At least for a little while.
My mouth is on fire. Kristin, Rev’s mother, likes to experiment with the foods of different cultures, and this month she’s on a Thai kick. The table has a platter of noodles in spicy peanut sauce, a bowl of curried beef stew, a plate of massaman chicken, and various roasted vegetables sprinkled with spices. I want a second helping of everything, but I’d like to have some sensation in my taste buds later.
I have dinner here every Friday. It started when Alan decided Friday nights should be family-dinner nights, and I wanted no part in that. Now Fridays are Mom-and-Alan-eat-at-home-while-I-eat-here nights.
Win-win as far as I’m concerned.
I haven’t mentioned Cemetery Girl’s email to Rev.
I’ve read it so many times I could recite it verbatim. I haven’t written back. Yet.
You’re the one who showed me I could be normal. Like this morning, her words light me with a little glow.
It’s been a long time since anyone made me feel like I was good for anything more than taking up space until I could fill a prison cell.
Rev’s parents are still fostering a baby, and the little girl sits beside the table in a high chair, picking at pieces of shredded chicken and cut-up noodles. Her name is Babydoll—for real. I know better than to make a comment about it. Kristin says kids can’t help what they’re named, and she never lets anyone speak negatively about the kids in her care, even when the kid in question doesn’t have a clue what we’re saying.
“You’re quiet tonight, Declan,” Kristin says.
“Just thinking.”
My mind is wrestling with the idea of going to the Homecoming dance. I haven’t gone to a single dance since school started, and until 10:23 this morning, I had no intention of altering that plan.
“Thinking about anything interesting?”
I shrug and force my brain to stay with safer topics. “I didn’t know you could feed a baby Thai food.”
Babydoll shovels a handful of shredded food into her mouth and swings her legs happily. She talks with her mouth full and half falls out. “Ah-da-da-da-da-da.” There’s a noodle in her hair, and Kristin reaches out to pull it free.
Geoff scoops some coconut rice onto his plate and tops it with a third serving of beef. “What do you think they feed babies in Thailand?”
I aim a chopstick in his direction. “Point.”
Rev smiles. “Some kid in Bangkok is probably watching his mom tear up a hamburger, saying ‘I didn’t know you could feed a baby American food.’”
“Well,” says Geoff. “Culturally—”
“It was a joke.” Rev rolls his eyes at me. Geoff is a college professor, but you’d think he’d been born with an encyclopedia in his hands. Once Kristin made a comment about seeing a robin early in the spring, and we spent a half hour listening to Geoff go on about the migratory patterns of birds.
“Take off the tweed blazer, dear,” Kristin teases. “We’re eating.”
“We can’t eat and learn?”
“How is your mom feeling?” Kristin asks me, ignoring him while tearing more chicken for the baby.
I blink at her. “Fine. I guess.”
“I ran into her at the store last weekend, and she said she’s been feeling run down. She thought she might be coming down with something.”
“Nope.” I scoop rice onto my chopsticks and shovel it into my mouth. “She and Alan had an exciting time power-washing the deck yesterday.”
“Oh, good,” says Kristin.
“We should power-wash our deck,” muses Geoff. “Maybe I should rent—”
“Do you want to go to the dance tonight?” I say to Rev.
Both Kristin and Geoff stop short and stare at me.
Rev seizes a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. “Only if you wear that little red sequined number I like.”
“Shut up. I’m serious.”
Rev looks at me sideways. “You want to go to Homecoming?”
“With Rev?” says Geoff. His food still hangs suspended between the plate and his mouth. I can see the wheels turning in his head. It’s almost comical. He’s not homophobic at all. Instead, he’s probably trying to determine if there are signs he’s missed.
“Not with Rev.” I cough to cover a laugh and stab at my plate, pushing food around. “A girl I know asked if I’m going to be there.”
Rev raises an eyebrow. “Who?”
I hesitate, then pull my phone out of my pocket. I unlock the screen and hand it to him.
He reads for a minute, then hands it back to me. “Okay.”
No hesitation. This is one of the reasons why I love him.
“What am I missing?” says Kristin. She puts a spoonful of rice on the high chair tray, and Babydoll immediately grabs a fistful and shoves it into her mouth.
“Are you allowed to go to a dance?” Geoff says.
There’s no judgment in his voice, but it’s another reminder of the rockiness of my own rutted path. “Yeah.” I look back at my plate and poke at a piece of chicken. “If it’s a school activity.”
“Who’s this girl?” asks Kristin.
I hesitate, and then to my horror, I realize I’m blushing. “Just a girl I’ve been talking to.” I follow the baby’s lead and push more food into my mouth. “It’s nothing.”
“Yeah,” says Rev, rolling his eyes. “So much nothing that he’s dragging me to the first dance of my high school career.”
I study him, wondering if I’m missing a note of anxiety under the teasing. I make my voice serious. “Rev, you don’t have to go.”
He chews his food thoughtfully, then swallows. “I want to.” He glances at my phone and smiles. “Maybe I’d like to do something unexpected myself.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
From: The Dark <[email protected]>
To: Cemetery Girl <[email protected]>
Date: Friday, October 4 6:36:47 PM
Subject: Homecoming