Rend (Riven 2)

I nodded. It was a systemic problem. Kids in the system slipped through the cracks in school because they didn’t have a support system. They didn’t have people helping them with their homework, or telling them they could live their dreams if they worked hard or joined extracurriculars so they could go to college. A lot of them skipped school because they needed more hours at work, or dropped out entirely, knowing that as soon as they turned eighteen they’d need to be self-sufficient so they may as well start early. And that was to say nothing of the kids who had it bad.

One of the kids I’d worked with last year had a similar story to the one Noé just told me. She was applying for a job and knew they’d ask about it in the interview, and I’d told her that if that happened, she should have them call me. When they’d called, looking for an explanation, I’d told them in every way I knew how: Carla had made a mistake. Carla’s best friend had needed the money. It felt to Carla like life or death for her friend. Their response had been predictable: Carla should’ve acted right instead of valuing her friend more than her responsibilities. I’d lost my temper, shouting at them, “What do you think a kid like her has except the people who’ve proven they’ll stick around? Of course she cared more about the one person who loved her than about a hundred bucks that her boss could afford to lose. Have a fucking heart!”

Carla hadn’t gotten the job. I knew she probably wouldn’t have gotten it anyway, but I’d been beside myself at the thought that she might have had a chance without my fuckup. I’d told Imari she should fire me, but she’d just shaken her head and sent me back to work.

“Listen, Noé, what would you want to do? If you could do anything?”

Noé glared at me. “Doesn’t matter, man.”

“It does! Please, just . . . if you could spend your whole day, every day, doing something, what would it be?”

He stood up and shoved the chair away, furious. “That’s shit, Matt. Fuck you, that’s a shitty thing to ask!” And then he was gone.

* * *

—

I slunk to the train after work that evening, too worn out to even wander around. As I watched the city fade, I pictured Noé’s expression just before he ran out the door.

Hope was the scariest feeling.

As I walked home from the station, I called Grin.

“Yo, yo, Grimace, it’s been a thousand years!”

“I know,” I said guiltily. “Sorry.” I kicked at a rock and watched it skid across the street and bounce into the tall grass.

“Hey, don’t be like that, Matty, I’m glad to hear your voice.” Then he paused and lost the jocular enthusiasm he always answered the phone with. “What’s wrong, bro?”

“Nothing.” I cut over through the cemetery. “I have this client. Man, he reminds me so much of us.”

“Too smart for his own good and devilishly handsome?”

“Yeah, exactly. I think I kinda fucked up with him.”

I told Grin about Noé’s sudden flight.

“Aw, man. Yeah. It’s hard to think it if you don’t think you can have it. Worse to know.”

“Yeah. And ordinarily I wouldn’t have asked. I can usually tell who’s in a place to talk about that. I think it’s because he reminded me so much of us. I pulled a big brother act instead of doing my damn job.”

“You care so much, man. No, it’s a good thing,” he said when I made a noise of censure. “Now that kid knows someone cares enough to ask. Besides, if he freaked that hard, he probably already knows what he wants. So you didn’t raise the issue, just said it out loud.”

“Fuck, talking to you always makes me feel better. Why don’t I call you more?”

Grin snorted. “Cuz you’re a fuckin’ idiot.”

I unlocked the front door and dropped my keys and wallet on the table. Still no Rhys. Still just emptiness.

“So where’s your boy at now? I been watching him on Twitter.”

“You’re on Twitter?”

“Come on, now.”

I walked to the fridge and ran my finger down the list of tour dates. “Phoenix tonight.”

“You should tell him to come to Miami, and I’ll go see his white ass play.”

“I’ll tell him. Oh hey, you’re good at this shit. Rhys’s birthday’s in a couple days and he’ll be gone, but I wanna do something nice for him when he’s back next weekend. Ideas?”

“Psh, you’re married to the guy and you’re looking at me for ideas?”

“Uh. Yeah, but I just want it to be great. You know, because he’s been gone and everything.”

“Well, listen, bro, I don’t think you can go wrong with answering the door in some lingerie holding a bottle of champagne, ya know?”

“Um, yeah, I’m not doing that.”