Billy didn’t even have a precious two seconds to make his decision. He fired out, “I was going to the john.”
Mr. McGee quirked his thicker-than-a-carpet eyebrow. “You do know you have to request permission.”
“How am I supposed to do that when you’re not here?” Billy used an even tone so it was understood he wasn’t mouthing off.
“You’re in grade ten. I’m sure you’re more than capable of controlling your bladder until I check in on you. Go ahead and use the washroom. I want you back here right away.”
“Yes, sir.” Billy almost gagged on the word. He scooted around the teacher to the boys’ washroom down the hall. At least he wasn’t asked why he had his backpack.
He pushed on the door and scrambled into the washroom the seniors and OAC students used. He rested his hand on one of the five sinks.
He’d been ready to split. Ready to end high school. René’s eyes from this morning and moments ago were to blame for Billy staying.
The feelings were happening again. He threw on the taps and splashed cold water on his face, but the tingles coating his skin and the quivers running down his spine continued. This was happening too often, especially whenever he stared at the picture of Chris Cornell and Eddie Vedder copping a kiss, or Anthony Keidis laying one on Eddie’s lips. Then there was David Grohl and Krist Novoselic swapping spit at the music awards show.
Sure, it was cool for rock stars to let their mouths do the bump and grind, but not on an Indian Reserve in Northwestern Ontario, the most macho place in Canada. If Hoyt snuck inside Billy’s brain—especially if he dared to drool over an Oshawee—his older brother wouldn’t stop the beating until the last ounce of digging on guys spilled from Billy’s guts.
He splashed more cold water on his face. Droplets dribbled off his lashes, and some soaked the soft curls of his bangs. The heat on his cheeks subsided. He yanked down a paper towel and patted away the cool dampness on his skin. His normal copper-brown color returned, flushing away the rosy hue.
Squaring his shoulders, he shuffled back to the classroom. When he edged through the entranceway, he kept his arms crossed. René remained at the desk, writing. He didn’t even glance up.
Billy slumped in the other desk still squashed beside René’s. “What’re you doing?”
“My homework. Dude...” René set aside his pen. “Are we doing this or not? Make up your mind.”
The flicker of attitude in his impatient reply created a flash of annoyance, but Billy willed away the raw redness. “Yeah, we’re doing it.”
“Then let’s start again.” René picked up his pen. “You said Stu approached you. He wanted... candy. I thought you were being a jerk to him. We got into it. How could we have settled our dust-up, other than the way we did?”
“By believing me.” The plea softly slid from Billy’s mouth. For once, couldn’t someone believe him?
“Maybe I should have, but here’s the thing—you got a bad rep.”
So much for someone handing Billy the benefit of the doubt in a nicely wrapped package. “You got a rep, too. Everyone on the rez knows you don’t want anything to do with ‘skins.”
“Nobody gave me a reason to chill.”
Billy rubbed his pencil. He might not need a dirt bike to impress René, after all. The here and now was Billy’s chance to give René a reason. “What would it take?”
“It doesn’t matter. Look, I’m in grade twelve. I have friends already. I don’t need any more friends. It’s too late for me to wanna—”
“Why’s it too late?”
“It just is. Let’s get back to the report.”
“I thought that’s what we were doing.”
“We are.” René flicked the tip of the pen against the paper.
“I said we could have avoided our scrap if you would’ve believed me. You said you didn’t ‘cause of my rep. I said you also have a rep. Maybe this is why I got in your face? Maybe I don’t like being disrespected either.”
“Considering what you do, how do you expect anyone to give you respect?”
“I deserve it as much as anyone else on the rez.”
“My dad and brother told me respect’s earned. Do you think you’ve done anything to earn respect? My respect?”
Billy ground his teeth. At the elementary school on the reserve, he’d joined in on his buddies’ bullying because he was a Redsky and had a reputation to protect. But when he’d started high school last year, silence had permeated the bus ride into the city. He now spent the fifteen-minute drive sketching, glancing out his window and daydreaming, or people and car watching, while his buddies slept.
“Well?” Impatience was splattered all over René’s question.
“I don’t give anyone attitude on the bus ride.”
“Why’s that?”
“I dunno. It got old.”
“What got old?”
“Being a... jerk.” Taunting, teasing, and throwing snowballs had seemed too childish and not worth the energy.
“Why’s that?”
“You’re sure asking a lot of questions.”
“We’re working on a report.” This time, gentleness coated René’s words.
Yeah, they were doing something special together. “There’s more important stuff going on.”
“You mean studying?”
“Uh...” Hell no. A D-average was good enough. Using his index finger, Billy drew an outline of Cinnamon Bear on the top of the desk. “I’d rather... do my own thing now.”
“What kind of thing?”
“Drawing.”
“Chrome Dome said you’re ace. He said you won awards at Thunder Cloud.”
Billy’s old elementary school on the reserve. “How come you never went there?”
“I’m all about Sir Wil. It’s where my buds hung.” René’s gaze dropped to the paper.
“Didn’t have any homeboys at the red school?”
“As if.” A scowl crept onto René’s face. Then his brows relaxed. “It doesn’t matter. I already had friends, and they went to Sir Wil.” He glanced away and then looked back. “Y’know, Chrome Dome said you’re pretty smart. You’re pulling in a D-average and don’t study. You even miss a shitload of classes. He said if you applied yourself, you’d be an A student.”
“There’s no point. I’m outta here in January. The ‘Peg’s the place to be. North end. It’s a happening ‘hood. My cousins and bro go there quite a bit.”
“You’re turning sixteen in January and moving to Winnipeg?”
“Why not? It sure beats the rez. It sure beats T. Bay. The ‘Peg’s bigger and way more hip.”
“Gonna be like your brother—welfare case, drunk, and dealing candy for the rest of your life?”
Something tight wrapped Billy’s ribs. “Easy to say when you come from the royal family.”
“Wrong. Just like every other residential school survivor, my parents dropped out, too. Thing is, they went back to school. So did my uncles and aunts. They told me an education’s important if you wanna get anywhere in life. You don’t wanna get anywhere?”
“Does it matter? Why does Chrome Dome care anyway?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want you to end up like your brother and cousins.”
This jerk had a triple attitude problem. All he did was shit-talk everyone on the reserve who wasn’t an Oshawee. “And you’re perfect?”
“Me? Perfect? Dude, you’re pointing your finger at the wrong guy.” René scowled at the window.
Huh? Prince Oshawee didn’t believe he was a bag of ketchup chips? Shouldn’t he be stuck on himself for being one cool dude?
René shifted in his seat. He gripped and re-gripped the pen while folding his long legs over the other. Then he sat straight, crossing his ankles. “Let’s finish this.”
Something weird was going on. Only Billy squirmed and shifted about when uncomfortable, not René, Mr. Too Cool for his t-shirt and leather jacket. Did his discomfort have to do with the boys on the reserve hating on him?
Well, Billy was no hater. For sure they’d become friends. They’d be more than friends. If René had some hidden insecurities going on, this meant Billy stood a chance by becoming a cooperative student willing to learn. “Sure. Where were we?”
“Uh...” René rattled the page. “I stopped at earning respect.”
The very reason why they’d gotten off topic. “I guess I had it coming ‘cause, as you said, my rep’s bad.”
“You didn’t have it coming. I coulda cut you some slack, but...” René’s gaze seemed far away. His lips settled into a flat line. “It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “The fact is, I shoulda listened to you.”
“Guess all we cared about was hearing our own... voices.” Billy had his reasons. No one ever listened to him. Everyone made assumptions, even Mom and Hoyt. “I get on the defensive too easily.”
“I... I might jump to conclusions too easily.”
They turned their heads. The edges of René’s irises softened to cocoa delicious enough to sip. His light-brown skin with a hint of red undertones glowed.
Billy trembled. No wonder girls pegged this guy as the bomb. What he wouldn’t give to earn the super-special wide, teeth-baring, eyes-twinkling smile René tossed at chicks and his buddies, especially his main man who always rode shotgun in the truck.
But Billy was a Redsky. The muscles in his shoulders tensed. He wouldn’t beat himself up. They were here, sitting together, working on a project René had agreed to do. He could have used his hot-shot dad to get out of the situation if he’d really wanted to. Nobody told Chief Oshawee no.
René’s skin pinkened. “We should finish.”
His voice skimmed Billy’s backside. Something resembling a blanket swaddled him.
René’s bangs hung in front of his eyes. His sagging shoulders and bowed head mirrored any other dude who got down on himself. He wasn’t the super-special Prince Oshawee who did no wrong or felt no wrong. He was... normal, the same as Billy, needing reassurance he was hip because he was simply René.
Billy tucked his hand beneath him so he wouldn’t lay his palm over René’s smooth fingers and squeeze them. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” René’s jaw stiffened. He shook back his bangs and started writing. “I’ll make a note we both assessed our behaviors and concluded what we did was wrong. Then I’ll write we established a better way to communicate our differences.”
“We did?”
René glanced up. “We incorrectly judged each other based on hearsay.”
“Hearsay? Huh?”
“Hearsay is what we hear from others without taking the time to ask the person for the truth.”
“You mean a rumor?”
“Yeah. Rumor.”
“Just say that. Why all the fancy words?”
“We’re writing a report. I can’t say, Uh-huh, we’re down with each other now. We won’t listen to the hype spread by others. From here on out, I’ll ask my homie upfront if he’s shit-talking me.”
The snigger bubbled up Billy’s throat.
René’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and his cheeks plumped to half-apples. His chuckle feathered Billy’s spine.
“You mean if I’ve gone gansta?” The teasing easily left Billy’s mouth.
“Gansta...” René chuckled again. He tossed the pen on the desk. “I’d say we have enough words for Carlson. We gotta be in his office before the second bell tomorrow.”
What? They were done? But they were only getting started after sparring back and forth until they’d found a groove. More than a groove. They were gelling. Billy was the drumsticks for René to play a beat. They couldn’t be done.
“Um...” Billy had to think up something so this special moment didn’t end. “I can write it out really nice for Chrome Dome.” He shivered at finally wanting to please another person.
“Don’t worry about it. I have a laptop. I’ll type it up when I get home and print it out on Mom’s printer.”
“You own a laptop?” A dude had to fork over an arm, a leg, and his balls for one of those babies.
“Yeah. My parents got it for me to make homework easier. In the upper grades, the teachers toss out stacks this high.” René raised his hand a good foot from the top of the desk.
“Guess they would since you’re in the advanced classes.” Billy and the other dumb-assed spazzes were in the general classes.
“I gotta take the advanced classes if I wanna make university.” René’s smile was cute and closed-mouthed. He had dimples. Not true dimples but sweet lines beneath his cheekbones.
“Cool.” Billy could have stared at René forever. “What you taking?”
“For my undergraduate, BA in political science. I haven’t—” René frowned. “It doesn’t matter. We should book. Where’s McGee?”
“Isn’t he making phone calls?” They seemed to be doing a dance of two steps forward and one step back. At this rate, Billy would never make progress with this guy. Whenever he assumed he was getting close, René switched gears. What was he afraid of? Why couldn’t he keep talking instead of changing the subject?
Mr. McGee swished into the classroom. He leaned on the desk and folded his arms. “How are we doing?”
“We’re finished. I’m going to type up our report tonight after I do my homework,” René said in a respectful tone.
“Good. Good.” Mr. McGee clapped his hands together. “Then you’re dismissed.”
René gathered his books and stood.
How was Billy supposed to get home? The reserve was on the other side of the two rivers. “No wheels.”
“I guess you should have considered your predicament before you started trouble, hmm?” Mr. McGee’s grin was an epic fail of the Cheshire cat’s.
The dumb teacher was lucky René was here or Billy would tell McGee to eat it. “Uh, yes, sir.”
“I’m going to the rez. I’ll give him a lift.” René withdrew his keys. “Let’s bounce.”
And here Eyebrows McGee and Chrome Dome Carlson had thought they’d wrecked Billy’s day. Try again. This was turning out to be the best day of his life.