What They Always Tell Us (27 page)

“Sure,” he says, rubbing his eyes.

Henry waves gently when he sees them coming. “Hi, James and Alex,” he says with his usual mirthful voice.

“How are you doing?” Alex asks, sitting down next to him.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Alex asks.

“I’m sure.”

“You want to talk about it?” Alex says.

“Yeah, you can talk to us,” James offers.

“I’m kind of sick of talking,” Henry says.

James laughs. “Tell me about it.”

A light breeze picks up and musses James’s already ruffled hair. A few neighbors drive by slowly. “So what happens now?” Alex says.

“Mom says we’re moving to Charlotte.”

“That’s too bad,” James says.

“No, it’s okay,” Henry says. “We’re not leaving till school is out.”

“Why Charlotte?” Alex asks.

“Mr. Pembroke found mom a job there. At a bank. Plus, we’ll be closer to Virginia.”

“Oh,” Alex says. “Closer to your dad?”

Henry nods. “Yeah.” His red hair glimmers in the sunlight.

“That’s good,” James says. “Right?”

“Yeah. Mom says he wants to meet me.” Henry shrugs and picks a scab at his knee.

“Of course he does,” James says.

Alex smiles up at James, and James smiles back.

“It’s funny,” Henry says, still staring down, now scratching his leg.

“What is?” Alex asks.

“I have a dad. I feel different now.”

“Yeah,” James says. “Of course you feel different. It’s kind of like you woke up to a new life or something.”

“Yeah,” Henry says, looking up finally, nodding and smiling. “Do you think he’ll like me?”

He and James trade glances. How could either of them know? Maybe his dad is a big fat jerk. Maybe he will think Henry is odd. But before Alex can reply, James says, with his usual assurance, “Of course he will.”

“Yeah,” Alex says. “He’s going to love you.”

After school and practice on Wednesday, Alex drives to his appointment with Dr. Richardson. For months, these once-a-week sessions have been—to Alex, at least—nothing more than dutiful appearances. He goes because his parents want him to, and all he really talks about is school and how he feels fine or okay. He suspects even Dr. Richardson knows that Alex is just going through the motions. But today he feels a nervous twitch of excitement, even a sense of worthwhile purpose.

“Alex. Right on time as usual,” Dr. Richardson says when he opens the front door.

Alex steps inside the foyer, and then off to the side, to his office. He sits on the lumpy couch.

Dr. Richardson sits on the love seat to his right, his pad of paper resting on his knee. “So, how’s your week been?”

“It’s been good.” He tells him about cross-country, about his teammates. He talks about the SAT and how he thinks he did pretty good. He tells him a little about Henry. “I mean, I’ll be sad to see him go. But this will be good for him, so he can finally meet his father.” Dr. Richardson nods and smiles. Then they both sit there, quiet for a moment.

“Is there something else, Alex?”

“Not really.” He looks over at the bookshelves, filled with heavy psychological tomes and rows of paperbound journals of various hues. “What we talk about? It stays between us, right?”

“Yes, it does, Alex. Just between us. I’ve told you that.”

“Good,” Alex says.

“Is everything okay?”

Alex clears his throat. “Yeah. I’ve never felt happier.”

Dr. Richardson nods. “I can tell.” He pauses, then asks, “Why do you feel happier? Can you talk about it?”

Alex can feel the butterflies in his belly, like they are fluttering around, desperate for escape. Finally he says, “I have a new friend.”

“That’s good.”

“He’s been my friend for a while now,” Alex continues. “I guess you could say he’s more than a friend.”

“Okay,” Dr. Richardson says.

There is no going back now, Alex realizes, but it’s okay. He feels like he is getting lighter and lighter. He smiles, then says, “His name is Nathen.”

James

G
raduation takes place at the end of May, when the heat of summer is sneaking in, day by day, before it takes over completely. The ceremony is held on a Friday night in Coleman Coliseum on the university campus, where Alabama plays its basketball games. A fraction of the seats are filled with rowdy and proud family members and friends of Central High graduates.

James has no idea where his parents and brother are up in that crowd. But he knows they are probably there already, on time—Dad with his camera, of course, and Mom with her tissues. Right now James and the other seniors are milling about on the coliseum basketball court, which has been covered with a red carpet for this occasion. Rows of folding chairs, with an aisle down the middle, face the stage that has been erected. Everyone is wearing the red caps and gowns—a shimmery red, like something a superhero might use for his cape. Most of the boys wear shirts and ties and slacks underneath, while the girls wear dresses.

James manages to find Nathen in the gathering throng, and the two hug each other with exaggerated force. Things between them, surprisingly enough to James, haven’t been weird. Sure, there is that underlying secret about him and Alex, but as each day goes by, James cares less and less. Maybe it should bother him, but it doesn’t. Nathen is still the same Nathen—laid back, cocky, fun, and kind. And Alex is still Alex, but better. He seems happier, more confident.

“So the big night has arrived,” Nathen says.

“Yep. At last.”

“Man, this year flew by,” Nathen says.

Normally James would agree, but the year has also felt slow at times, like it would never come to a close. Still, the past two months did speed along, a whir of school days and weekends packed with tennis matches (the team got third at State this year), parties, homework, papers, the prom (he took Clare, “as friends”), and final exams.

Preston soon finds them in the crowd and slaps them both on the back in greeting. His bushy hair pokes out from under his cap, which looks like it might fall off at any second. “Don’t we look like assholes in these things?” he says.

“Hey, I thought they flunked you,” Nathen jokes.

Greer approaches and mockingly hugs all three of them, fake-crying and saying, “Boo hoo hoo. These were the best years of our lives! I can’t go on!”

And even though for weeks, months even, James has felt a growing distance between him and Preston and Greer—actually, between him and the entire school—he feels a tinge of sadness right now. They all look like an army of dorks clad in red, with their pointy caps like helmets perched precariously on their heads. James is happy to be with them.

He looks around for Clare, and for Alice, but they are lost in the crowd. Alice still has to finish some classes in summer school, but she’s allowed to march in the ceremony this evening.

“Am I still picking you up later for the party?” Nathen asks James.

“Yeah, man.” The unofficial blowout graduation party is later that night, this time at Hank Plott’s house. James is sick of parties, but this one will be bearable. It’s the last one of his entire high school existence, after all. He can’t very well skip it.

Soon they hear Mrs. Lackey—the physics teacher and one of the faculty members in charge of organizing the graduation ceremony—shouting at everyone to take their seats. They all have a numbered chair assigned to them, alphabetically ordered. James finds himself sitting in the third row, between Kim Donald, a majorette, and Jeff Donnelly, a freckled, pudgy guy who James has barely said two words to. But now all three of them chitchat like they are best friends, until Principal Willis marches onstage to get things rolling. Some other faculty members are sitting up there on the stage, dressed in suits and dresses, and the two covaledictorians—Cliff Wetzel and Valerie Towson—are given their prized seats, though neither will give a speech. James is pretty proud that one of the valedictorians is going to Duke, too, even though he hardly knows Valerie. Maybe that will change now. James himself is one of twelve salutatorians—the consolation prize—but none of them gets any special placement tonight.

As Principal Willis starts yammering on about how proud he is of them and how they have great futures ahead, James thinks about next year. Next year at this time, he’ll have finished his first year at Duke. Next year Alex will be the one graduating, the one on his way to college. A year is a long time—it seems impossibly far away. And to think, Alex could have altered everything. This year, next year, all the years to follow—all would be unimaginably different because of one irrational moment. James shudders inside, realizing like never before how lucky they are—how lucky he is—to have avoided such a calamity.

Snap out of it,
he thinks.
You’re at your graduation. Everything is fine now.
And James can see it clear as day: Next year Alex will be sitting here, in one of these uncomfortable chairs, wearing one of these ridiculous red gowns. He sighs, as if releasing a bubble of air that has been trapped inside him.

Before he knows it Principal Willis is calling every student to the stage to receive the diplomas, name by name. There are more than five hundred seniors, but Principal Willis moves the list along at a decent clip. Each time a name is called, people in the crowd cheer and hoot and holler. He watches Clare, one of the first on the stage, march to receive her diploma, walking gracefully. James lets out a holler of appreciation.

Soon Mrs. Lackey motions for his row to stand. Then they march single file to the stage. The line moves forward and eventually he climbs the steps. He sees Clare back in the first row, sitting now with her diploma encased in its red faux-leather pouch, and she winks at him.

“James Donaldson, salutatorian, graduating with honors,” Willis announces into the microphone. It seems insanely loud, but James walks and grabs his diploma. And he is so eager to get off the stage without disaster that he barely hears the applause and the hoots from his friends and the cheers from his family, somewhere up there.

After the ceremony, in the twilight outside the coliseum, Dad makes them pose for countless photos—James and Alex, James and Mom, James and Nathen, James and Nathen and Preston and Greer, James and Clare, the whole family together. Afterward the family has dinner together at Cypress Inn, on the river. Just the four of them.

The restaurant is paneled with blond wood, the tables set with stiff white cloths. Their table overlooks the Black Warrior River, which shimmers peacefully in the moonlight, a contrast to the busyness and hectic activity around them.

“Well, how does it feel, Mr. Graduate?” Dad says, putting down his menu.

“It feels pretty good,” James says.

“Free at last,” Alex says.

“This will be you next year,” James says.

Alex nods and looks down, as if embarrassed.

“So where is this party you’re going to later?” Mom asks.

“Hank Plott’s house,” he says.

“And Nate is picking you up?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Mom says. “He looked so handsome tonight.”

James looks at Alex, who is focusing intently on his menu. Even in the dim light of the restaurant, James thinks he can detect a blush.

They spend the rest of dinner talking about summer plans. James will be a runner at a law firm, which basically means he will be an errand boy, a messenger. He may want to be a lawyer one day—he’s not sure—so it can’t hurt to work in such an office. Alex will take a few classes at the university and mow some yards here and there. He’ll also be running and training with his friends Pete and Jake, and maybe Nathen, before Nathen leaves for NYU. They’ll also go to Gulf Shores a few times for vacation. Nathen is coming along for the second trip, in July.

“Well,” Dad says, “I want to make a toast.”

James and Alex smile at each other, because they’re just drinking Cokes.

Mom holds up her glass of wine. James can tell that she is flush with emotion, dewy-eyed.

“To my two sons,” Dad says, clinking his glass against their mother’s.

Alex and James hold up their sweaty glasses. “To us,” James says, looking right at Alex as their glasses clink.

At Clare’s pool party the next day, the sky is cloudless and the sun is strong. They wear shades and glob on sunblock and keep cool by jumping into the pool, where the water is almost icy cold at first. It is a small gathering—James, Clare, Alex, Suzy, Nathen, and Alice—meant to celebrate the end of school and the beginning of summer. It is also, unofficially, a celebration of their future lives, which will take most of them away from Tuscaloosa. In the fall, Clare is heading to Davidson, a small liberal arts school in North Carolina, not far from Duke, actually. Nathen will be in New York, where he wants to study film. Suzy, meanwhile, is going to the University of Texas. James isn’t sure of Alice’s plans, but he expects she’ll be staying in town, just like Alex.

James is holding on to the side in the deep end of the pool. Nathen is on the diving board, continuing his run of daredevil dives and flips, making the water explode over the edge of the pool. Suzy is floating on her back on a raft in the shallow end, her eyes closed, her heavily lotioned body shining like a new coin.

Alex and Alice are reclining and talking on two of the plastic reclining lounge chairs. Alex is smiling, looking at ease. And Alice is, too. He hears her laughing—her sharp, boisterous cackle that he used to find annoying now sounds appealing and welcome. Her hair is back to its natural color, a light brown, cut shorter, making her look, somehow, more mature. She wears a navy blue one-piece, which contrasts with her pale skin. Alex is tanner, from all the running—though it’s a farmer’s tan, so his chest is pale—and his body has a healthy leanness.

Clare comes out from inside, carrying another pitcher of sweetened iced tea, which she sets on a table that is covered by an umbrella. Then Clare jumps into the deep end. When she comes up for air, she perches next to James.

Nathen does a cannonball and water splatters in every direction.

“He’s a nut,” Clare says, laughing.

Nathen swims all the way to the shallow end and climbs out. His dripping trunks are hanging precariously on his hips before he yanks them up. He heads for the table without drying off and pours himself some tea.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Clare says. Her wet hair is the color of hay and clings to her head like a helmet.

“It’s great.”

Nathen brings his iced tea to a chair next to Alex. Soon, Alice gets up and wades into the shallow end. She dips underwater and swims toward them.

“Alex has really come out of his shell,” Clare says, glancing over at him and Nathen.

“You could say that,” James says.

Alice swims up next to them and treads water. “He’s gonna break some hearts next year,” she says.

“Maybe,” James says. He can’t help himself from smiling at this. He looks at Clare and she smiles knowingly at him, like she is holding in a secret. And maybe she is.

Mr. Ashford comes outside then, carrying a Tupperware container of hamburger meat and hot dogs. “You kids hungry yet?” he shouts.

“Yes, sir!” Nathen shouts back. The others mutter their yeses as well.

“I better go see if he needs help,” Clare says, and climbs out of the pool.

“So, you must be psyched to be done,” Alice says, still treading water.

“I guess so. You’ll be done, too, soon enough.”

“Yeah. Summer school won’t be so bad, I guess.”

“And then what?”

“I may take the first semester off, work. Save a little money. My stepfather says he’ll help me with tuition at Alabama now. So I’ll probably start in January.”

“That’s awesome,” James says.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

“I like you with brown hair. You look good.”

Alice giggles. “Oh, James,” she says, pulling up alongside him by the ladder of the deep end. She splashes him.

He splashes her back. “I just meant that…I mean, you look happy.”

Alice grins and looks away. “Thanks. I’m feeling okay.” She ducks underwater, as if she wants to hide from him. When she comes up, she is still smiling. “Your brother is a doll by the way,” she says. “We’re going to hang out when you leave us for Duke.”

“You are?”

“Why not?”

“Why not,” James agrees.

She shoots him a suspicious look, her eyes slanted.

“I mean it,” he says. “He’ll need some friends.”

“Hey, we all need some friends.”

“That’s true,” he says. In September, he’ll have to start over. He’ll meet new people, make new friends, date new girls. The world he knows now will recede and a new one will open up.

“Besides,” Alice says, “Alex and I…I don’t know. I barely know him, but I feel like he’s a kindred spirit. I know that sounds stupid. I mean, we both thought we hated this town, and all those assholes here. But we like it, too. I mean, it’s what we’re stuck with, you know? This town. This school. The people. It’s not all bad. You can learn to live with it.”

James nods. He glances over at Alex and Nathen, talking together quietly. “Yeah,” he says. “I know what you mean.”