What They Always Tell Us (21 page)

“Your dad called. He and James are having a good time,” his mother says out on the back deck on their last full day. “James really loves it there, so it looks like he’s Duke-bound.”

“Cool,” Alex says. He’s wearing shades and reading a creepy novel about a grandmother who locks her grandchildren in an attic.

“What about you? You have any idea where you want to go to college?”

“I don’t know,” he says, though he has given it
some
thought. But where he wants to go and where he might get in are different stories. His grades are good now, but he is not the high achiever that James is. Plus, he is terrible at those stupid standardized tests. He doubts he could get into Duke, not that he wants to anyway.

“It’s probably time to start thinking about that. You have the SAT in a few weeks.”

“Don’t remind me.”

She sits on the lounge chair next to him, with her own book, a crime novel. “You’ll do fine,” she says.

“Maybe.”

They soak in the sun for a bit, but then his mother starts talking again. “I can’t believe it’s our last day. It’s been nice, hasn’t it? I just wish the boys had been with us.” Her tone strikes Alex as thoughtful, sentimental. Must be the beach and the ocean that do this to her, he thinks.

“Will you be sad when James leaves?” he says.

“Of course,” she says. “But I knew that day was coming.” She chuckles to herself. “I remember when you were born. I already felt so attached to James, so when you arrived, I was so happy, relieved almost, that there was this new little person for me to take care of.”

Alex smiles at the image of himself as a swaddled baby, clutched against his mother, safe and crying, innocent and dumb.

“I never had any siblings,” she says.

Alex knows this already, but he lets her continue.

“When my mom and dad died, I was all alone, really.” She sounds calm now, not teary. “I mean, I had your father, of course, and you two. But if not for you guys, I don’t know what I would have done.”

Alex closes his eyes and listens as the waves lap onto the beach. He hears a few annoying seagulls making their squawking sounds.

His mom continues: “I guess I wanted my boys to have each other.”

Alex nods, not knowing what to say. He can feel her eyes on him, like she’s checking to see that he is actually listening to her.

“You know your brother loves you,” she says. “He may not show it much. But he does.”

Alex nods again. He knows she’s right. But he feels embarrassed, too. It’s like one of those sappy moments in a Hallmark commercial.

As if she recognizes that, his mother stands and says, “I know you think I’m hokey, Alex, but I just hope you believe what I say.” She pats him on the knee and then approaches the stairs of the deck. “Well, I think I’m gonna go for a walk. You want to come?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m okay right here,” he says. He closes his eyes again and dozes off. When he opens his eyes later, he stands up and looks up and down the beach. At first he sees no trace of his mother, but then, when he squints, he sees her, a tiny speck in the distance, getting larger and larger. When she gets closer, Alex waves, and even from so far away, he knows she is smiling.

The drive back to Tuscaloosa on Saturday is uneventful, though it seems longer to Alex, maybe because he is so eager to get back. The radio stations all repeat the same songs again and again, and the sights along the road—the old dilapidated houses, the small churches, the local cafés and mom-and-pop shops—are less interesting the second time around. By the time they get home and pull into the driveway, Alex is exhausted—and relieved to be home.

His father and James greet them outside and help them unload the car.

“Look how tan you are,” his father says, mussing his short hair.

James doesn’t say much as he lifts bags out of the trunk, but Alex can tell he’s in lighter spirits, like the invisible black cloud hovering over him has moved on.

“So you liked Duke?” Alex asks.

“Yeah, it was pretty cool.”

“The campus is gorgeous,” his father says. “All these old buildings of limestone. You’ll love it, honey.”

When Alex goes back outside to retrieve the last bag, he sees Henry on his porch. Alex waves but Henry doesn’t seem to notice him or even look his way. He’s probably off in space, Alex thinks, as he heads back inside.

Up in his room he unpacks his bag, which is full of dirty clothes that smell of the beach, sand, and suntan lotion. What he really wants to do is call Nathen. But Nathen won’t be home until Sunday, and Alex resigns himself to waiting.

Later they order pizza for dinner and sit in the TV room, but mostly Mom grills James about Duke and the trip. James is more animated than Alex has seen him in a very long time, going on and on about Duke and the classes he might take and other prospective students he met.

After dinner Alex goes up to his room. He has plenty of schoolwork to catch up on, stuff he avoided over the break, but the thought of doing any of it bums him out. He would jog, except it’s now too dark out. The truth is, he doesn’t feel like doing much of anything. He has carried the relaxed lethargy of the beach home with him.

He’s just about to crawl into bed when James knocks on his door and comes in without waiting. “Here, I got this for you,” he says, tossing a gray T-shirt his way. Alex opens it and sees that it says
DUKE TRACK AND FIELD
in blue letters.

“Oh, cool. Thanks,” he says, surprised that James would even have given him a thought while at Duke.

James nods and walks to Alex’s window. He lifts a blind and looks out. “Henry is still out there,” he says.

“What?” Alex joins him at the window, and sure enough, Henry is still sitting on the porch. “That’s weird. He was out there earlier.”

“And I saw him out there before we ate dinner.”

Without saying anything to James, Alex laces up his sneakers and grabs his jacket. As he heads downstairs, he can hear James following him. Together, outside, they cross the street and march right up to Henry. He is still sitting on the steps, elbows on knees, looking down at the ground as if watching for ants.

“Henry? You okay?” Behind Henry, the house is mostly dark, though Alex can see a trace of light burning behind the living room curtains.

Henry finally looks up, wearing a blank look, like he hasn’t heard Alex but has at least registered his presence. “Oh, hi, Alex. Hi, James.” Then he looks down again.

“Henry, is something the matter?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Where’s your mom?” James asks.

“She’s inside,” Henry says. “But I’m mad at her.”

“Why?” James asks.

“She says we have to move away again. Maybe.”

“What? Why?” Alex says, not bothering to conceal the alarm in his voice.

“I don’t know. She didn’t say why.”

“There has to be a reason,” James says.

Alex sits down next to Henry and tries to think of what to say. But nothing comes to him. He looks over at James, who’s standing in the middle of the walk with his hands in his pockets.

“Maybe she’s just upset,” James says.

“Yeah, that could be it,” Alex says, urging Henry to agree.

But Henry is silent. Alex knows Henry has been through this before. The moves from one town to another. Why should Tuscaloosa be any different? Still, Alex wants to do something, say something.

“I don’t want to leave,” Henry says so quietly that Alex isn’t even sure he hears him correctly.

They stay for a bit longer, in sulky silence. Alex knows there is nothing that he can tell Henry that will make him feel better. Instead, he wants to go inside the house and shake Mrs. Burns, ask her what she is doing, uprooting her kid like this again and again. And for what? But Alex can’t do this. He knows that. Kids can’t do such things to adults. Manners and respect and decorum—these are the things his mother always tells him are the most important qualities a young man can have.

“It’ll be okay,” Alex says, knowing his words are empty and unpersuasive. Henry just nods and, all of a sudden, stands up and goes inside.

“That went well,” James says.

Alex frowns and then they both walk across the street. When Alex opens the door, the heat from inside blasts him like a slap of guilt.

The next day, Sunday, Alex tries to catch up on some homework, but he is distracted. He keeps waiting for the phone to ring to announce that Nathen is finally back. He also can’t help looking out his window, expecting to see Henry. But all day there is no sign of him.

Finally, after a steady diet of junk TV and halfhearted attempts at reading for English class, the phone rings, and it is Nathen.

“You’re back,” Alex says, as if he hasn’t been sitting around waiting for this very moment.

“You wanna come over?” he says. “My folks went to their campus offices to catch up on some stuff.”

“Sure,” Alex says, feeling his stomach lurch.

He puts on his running gear and tells his mother that he and Nathen are meeting at the rec for a jog. It’s only half a lie, and he’s not even sure why he said it. Maybe in case James asks where he went. Then he drives to Nathen’s, because walking would take too long.

When Nathen opens the door, Alex is almost surprised that he looks the same—same black hair, same light brown skin, same dirty green eyes, same big dimpled grin, same prominent nose. When they hug, he feels a balance restored inside his body.

“Look at you,” Nathen says, pulling back and looking Alex up and down. “You’re so tan. You’re almost my color now!” He laughs.

“Yeah, well, the sun will do that to you.”

Nathen smiles and says, “Wiseass.”

Back in his bedroom, they sit on his floor, backs against the bed, as Nathen tells him all about New York. “It was nuts, man. Very cold, but still an awesome place.” He describes NYU and Columbia, telling him they were both great but different. “NYU is in the middle of the city, but Columbia is further uptown and has a real campus, like Bama’s but smaller.” He says he met students, observed classes, took tours—pretty much what it sounds like James did at Duke. He and his parents saw a few Broadway shows and ate at nice restaurants. “We went to this swanky place on Park Avenue. I had to wear a tie, even. But I had the best steak in the world. There were
so
many places to eat there. You walk one block and there are like five different restaurants. And places to shop. And bars. And museums. There’s so much going on there.”

“Sounds more exciting than Gulf Shores.”

Nathen looks over at him, breaking out of his New York reverie. “But you had a good time, right?”

“Yeah, we had fun. It was relaxing.” He doesn’t tell him that he missed him.

Nathen gently slides his hand to Alex’s and starts rubbing. “You’re quiet today.”

“I’m just listening,” he says. He smiles to reassure Nathen, though his smile is hard to pull off.

“I’m glad to be back,” Nathen says. He grabs Alex’s hand and squeezes it. “I missed you.”

“Liar,” Alex says, smiling as he says it. Because it’s exactly what he wants to hear. What he has been waiting to hear—and what he has been waiting to say himself. Nathen reaches in and they start kissing. Gently at first, then ferociously, like they’re making up for lost time. Nathen’s light stubble tickles Alex’s chin, but he doesn’t mind. They keep going until they hear the front door jiggle open.

“Damn. Mom and Pops are home,” Nathen says, but not in a panic or anything. He’s the usual calm Nathen.

“I better go home anyway,” Alex says. “Got a ton of homework to do.” Though, really, he wants to stay. Part of him never wants to let Nathen out of his sight again.

“Coach is gonna kick our ass this week,” Nathen says.

“No kidding.”

“Our first meet is next weekend.
Your
first meet. Can you believe it?”

“No, not really. It’s crazy, but I think I’ll be ready.”

“Of course you will.”

They stand and embrace and then kiss one last time, careful to listen for his parents’ footsteps, though his door is shut. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Nathen says.

Alex nods. He manages to avoid Mr. and Mrs. Rao on his way out, and he’s thankful for that. Not that he doesn’t like them—they’re both super nice—but he always feels like he’s wearing a scarlet mark on his face when he is facing them.

On his way home Alex can’t help remembering that, a year from now, Nathen won’t be here. He grips the steering wheel tightly. He will just try not to think about it. Besides, there are many days left—weeks, months—before Nathen leaves him.

The next day at school everyone seems tanned or rested and in good spirits, despite being thrown back into the drudgery of everyday routine. Alex overhears tales of spring break—ski trips and keg parties on the beach and visits to big cities, even some woeful tales about being stuck at home—but no one asks him where he went or what he did, which is just as well.

After English class Alex makes his way past the cafeteria to the library. But this time he pauses in front of the library doors. Through the glass panes, he can see the other regulars—Jess, already surrounded by his books and papers, and Valerie, quietly absorbed in a novel. And though he can’t see her, Alex is sure that the sour-faced librarian is in there, too, shelving books or rearranging her desk.