Chapter 21

“that’s how we do it, son!” One of the bros hops up and down, hanging off another.

“You know it. Fucked that shit up!”

They stare at the kids passing by, daring someone to ask. Because we should all know. The bros won their game on Friday. Woo. Fucking. Hoo.

Quinn and I pass and the bros stare particularly hard.

“Fudgy the Whale, getting packed by Quinn the Queer.”

Normally, I’d film and keep on going, but since today Quinn decided not only to talk to me on the ride in, but wait and walk with me, I’ll keep filming and return the favor.

“What did you say to me?” Quinn stands real close to both of the bros.

They look at each other, smile, and step even closer. “Get the dick out of your ear and you might hear.” The one bro laughs and they pound fists. I don’t know their names, can’t even tell them apart. With their popped collars and lettuce hair, who can?

Quinn cuts a line across his throat, the universal sign for stop filming. I do. He waves his hands to draw the bros in and fits his head directly between them. He whispers, but I can’t hear him. I watch the bros’ faces. They laugh along at first and then drop and pull tight. Anger? Concern? It’s tough to tell.

Quinn stands straight and slaps them both on their shoulders. “Good talk,” he says and nods his head, indicating that I should walk with him. The bros eyeball us as we go.

“Did you just dig a deeper hole for us?”

“Please, like you haven’t?”

Solid point.

We head to Blint’s and he says “hey” to kids in the hall who call out to him. I wouldn’t call him popular, but he’s known.

Ella’s hanging by Blint’s door. Fortunately, none of the bros are stacked around Kyle’s and Stephen’s lockers. “Hey, Greg. Quinn. You still considering your stupid idea?”

“Which one?”

“True, you do have many. Your spring break plans.”

“I am. Don’t have all the details worked out yet.” I follow Ella into class, wondering what she has in store.

Ella says, “I’ve got your details, and they start with you not being there and us planting hardware on Kyle or Stephen. Because, really, how are you going to record them? The real them?”

It’s the one question I keep coming back to as well. I’ll have to make one video, but at the same time, another on a second camera. It’s the only way: create a screen and then become a mole.

“You don’t know. Shit. Do you want me to start planning your funeral? I promise to have a projector and screen there with classic film highlights. Shit, how is Oliver?”

“Haven’t seen him.” I could kick myself. The truth is I didn’t look for him. I was too busy being all happy that Q was walking with me that I completely forgot.

Taleana walks in the room and looks down to Ella’s hand as she passes. “You let me know if you need anything else looked at. All right, sweetie?”

Ella flips her off with her good hand.

“A matching set? Done.” Taleana swings into her seat and the bell rings.

“Are you crazy?” I ask Ella.

She nods. “Yes, actually I am.”

Blint closes the door. “All right. Now, our next consideration is one that so many students have a difficulty with: time constraints. And no, I don’t mean getting to class before the bell.” He smiles at his own joke. “Your film must be seven to ten minutes, no more.” Then he looks as serious as he can with his birdlike features. “I will stop your film at exactly ten minutes, and will grade you on that.” Ella’s eyes are fixed on something in the distance and not on Blint. I’m sure her thoughts are tumbling. Yeah, she probably is crazy, which makes me so glad she’s on my side.

• • •

All day I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for Alva and Gilbey, but I haven’t seen them. The rest of the bros are still losing their shit up and down the hall. One win? Seriously? But I have heard them adding to it, “This is just what we need before break.”

I spy Ollie at our table as Q texts me. Flatbread sandwich, no cheese. Banana. Ollie doesn’t have a tray and looks like those abandoned animals on those terrible rescue commercials.

“Ollie, hey . . .” I almost say how’s it going, but bite my tongue. “Q texted me. You?”

He looks up, eyes ringed in dark circles, face puffy. “What?”

“Lunch, man. You should eat.” Or should he? How do I know?

“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” He doesn’t make any movement like he’s going to get up, though.

To be honest, I’m glad. Last thing either of us needs is to be together in the lunch line. “I’ll get it for you. Chill.”

“Thanks, Greg.” His voice is so soft it practically fades out before leaving his lips.

I hop in line and grab two of everything. The lunch lady holds a smirk on her face. I bet she thinks I’m going off the wagon. Well, screw her, the cafeteria slop is way down on my list of Most Desired foods.

When I head back, Ella’s with Ollie. They’re talking away and Ollie even laughs. I set the tray down and shoot her a confused look.

“Thanks,” Ollie says, his voice much stronger.

“No worries. So what are you two talking about?”

Ella perks up. “You know, just how much an idiot you are.” She flashes me a big beautiful smile, and I have no doubt that she’s sincere.

Ollie bites into his sandwich. “I agree with her.”

Ella touches his free hand and I’m jealous.

I take a few bites of the sandwich, which certainly is flat. As in like a tire. “So tomorrow, four to eight?”

Ollie looks up, his eyes glazed again. “Yeah, at MacGregor’s. Why?”

Ella coughs and shakes her head. I ignore her.

“I’m going.”

Ollie stares for a moment, and I’d like to tell him to shut his mouth because a third of his sandwich is poking out, but the food falling out of his face is the least of his problems.

A tray lands before us and Quinn is here, looking around as if we might bite him, but then he sees Ollie. “Shit.” He slides napkins along the table. Ella and I do the same. Ollie grabs them and buries his face. I peer over his now trembling shoulders. Kids are watching, and soon they’ll be cracking jokes. Another fun fucking day for Double Stuffed Ollie.

We eat while Ollie regains himself and Ella asks the question I want to. “So, Quinn, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I, uh, just figured I should. Okay?” His cheeks are touched with red, his voice unsteady.

Ella answers, “Fine with me.”

“We working out today?” I ask Quinn.

He nods and we both look at Ollie. “You should,” I say to Ollie. “It’ll keep you out of the house.”

I see Ella give me a dirty look. She doesn’t understand.

“Yeah, I guess. When?”

“After school,” Q says. “We don’t need to wait for the weight room to be open.”

Ollie chews and nods. Ella stays inside her own head, Quinn pops open a milk, and I return to my lunch. We might not understand each other completely, but at least we give each other the space to be who we are. Or who we’re trying to be.