rehab, and this crazy Luther guy was probably after me. But right now, for just a minute or two, I let myself revel in this wonderful camaraderie that came so easily to others.
The joy continued on the court. My teammates passed to me. I passed to them. On one fast break, I faked a drive to the hoop, hoisted the
“So you fail a drug test and now you want us to believe that you’ve seen the light?”
Troy thought about it. “The truth is, I need Mickey’s help. You have no idea how hard that was to admit. Brandon really helped me see that. And, yeah, I know how this sounds, but maybe talking to Mickey, you know, face-to-face and all, maybe that’s what it was. It’s easy to hate at a distance. It’s not so easy to hate face-to-face, like this.”
Ema just frowned.
“But when I was talking to Mickey, I started thinking about everything. My whole life, I guess. Here was some guy I’ve been a total jerk to and he’s willing to help me. I’d have never done that. I’m being honest here. It made me think. It made me wonder about what kind of guy I am and what kind of guy I want to be. I took a long, hard look at myself. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. Things have always come easy to me. Maybe I needed this, I don’t know. Either way, I took a long, hard look in the mirror—and I didn’t like what I saw.”
Troy stood and picked up his tray. “I don’t blame you, Ema. And I don’t expect to make amends in one day. Tiny steps. So if you won’t accept my apologies for all the horrible things I’ve said over the years—and you shouldn’t yet—please accept my apologies for barging in on you guys like this.” He gave me a nod and started on his way. “See you around.”
I almost called out to him, but I let it go. Ema didn’t reply either. She just lowered her head and started picking at her food.
“He’s full of it, you know.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t blame her. I got it. I more than got it. I didn’t fully trust him either, and I had only been subjected to his bullying for a few weeks. Ema had dealt with it most of her life.
At the same time, he had come to us. He had made the first move. I hated the idea of merely rejecting him back. It felt wrong. It felt like something they would do, not us.
Ema put down her fork. “We should look into Troy’s drug test.”
“Really?”
Ema nodded. “So we can prove once and for all that he’s a lying bully.”
CHAPTER 18
After school I received a group text from Spoon. It was addressed to Rachel, Ema, and me.
Got something. Stop by tonight?
We all texted back that we would.
I got to the locker room early, changed, and found my way to the basket in the corner. I was the first one there and I enjoyed five minutes of solitude. The next guy out of the locker room was a junior named Danny Brown. As I saw him grab a basketball and stroll onto the court, I stopped dribbling and waited for the customary stony glare.
Only I didn’t get one.
More than that, instead of heading toward the center basket, Danny Brown started making his way toward me.
“Hey, Mickey,” he said.
“Uh, hey, Danny.”
No one had ever introduced us. We had never exchanged words before. But that was how it was. Other guys came out, and again, to my astonishment, they made their way toward my corner basket. Danny grabbed the rebound and threw it out to me. We ran passing and shooting drills. People said hello to me. They slapped me five. They asked how I was liking the new school. They asked about some of my classes. They warned me about teachers to stay away from and offered me study guides that would be helpful.
One guy, a senior named Eric Bachmann, asked me if I needed a ride home after practice.
For the first time in my life, I felt I was part of a team.
I know that sounds like nothing in comparison to what was going on around me. Ema had a missing boyfriend. I had a dead father and a mom in rehab, and this crazy Luther guy was probably after me. But right now, for just a minute or two, I let myself revel in this wonderful camaraderie that came so easily to others.
The joy continued on the court. My teammates passed to me. I passed to them. On one fast break, I faked a drive to the hoop, hoisted the
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