But he didn’t tel her that. Man up, Nick, and take it. “I guess so.”
“Okay, but if you don’t feel like it, let me know. You’re stil healing and I don’t want you to do anything to stress yourself.” Yeah, but he was already so far behind he wasn’t sure if there was a shovel big enough to dig his way out of his back work. Any more days and he’d have to repeat a year.
Kill me first.
She brushed the hair back from his forehead before she tested his brow for a fever. “Mr. Hunter said that he’d have a car waiting to pick you up after school and take you to his house. He promised me that it was just an introduction for you and that he wouldn’t make you do anything too hard. You okay with that?”
He reverted to his standard answer. “I guess so.” She rol ed her eyes. “Al right then. I’l let you get your rest.
You let me know if you need anything. Oh, and I had to put those flowers your friends Bubba and Mark sent to you in the hospital out on the front porch. They didn’t real y fit in the house. Leave it to them to overdo it.”
That was one way of saying it. Bubba had practical y sent him a tree, with one little note.
Hospitals wig me out unless I’m the one being tended.
Sorry we’re not there, kid. Get wel soon. Remember next time … Double tap.
Bubba and Mark
Nick watched as she left and then closed his “door.” Rubbing his sore eye, he ignored her talking with Menyara until he heard his name mentioned.
“You think this mess wil stunt his growth, Mennie?” Menyara laughed. “No, chère. Your boy’s going to be a fine, tal man one day. I promise you.”
“I don’t know. My dad was awful y short. Barely five foot four.
I know Nick’s tal er than that now, but I’m scared to death he’s going to stop growing and be a munchkin like me.”
“That’s ’cause you’re Cajuns, child. You’re supposed to be short. Be weird if you weren’t. But Adarian’s a tal , handsome man and his boy’s going to be just like him in looks. Trust me.” Those words made Nick’s blood run cold.
Adarian Malachai was his father and he was a monster. The mere mention of his name conjured up an image of a giant, hulking beast of a man in prison threads, covered in heavy tattoos. Nick had never seen the man when he hadn’t been snarling at everyone around him and shoving people who got near him—including Nick’s mom.
Angry, bitter, and rude, his father was a rare piece of work and he was glad his mother hadn’t married him and given Nick his last name. Even though his Gautier grandparents didn’t want anything to do with them, he stil preferred having their name to Adarian’s.
Malachai. Heck, he didn’t even like the way it sounded.
Bleh.
Nick raised his voice to speak so that they’d hear him. “I’d rather be short, fat, and ugly than take after that man.” His mother sighed. “That man is your father and you’re supposed to be asleep, young man. Not listening in on our private conversation.”
What did she expect when al that separated them was a thin blue blanket? “And you’re not supposed to be talking about me where I can hear it. You always told me that was rude.”
They laughed.
“Go to sleep, Nick.”
Go to sleep, Nick, he mouthed, mocking an order that was easier said than done. Especial y since his pain meds had worn off and his shoulder was throbbing like fire again. But he didn’t want to take any more. That stuff made him too groggy and il feeling. He’d rather hurt than be a zombie.
Besides, if he acted like a zombie, Bubba might mistake him for a hal ucination and shoot him.
Rule One, boy: shoot first then ask questions.
Rule Two: Double tap just for good measure. Better safe than sorry.
Nick smiled at Bubba’s laws until he looked up at their stained ceiling and wondered just how miserable tomorrow would be at school.
Blinking back the agony, he pul ed Nekoda’s Nintendo out of his front pocket. He didn’t know why, but just touching it made him feel better. Like he had someone in the world watching out for him.
How stupid was that?
He turned it on and kept the sound off. His mom had no idea he had this. She’d probably flip out if she did and he couldn’t real y play it with only one hand anyway. Stil , he liked the thought of having it. It made him feel special. Like he was connected to someone not related to him.
Like a girl might actual y like him as something more than just a friend.
He wanted the courage to ask her to go and just have a beignet with him after school. But so far he hadn’t been able to do much more than thank her for checking on him while he’d been in the hospital—which she’d done every time she had a shift. He’d looked forward to each and every one of those visits like a starving beggar getting his one meal a day.