Stupid Fast

Chapter 31: ALEAH AGAIN




One early morning in the middle of July, at the end of the paper route while we were slowly rolling home, sort of zigzagging our bikes and crossing real close, Aleah said, “I’m considering changing my schedule, Felton.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, pedaling past her.

“You know, summer isn’t that long.”

“Already seems like forever,” I said.

“Well, summer term at the college ends at the end of the month. Daddy is aching to get back to Chicago.”

I hit the brakes and skidded to a stop. Then Aleah stopped a few feet ahead of me. She turned back and stared.

“You’re leaving at the end of July?” I asked, my stomach sinking.

“Maybe not exactly at the end. But pretty soon. Daddy’s got article deadlines in August, so he wants to get back to work with his co-author. You knew we were leaving.”

“Yeah, but I just figured it’d be later…Like the day before Gus comes back, right before school starts.”

“No,” Aleah shook her head.

“Oh, no.”

“That’s what I’m saying, Felton. I want to change my schedule so I’m awake during the afternoon so I can see you more.”

“But I’m not around in the afternoon,” I said, feeling dizzy.

“Where are you?” she asked.

I got off my bike, and rolled it up to the curb, and then dropped it and sat down.

“I just do stuff, Aleah.”

She followed me over to the curb, put her kickstand down on her Walmart mountain bike, and then sat down next to me.

“Can’t you change your schedule a little?” she asked. “I want to see you more.”

“I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why? Do you need to drive around with your football friends?”

“I don’t. I don’t do that during the day.”

“What do you do?”

“I practice.”

“With your football friends?”

“No. Alone. I practice running, I guess. Or maybe it’s more just moving?”

“Oh my God. You’re so weird, Felton. You practice moving?

“Yes.” I looked down between my knees because it did sound dumb.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You know…Why do you practice?”

“I know if I’m good at piano, I can play in front of a thousand people who’ll light up like Chinese New Year. They’ll shout and scream, and there will be all kinds of fireworks blowing up everywhere. Practicing for that makes sense!”

“Yeah.” I clearly didn’t practice running up a hill so crowds would clap for me—although I liked it when hikers were astounded by my running. I moved because I liked to move, I guess. “But is that why you play piano, Aleah? Because of Chinese New Year?”

“I guess. So I can perform for big…” She thought for a moment. “Also…Also because I know everything when I’m playing. Everything makes sense.”

“That’s it!” It hit me. While running on the Mound, I knew everything I needed to know. I knew everything. And whereas hippy crystals never helped me nor whispering Gus’s name in fourth grade, knowing all I needed to know completely helped. “Me too, Aleah. Everything makes sense. So I have to move in the afternoon.”

“You’re so weird, Felton Reinstein. It completely stuns me. I mean, ‘move’? How weird.”

“I know. Don’t tell anyone.”

“You’re weirder than me,” she sort of whispered, staring.

“Shhhh.” I gestured with my hand.

“It hurts my heart. I just love you.” She shook her head.

I nodded.

Then we kissed for about twenty-five years, I think.