“He ran until he wasn’t fat, but he was still a weirdo.” Dante points to his chest. “Inside. Like me. Then he found us, so he’s sticking to us.”
I turn away and grab a hand towel, trying to gather myself together. “He said that?” I hand him his toothbrush back.
“He said he knows we’re the only ones that know he’s Bruce Wayne.”
Not Batman, or badass, or any other part of the persona that he’s been fighting against that’s genuinely not him. And it doesn’t matter how many times he tells the world otherwise, or what actions he takes, because of the way he looks, because of his ability to carry a football, he’s placed on a pedestal. A pedestal, he can’t stand.
It’s all I can do to keep from crumpling as his spitting image turns to me.
“Can I pick a story now?”
The next morning, I pour Dante’s cereal at a loss for another excuse when my phone lights up with Troy’s name. It’s like a knife to the chest.
I slide to answer my heartbeat in my throat. “Hey.”
“Hey, can I talk to him?”
“Of course. Can I just ask if you’re okay?”
“Fine. I don’t have much time.”
“Okay.” I feel the shake in my voice as I call Dante. “Baby. Troy’s on the phone.”
Dante runs in, grabbing my cell from my hand.
“Hey, Troy. I saved you some cereal.” Dante rearranges a few magnets on the fridge as Troy speaks. “Sorry. Mommy says I can’t have my phone on until after school.” It’s apparent he didn’t even want to call my number. He doesn’t want to have a thing to do with me. I grip the chair at the kitchen table as I try to absorb that blow.
“You coming over? Oh,” his voice dips in disappointment as does my heart. “Tomorrow then, maybe?” Another pause before Dante glances up at me. “Let me ask. Mommy, can I go with Troy and Nonny tomorrow after school? Please?”
“Sure.”
“She says yes. Uh huh. Okay. Okay. Love you. Bye.”
Dante hands the phone back to me. “Hey.”
He’s already gone.
Troy
“Thanks, Mom,” I tell her as she piles the eggs on my plate. Fresh off the clock, I was about to crash when Mom dragged me into the kitchen. I’d managed to get a few shifts back part-time at UPS after I quit working with Kevin. I’ve been avoiding his calls, along with anyone else that doesn’t have to do with my immediate future. Kevin texted last night asking to meet up, but I didn’t reply. I’m sure part of it was to reach out again and apologize. But I know another part is because the librarian finally crushed his hopes.
I’m still too pissed to talk it out with him. I could have lost my son because of his stupid fucking experiment with something he had no business messing with. I could blame it on the coach and his unrealistic demands, but the simple truth is, he fucked up, like many of us do. And I know more than anyone how lousy timing and shitty circumstances can ruin a person. Ruin lives.
When I cool off, I know I’ll eventually reach out. Kevin would never intentionally or unintentionally hurt Dante. And he deserved a fair shake with that girl, but that’s not real life. In real life, there’s a million other Kevins out there suffering from the same type of unreturned affection. Another first-hand experience I can relate to.
I feel for him, but I can’t handle anything more. At this point, it’s too much. After leaving the house on Ohara, there was no way to get my head straight staying with friends, so I played it safe, burying my head in the books and work after taking my mother up on her offer to use her spare bedroom. The upside is I’ve gotten to know Luis, and he seems to be a great guy.
“Morning,” Luis walks into the kitchen, kissing my mother soundly before clapping a hand on my back. “I guess it’s good night to you?”
“Yeah,” I say as he grabs the lunch my mom’s just readied for him.
“Thanks, baby. See y’all later.”
She sends him off with another kiss, and I can’t help but feel happy for her and take note of the light in her eyes as they follow him out the front door.
“I like him, Mom. I mean that. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thanks, baby. He is pretty amazing, isn’t he?”