We flew back to Minneapolis on Sunday afternoon. That night Dad pulled Jenna and me into the living room separately to discuss “the consequences of our actions.” Jenna went in first and about ten minutes later, she came out smiling.
“What happened?” I asked as she strolled confidently into the kitchen.
“He just moved my curfew forward for the next couple of weekends. No big deal.”
That gave me hope. We were just going to see our Mom, right? He could see that.
“Your turn. Go get ’em, champ,” she said playfully.
My meeting with Dad took even less time. I was already grounded for lying to him about going to Seth’s, so he just added a week onto my sentence. Piece of cake. We ate dinner that night—together. It wasn’t much. We were tired. No one felt like cooking, so Dad ordered Chinese food. Jenna sat to my right and Dad was across from me, his head blocking the view of the Mundahl’s house through the big, bay window.
We ate quietly. No one talked much, but it was nice, pleasant even. The food tasted good. I wasn’t a big Chinese fan, but there must have been something special in the sweet-and-sour chicken, or maybe in the rice, because it was one of the best meals I had had in a long time.
Before I went to bed, I took out my phone, opened a new text message and typed.
nicole,
thanks. owe you big time.
tim
The tree outside my bedroom window was still. As still as I had ever seen it. The Oreo house slept in peace and so did I.
Dad drove me to school on Monday because we had all overslept a little and I missed the bus. I checked into the office for a pass and then went to my locker. Homeroom was over and first period had just started. I didn’t feel like going to class. The pass the secretary gave me didn’t have a time on it. I think everyone who works in a school should have to take a class called “School Employees 101,” and in that class the first thing they should teach is to always put the times on hall passes.
Nicole was down the hall in Mrs. Donaldson’s class, where I was supposed to be. I headed that direction, slyly ducking and dodging classroom windows so teachers couldn’t see me.
I peered into the room, keeping my body to the side of the window so Mrs. Donaldson couldn’t get a clean look at me. Nicole was sitting in her regular seat, two rows up and four rows over. Her head was down because she was writing something in her notebook. I could only see her curly, dark hair draped over the side of her face. But then she looked toward the door. I backed up and waved my hand, making a motion for her to come out to the hallway.
A couple of minutes later she talked to Mrs. Donaldson and left the room. I was hiding by the side of the door. “Hi,” I said when she came out looking a little confused. “How’d you get out?”
“I told her I had to go to the bathroom. What’s going on?”
“Follow me.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway. I opened the double doors that led into the stairwell. Teachers stored old desks and chalkboards under the stairs, but its primary function was to give students a place to go when they skipped class.
My palms were sweaty and my heart was racing, but there was no hesitation. When we got under the stairs, I looked Nicole in the eye. I had never noticed before, but she had really blue eyes. Our family had taken a vacation in Arizona one Christmas. When I first saw the sky there, I didn’t think I would ever see anything so blue again. Nicole’s eyes changed my thinking about that.
“What are we doing under here, Tim?”
“Did you get my text?” I asked her.
“Yeah. It’s no problem. I really wanted to go out there.”
“Why did you want to go out there so bad?”
“I don’t know. I felt real bad about your mom. I wanted to help somehow.” She paused for a moment. She had been looking right into my eyes, but then she put her head down, staring at the cold, tile floor. “Plus, you were out there,” she finally said, looking up again after she got the words out.
Then I did it. I had never done it before. Not with anyone, but I did it then. I landed one on her. Right on her lips. I tried to count the seconds in my head, but I couldn’t concentrate on the kissing and the counting all at once. Nicole didn’t back away. I wondered if she would. I think it lasted five or six seconds, but it might have only been three or four. I’m gonna go with five or six.
When I pulled away from her lips, I didn’t know what to say, so I stared. Nicole had a smile on her face and her eyes were wide open. Her blue, Arizona eyes. She broke the awkward silence. “I liked that even better than the text.” Why couldn’t I have thought of something smooth like that to say?
I didn’t walk home from school that day. I took the bus. I wondered if Seth walked by himself. We had a baseball game that night. Dad drove me. Usually Seth and I carpooled, but he hadn’t called and I didn’t feel like calling him. He must have found another way there.
When we arrived at the diamond, the towering lights were already turned on. Seth was there, sitting in the dugout. I walked to the outfield where Johnny Swenson was watching a few other teammates playing catch. “Hey, Johnny. Wanna warm up?” I asked.
He looked surprised. People didn’t usually ask him to play catch. He had to push his way in usually. “Yeah!” He ran to his spot, turned around, and punched the inside of his glove as if to say, I’m ready now!
My back was turned to the dugout, but Johnny threw the ball ten feet out of my reach. I had to turn and chase after it. When I bent down to pick up the ball, I saw Seth standing in the dugout, his hands clenched against the chain link fence. His eyes were glued to me. Why was he still in the dugout? That was the first time we hadn’t warmed up together in five years. As I cocked my arm to throw the ball, I hesitated. Turning back toward the dugout, I yelled, “Seth! Wanna come warm up with us?”
Seth shook his head, a scowl on his face, and sat back down on the bench. I tried. I then stepped toward Johnny and threw a laser right at his chest. It bounced off his glove like a pinball. It had been sunny all day, but now it was chilly outside. Clouds were rolling in. A typical April day in Minneapolis. Just as the drizzle started coming down I saw Seth coming toward me. Before he had a chance to say anything, Coach Swenson yelled to us. “Come on in guys! The rain’s starting to come down.”
“Let’s go Johnny,” I said. Seth’s head spun as I jogged right past him. The other team was sprinting to shelter as well.
Seth caught up with me in the dugout. I was leaning forward with my elbows on my knees as the rain crashed against the roof. He pushed Johnny over and squeezed himself right next to me. “Where you been, man?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I was playing dumb.
“You weren’t at school much last week. You didn’t sit with us at lunch today. And I was waiting to warm up with you, and you started throwing with Johnny.”
“I asked if you wanted to play with us.”
“I didn’t want to play catch with Johnny.”
I decided to change the subject. “Uh, well, we went to see my mom last week.”
“In Iraq?” He was really behind. I had told him all about Mom being in the hospital in Washington, D.C., but he obviously forgot, or hadn’t listened. I stared at him, saying nothing. Finally, I gave in and gave him the short version of what happened—again. Dude, that’s crazy,” he said. “I’m glad she’s okay though.”
“Are you?”
“What do you mean? Of course.”
“That’s the second time I have told you about all of this. Why should I have to do that? If you really gave a shit, wouldn’t you have remembered it the first time?” For once, Seth had nothing to say.
I stared straight forward, watching the rain dwindle away. The clouds were beginning to break up already. Coach Swenson was out on the grass, tapping his feet on the ground to see if we could play. The rain stopped. The opposing coach and he talked for a minute. “Let’s give it a few minutes to dry, guys!” he yelled from the outfield grass. “Then we’ll give it a whirl.”
I stood up and looked over the top of Seth’s head, down the row of players sitting on the bench. “Johnny. Wanna play catch again when it dries?”
“Yeah!” he shrieked, nodding furiously.
“I thought we were going to play catch,” Seth said angrily.
“We were?” We had never made plans to play catch before. It just always happened that way. “Well, you can play with us if you want. But Johnny needs someone to play with too.”
I stood up and leaned against the fence of the dugout, my fingers poking through the chain links. I was trying to avoid the awkward silence between us. Everyone else in the dugout was talking and making noise, but there was only uncomfortable stillness between Seth and me.
“Okay, boys. Let’s give it a try!” yelled Coach Swenson a few minutes later. I ran out of the dugout as fast as I could and found a spot to wait for Johnny, who was right behind me. I wondered if Seth was coming too. He wasn’t.
I had never played catch with Johnny before that day, and after a while I figured out why. I was chasing balls left and right, and I couldn’t throw it very hard to him because I was afraid it might hit him in the face. Seth was down the row playing catch with Daron. I tried not to look over at him.
Coach Swenson soon called us into the infield for a short batting practice, which we did before each game. Coach almost always had Johnny hit first. I think he wanted to make his son feel good. Plus, it got the pain out of the way. Those of us shagging balls didn’t get much practice.
Daron was up next, and we all had to be on our toes. I was playing my normal position at second base, but he pulled most of the balls hard to left field. Aaron Randle was out there and getting quite a workout.
Seth was up next. He walked in slowly from his position at third. Usually he liked to show how hard he was working around Coach Swenson. Not this time. “Let’s see a little hustle!” said Coach with a smile. He couldn’t be mean if he wanted to. Seth was a decent hitter, but he didn’t have the kind of power Daron did. He hit his first couple of balls to the shortstop. Then one came right at me. It was a tricky hopper, the kind that had eaten me up many times before. This time my glove swallowed it. I casually tossed the ball back to Coach who was on the pitching mound. Two more grounders came at me from Seth’s bat. I snagged them with ease. Then a fly ball and a line drive. No problem. “Wow, Tim. Lookin’ good out there,” Coach Swenson said. I gave him a nod.
When Seth was finished hitting, he dropped his bat on the plate and trotted back to his third base position. His hands were on his knees and his head was down, facing the dirt of the infield. All I could see was the brim of his hat. You had some nice hits!” I yelled to him across the field. He looked toward me, his hands still on his knees, and shrugged without saying a word.
A few minutes later, when Coach wasn’t looking, he ran out to center field where Daron was playing. Seth told Aaron to take his place at third. He stayed in the outfield for the rest of batting practice, talking to Daron and laughing. I could hear them laugh, but I couldn’t make out their voices. I’m still not sure what was so funny. All I knew was that not even baseball was enough to keep Seth and me together that day.