“I think that’s been established,” Owen said with an uneven strain to his voice. He tugged at his collar and glanced around at the onlookers.
As we neared the Bible Belt, several clean-cut kids in matching T-shirts turned to greet us. “Hey, man,” said one. “Heard you had a great practice last night.” Adam waved without stopping. The guy turned to watch us pass. “May the power be with you.” The Bible Belter put up his fist. “The power of God, that is.” At this, a few cheers rose from the group.
“That was nice.” I looked back.
“Yeah, but they’re always freakishly nice,” Owen said. “It’s their thing.”
“I don’t know them,” Adam said. “I didn’t say hello this time.” He smiled. “See? I’m learning.” The flecks in Adam’s eyes shined golden in the sun. A lock of dark hair slipped over his eyebrow.
“Not exactly what I meant,” I said.
As we neared the Billys’ trucks, more people began to turn, and it became clear that they weren’t looking at us at all. They were looking at Adam. Billy Ray broke from the group, and I had an instinctive, bone-deep desire to run. Science would call this a conditioned reflex. The art of survival. I’d call it high school.
Instead, the three of us slowed as Billy Ray blocked our path. Given that he was the size and shape of a refrigerator, there wasn’t really any other choice. He held a football chest level, smashed between his palms. He tossed it to Adam, who caught it easily.
“I heard Coach is thinking of starting you, Smith.” Billy Ray’s face broke into a wide, fat-lipped grin. He ran his hand over his shaved scalp.
Adam hugged the ball to his chest. “Starting me to do what?” he asked, looking down and hiking his book bag farther up onto his shoulder. A curtain of thick lashes brushed his cheek. If I looked closely I could make out the red slivers behind his ears.
Billy Ray wedged himself between me and Adam, knocking me sideways. He wrapped his arm around Adam’s neck. Ruffled the hair on his head. “The game, man. Football!” He released Adam’s head and shook his own good-naturedly. “You, Smith! Where the heck did you come from, son?”
“I came from Elgin, Illinois,” he replied.
Billy Ray looked over at me as if to say Can you believe this guy? As I said, it was a popular look where Adam was concerned. I pressed my lips together and raised my eyebrows. But truthfully, no, I couldn’t.
“I would like to start playing more football.” Adam bobbed his chin up and down. “That would be good.” It occurred to me then that I’d already been thinking of reasons not to let him. It was too dangerous. We hadn’t studied the possible side effects. His state was fragile. It was only when I heard the hopeful lilt in his voice that I had to consider whether I had any right to tell him what to do at all.
I created him, but did that make me the master of his universe, too? I couldn’t decide.
“Well, good.” Billy Ray thumped Adam on the chest. “Because you keep it up and you’re starting the game. The big one. Two bye weeks and then you better be ready.” He pointed at him with both hands as he backpedaled away. “You, Smith. You’re the man. This is the season. I feel it, buddy. This year.”
As soon as we were out of earshot, I grabbed Adam’s arm. “Group sidebar. Please?” I yanked Owen into the huddle. “I mean now.”
Our heads pushed together, except that I was the shortest so mine only reached to their chins. “They’re starting you?” I said to Adam. “Is this a real thing? Because I’m feeling like this isn’t a real thing.”
“I’m feeling like you’re talking real fast,” Owen chimed in.
“I thought people were being uncharacteristically nice or curious or had all suffered some weird, town-wide aneurysm.”
“I liked it,” Adam said. He was still a man of few words, but even since yesterday I observed that he was just a hair more lively. Less stiff, more natural maybe. “I made friends.”
“You made friends?” I said. “But you have friends. Why the need for more friends? I’ve had one friend for the past eight years and you don’t see me complaining. You already have two friends. Me and Owen. And what, you’re already bored? Don’t you think that’s being just a wee bit greedy?”
“If you lifted your leg, I think you might be able to pee on him to mark your territory.” Owen tilted his head and stared hard at me.
“What’s a ‘bye week,’ anyway? What do you do with ‘bye weeks’? They sound like a made-up term.”
“It means they don’t have games tonight and next Friday to lead up to Homecoming,” Owen said as if he were some authority on the sport now.
I ground my teeth. At least that gave us some time. “Adam, look, these people might be nice to you now, but…”
But it was too late. I didn’t get to finish. Cassidy Hyde had butted her perky behind straight into our conversation.