Tuesday, August 29
(Gus)
Pax starts school today. Impatient took him in yesterday and got him registered, but there was no point in her being late for work today. I'm around. Doing absolutely nothing. Besides, I like this kid. We hit it off yesterday. Sometimes you meet people and you know the meeting wasn't chance. That they need you or you need them, sometimes both. This kid needs someone. He needs friends. I have a feeling he's lacking in that department.
While I wait on Pax, I scarf down a few slices of the banana bread Impatient made last night. When he walks in the kitchen he looks nervous as hell, like puking-your-guts-out or passing-out nervous. I don't want to call him on it and make it worse, so I pretend not to notice. "What's the story, morning glory?" His eyes zero in on the banana bread in my hand. "You want some fuel?" I ask gesturing to the Ziploc bags on the counter behind me.
"Did Scout make that?"
I take another bite and talk through it. "Yeah. It's fucking fantastic."
He smiles, like the fact that I just dropped the f-bomb is the raddest thing he's ever heard. "My mom never cooks. Sometimes I think Scout learned just so I wouldn't starve."
That's a strange comment, because I get the feeling he actually meant it. Like literally. I don't know anything about Impatient's past, except Paxton's mom is her aunt Jane who she talks to on the phone sometimes. And I know about fucking Michael. That's it.
After Pax eats a few slices of bread I suggest we get on the road. "We better jet, dude. Your cousin will murder me and make shark bait of my remains if you're late for day one. She's kind of a stickler for punctuality."
As if on cue my phone chimes from my pocket. It's a text from Impatient. Are you on the road yet?
I hold up the phone so Pax can read the text. He squints a little too, and I make a mental note to ask Impatient if he wears contacts or glasses. He's clearly struggling to read the text. He looks up at me with confused eyes. "Who's Impatient?"
I laugh because I forgot that's how I set her up in my phone months ago. "Sorry, that's Scout."
He thinks for a minute, and then he smiles. "She is a little impatient sometimes."
"Sometimes?" I question. "Damn, you're generous."
He knows I'm kidding. Sort of. He laughs, too. His laugh is restrained, more like a chuckle. Like there's light bound up inside this kid that desperately wants to get out, but doesn't know how. It makes me feel a little bummed thinking about it. I used to take laughter for granted. I was surrounded by it for years. Then the laughter died with Bright Side. I feel like I've had to learn how to laugh all over again. I can relate. We both need to find our light.
As we approach the school, I give him a sidelong look. "Dude, you want me to drop you off in front of the school or down the street? I don't want to tarnish your rep with my shit wagon the first day of school." I love my truck but I know that doesn't hold true for everyone else. And I have a feeling that he's a kid with bigger issues going on. I don't want him to get picked on because some fuck nut sees him get out of my truck and decides to give him shit about it. I'm trying to play preemptive damage control.
He smiles. "Drop me off in front. I don't mind the shit wagon."
"Righteous." I hold out my hand in between us and he gives me a high five.
When I stop the truck, he looks over at me with wide eyes and a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. The expression screams panic. So, I give the Gus version of a pep talk. "Pax, you're cooler than the back side of a pillowcase, remember that. Now go give 'em hell, dude."
He smiles. "Thanks, Gus."
"Sure thing. See you at three-thirty. I'll try to park here. If I'm running late I'll text you. Fair warning, there's a ninety-nine percent chance I'll be running late, because I'm always late. It's who I am."
Guess who's fifteen minutes early to pick up Pax? This guy. I'm kinda proud of myself. I don't want to let this kid down, because if letting him down wasn't bad enough, it's also like letting Impatient down. And I don't want to do that either.
Pax walks out with his head down. I wonder if he walked around all day like that. Trying not to be noticed. Trying to blend in. When he looks up, he smiles. That small smile makes me grin.
"How was day one of the rest of your life?"
"Pretty good." That response was neutral and could go either way. I don't know him well enough yet to read him.
"You meet any chicks?"
He looks at me like I'm teasing him.
I raise my eyebrows. "What? That's a legit question. We're guys, girls rule us. It's a fact of life."
His mouth curves slightly as his cheeks redden.
"Aha. Already got your eye on a little filly. What's her name, dude?"
"Mason." His cheeks have amped the red level to a nine out of ten.
Laughing, I punch him on the shoulder. "I'm taking you to The Ice Shack for ice cream so you can tell me all about the lovely Mason."
I do.
And he does.
It's the happiest I've seen the kid yet.