THE MOMENT OF TRUTH

FRIDAY MORNING.

Puget High School.

Five minutes before the bell.

No Luis.

He never called me back. I haven’t seen him since Wednesday morning, before the fight. He’s clearly suspended.

I had held out hope that somehow he’d show.

You’d think I would have learned by now.

I’ve got years of practice with this hoping thing.

What I’ve learned is people are either there for you or they’re not there for you.

And no bunch of hoping is gonna change that.

So here I am.

Alone with a choice to make. Should I go to Cassidy’s and watch the other kids do their thing and sit there pissed off at myself—and at Luis?

Or should I get lost?

The bell rings.

I take off running.

I’m out the front door, and think I’m in the clear. Then Carter sticks his head out the office window.

“Hey, where are you going, Sam? There’s a special delivery for you in the office. Come pick it up and head to class.”

I trudge back inside the building and into the office. Carter hands me a CD and a note. The note reads

Hey, Sam,

Sorry I can’t be there. I hope you can forgive me. I can’t really explain what’s going on, but I’ll tell you all about it soon. I know you’re not going to want to do this thing by yourself, but I think you should. Do it for me. Do it for yourself. We worked too hard on this. I recorded my part on CD, so I’ll be there with you. Just press play and do your thing, man! You’re going to be great!

Your brother in slam,

Luis

Why doesn’t he come out and say he’s suspended?

As mad as I am, there’s something about the note that makes it okay.

So before I know it, I’m walking to Cassidy’s, CD in hand, running the lines of the poem in my head.

I pull the door open. It’s dark in there.

Cassidy has replaced the fluorescent lights with candles. There’s a spotlight outlining a stage. A music stand is set up for people to put their poems on. There’s cookies and juice. There’s coffee! It doesn’t look anything like our class.

Cassidy strides my way with a huge smile on her face. “Sam, my man. I’m looking forward to hearing what you got.”

It’s wishful thinking on her part. She has no idea about the poem.

But she says it like she knows.

“Grab a cup o’ joe. Sit back and enjoy. Hey, where’s your partner in crime?”

“I dunno.”

Cassidy hollers, “All right, gang!” She lays out the ground rules. “Listen respectfully. Fill out a reflection for each poem—respectfully. Stand up tall and speak into the mic like you deserve your classmates’ adoration. And you’ll get it. I promise you.”

This girl Sherice puts her hand in a bucket and pulls out a piece of paper. She’s about to read the first name.

I try to calm myself.

Try to breathe away the pinpricks in my face and the pounding in my chest.

Try to confront my fear like a man.

I can do this. I can stay and make an ass out of myself in front of everyone and be proud that I tried.

Or—

I bolt out of the room.

I feel freedom.

I feel relief.

I feel like a pile of dog crap because I’m a worthless fucking failure.

I start running down B Hall and Carter is there.

Again.

“Hey, where ya goin’, bud?”

He puts a hand on my shoulder.

I wanna slap it off and keep running.

He says, “I hear it’s big poetry day in Ms. Cassidy’s class.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You better get in there. You might miss something.”

“I need a second. I need a drink of water.”

Cassidy’s head pops out the door. “Sam I Am, you’re on, dude.”

Shit.

My heart’s in my throat now. I swear I’m about to puke it up.

She holds her hand out. There’s a cup of coffee in it. “Slam this. It’s black.… It’ll put some hair on your chest.”

I chug it.

Cassidy sees Mr. Carter and smiles. “Forgive me, Carter. I don’t have the sugar soda and Kool-Aid I usually serve the kiddos … just coffee today.”

He’s cracking up at Cassidy. I’m shaking like a jackhammer as I hand her Luis’s CD.

“DJ Cass is on it. Pull yourself together, bro; I’m announcing you in ten, nine, eight…”

Carter slaps me on the back. “Get in there and do your thing. You’re going to be great.”

“You don’t know that, Mr. Carter. You have no idea.”

His eyes get wide. He’s as surprised as I am that I talked back. “You’re right, Sam,” he says. “What I do know is you have a shot to be great today. I think you should take it.”

I follow Cassidy into the room. I hear the whispers and try to ignore them. I step on the stage and face my classmates for the very first time.

I pull the poem out of my pocket, unfold it and place it on the stand. I don’t look at anyone. I look over them. All the way to the back wall. I zoom in on that wall as hard as I can. I tell myself that it’s just me and the wall. There’s nothing I can do about what’s going on in my chest or the pain on my face. So forget it, Sam. Focus on your lines and say ’em like you mean ’em.

Next thing I know, Luis’s voice explodes out of the boom box:

Ladies and gentlemen,

Buckle your belts!

Take a hold!

’Cuz this jumbo jet’s

About to barrel roll!

Everyone starts clapping and whooping.

Like they mean it.

Now, Sam, kick back and blast it, exactly as we practiced it!

I open my mouth and hear myself say the first line along with Luis.…