beard and stared at the floor. When he looked up, he gave me a small smile. “That’s cool. You don’t have to talk today. But listen . . .” He rummaged through the pile of pamphlets on the coffee table and pulled out three or four small green cards. “These are what I call Go Cards,” he said, and handed them to me. “When you want to talk, just write your name on a card and slip it under my office door. I’ll send for you that same day.”
I glanced down at them and then stuck them in my backpack. I didn’t think I’d be using them, but I didn’t want to be rude.
“Okay. Thanks.” I struggled to get up from the chair. James unfolded from his and stood. He glanced at his watch.
“There’s ten minutes left in this period, so you can go back to class.” He scribbled on a late pass. “Thanks for coming in.”
“Okay,” I said. I took it and folded the corners down. “Thanks for checking on me.”
He opened the door and I slipped out.
The hallway was empty, but given the way things had been going, if Shakespeare himself had been waiting there, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
ii
That afternoon I was supposed to meet Ty, Ely, and Judith at the Chilly Spoon to discuss the whole Dezzie/Saber/Mauri situation and probably argue more about my newly discovered Shakespearean curse. As I coasted into the tiny parking lot, I saw Ty’s skateboard chained to the bike rack. He’d had one stolen two years before, and it was like he’d lost part of himself. He was determined not to lose this one to thieves. I parked my bike next to the board.
The Chilly Spoon is the best ice cream place in town. When you open the door, a whiff of homemade vanilla goodness wraps you in a desserty cloud. They make their own waffle cones and bowls all day, so the store has this warm, cozy smell. Ty and I had been coming here nearly weekly since they’d opened, and Ely and Judith joined us after we all started hanging out our first year at HoHo.
Ty was sitting at the rear table, the only one that didn’t rock, back to me, alone. A tall white cup printed with the Spoon’s logo sat on the pink and black checkered tablecloth. I plopped into the seat across from him.
“Hey,” I said. “Where’re Ely and Judith?”
He shrugged. “Ely said he’d be here after he walked Bunny, and I think Judith has a piano lesson.” Ely’s mom and dad got the family a dog after his sister had finished her cancer treatment, and had let her name him. Sometimes, when things at home went medieval to the extreme, I’d call Ely and ask him to meet me at the dog park. Iago would sit in the shade, lick his paws, and refuse to get dirty or interact with the other dogs, but Ely’s dog was another story: Picture a seventy-five-pound chocolate Lab responding to “Bunny! Here boy!” when romping around, playing with the other people and their pets. It cracked me up every time.
“Of course Judith has piano.” I rolled my eyes, but Ty knew that I was proud of her. Judith takes her music very seriously—she wants to be a singer/songwriter someday, and plays piano and guitar. Her voice is really good too.
I kicked at the rungs of my chair. “So what’s up with the beverage? That better be water.” I tried to sound like I was teasing, but I wasn’t. Ty knew it too.
Whoever got to the Spoon first waited for the other before ordering. That way we could be sure to get complementary flavors. It was a bummer if you went in wanting orange sherbet and the other person already ordered mint chip—no sharing allowed, unless you’re a fan of the ever-popular toothpaste/OJ combo.
He shrugged. “I wanted a frappe.”
“Chocolate cherry?” I asked. It was one of his favorites.
“So what’s up with Dezzie?” he continued, ignoring my question.
Something was off. Ty took our ice cream rule very seriously.
“Uh . . . everything okay?” I asked. I hadn’t done anything wrong . . . had I?
“Yeah, totally.” He brushed his bangs back and sipped
I glanced down at them and then stuck them in my backpack. I didn’t think I’d be using them, but I didn’t want to be rude.
“Okay. Thanks.” I struggled to get up from the chair. James unfolded from his and stood. He glanced at his watch.
“There’s ten minutes left in this period, so you can go back to class.” He scribbled on a late pass. “Thanks for coming in.”
“Okay,” I said. I took it and folded the corners down. “Thanks for checking on me.”
He opened the door and I slipped out.
The hallway was empty, but given the way things had been going, if Shakespeare himself had been waiting there, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
ii
That afternoon I was supposed to meet Ty, Ely, and Judith at the Chilly Spoon to discuss the whole Dezzie/Saber/Mauri situation and probably argue more about my newly discovered Shakespearean curse. As I coasted into the tiny parking lot, I saw Ty’s skateboard chained to the bike rack. He’d had one stolen two years before, and it was like he’d lost part of himself. He was determined not to lose this one to thieves. I parked my bike next to the board.
The Chilly Spoon is the best ice cream place in town. When you open the door, a whiff of homemade vanilla goodness wraps you in a desserty cloud. They make their own waffle cones and bowls all day, so the store has this warm, cozy smell. Ty and I had been coming here nearly weekly since they’d opened, and Ely and Judith joined us after we all started hanging out our first year at HoHo.
Ty was sitting at the rear table, the only one that didn’t rock, back to me, alone. A tall white cup printed with the Spoon’s logo sat on the pink and black checkered tablecloth. I plopped into the seat across from him.
“Hey,” I said. “Where’re Ely and Judith?”
He shrugged. “Ely said he’d be here after he walked Bunny, and I think Judith has a piano lesson.” Ely’s mom and dad got the family a dog after his sister had finished her cancer treatment, and had let her name him. Sometimes, when things at home went medieval to the extreme, I’d call Ely and ask him to meet me at the dog park. Iago would sit in the shade, lick his paws, and refuse to get dirty or interact with the other dogs, but Ely’s dog was another story: Picture a seventy-five-pound chocolate Lab responding to “Bunny! Here boy!” when romping around, playing with the other people and their pets. It cracked me up every time.
“Of course Judith has piano.” I rolled my eyes, but Ty knew that I was proud of her. Judith takes her music very seriously—she wants to be a singer/songwriter someday, and plays piano and guitar. Her voice is really good too.
I kicked at the rungs of my chair. “So what’s up with the beverage? That better be water.” I tried to sound like I was teasing, but I wasn’t. Ty knew it too.
Whoever got to the Spoon first waited for the other before ordering. That way we could be sure to get complementary flavors. It was a bummer if you went in wanting orange sherbet and the other person already ordered mint chip—no sharing allowed, unless you’re a fan of the ever-popular toothpaste/OJ combo.
He shrugged. “I wanted a frappe.”
“Chocolate cherry?” I asked. It was one of his favorites.
“So what’s up with Dezzie?” he continued, ignoring my question.
Something was off. Ty took our ice cream rule very seriously.
“Uh . . . everything okay?” I asked. I hadn’t done anything wrong . . . had I?
“Yeah, totally.” He brushed his bangs back and sipped
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