Yep.
Does your so-called life involve that little hot mama from dance class?
Huh?
Oh, really, you’re going to play clueless.
No, she’s just a friend.
What’s her name?
April.
That’s pretty. Aren’t you too young to have a girlfriend?
I don’t have a girlfriend. Plus, I’m almost thirteen.
You’re still my Little Nicky.
Whatever, Mom. Let’s finish playing.
Yeah, you can use the practice.
I’m good, actually. I scored two goals in my last game. You’d know that if you were here.
I heard that.
. . .
Are you giving your father a hard time?
He’s a jerk.
Be careful—he’s your father. And since when is making you do your chores being a jerk?
So you two are talking again?
Nicky, he’s doing what he thinks is best for you.
Making me read the dictionary is best for him, not me.
Your father loves you and he’s—
Blah blah blah.
Don’t make me hurt you, boy.
Can we just play, please?
So we’re okay?
Yeah, as long as you stop tripping me. That’s the only way you scored.
You’re the one trippin’. That was no foul.
Maybe not when you played in the olden times.
If only your defense was as good as your jokes.
How long are you staying?
A few days, but I’ll be back in two weeks.
You should come to my game this weekend. We’re playing in New York, against the number one ranked team in the country.
About that, Nick.
It’s only New York, Mom. We have a ton of chaperones.
I’m afraid you won’t be going to New York with the team.
You’re gonna drive me?
Your father and I have decided you won’t be playing this weekend. I’m sorry.
WHAT?! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!
And Just Like That, Things Are Out of Control Again
You try everything. Coach
even calls Mom to beg her.
But, again, you have no rights.
Dressed in camouflage sneaks
and an army green long sleeved
FREADOM tee,
The Mac sees you
walk in the library
and hollers
(right in front of
everyfreakinbody):
IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR APRIL FARROW,
YOU’RE OUT OF LUCK.
NO BOOK CLUB TODAY, PELÉ.
Then he winks at you, laughs,
goes back to shelving books
and eating his sandwich.
Conversation with The Mac
Cowboys fan? he asks, sneaking up while you’re on the computer. I saw you Googling Dallas.
I’m going to the Dr. Pepper Dallas Cup. My soccer team got invited to play.
This weekend?
In three weeks. This weekend blows.
The weekend’s not even here yet. Think positive.
I had a soccer tournament in New York, but my parents said I can’t go.
Sorry to hear that, Pelé.
Why do parents suck?
Try a different word.
My bad, Mr. Mac. Why do GUARDIANS suck!
Ha! Ha! Who your parents are now is not who they were or who they will be. You may not like them now, but you will.
Doubt it!
You get one chance to love, to be loved, Nick. If you’re lucky, maybe two.
It’s just hard to love someone who cancels the cable right before the Walking Dead marathon.
Shrink
Instead of
playing soccer
in the Big Apple,
today
you’re sitting
in the Center for Relational Recovery
on a pleather couch
between Mom and Dad,
staring at a quote by
a man named Freud
on the wall
behind a,
get this,
psychologist
with a black and white beard longer
than Santa Claus’s,
a red pencil in his mouth,
and a tendency to ask stupid questions:
What else besides soccer makes you happy?
How do you feel when you’re sad?
Do you miss your mom?
All because your bike
got stolen
and you lost
your cool
one night
and then
posted
that you needed
someone
to intervene
between you
and the monsters
and your cousin Julie
told your aunt
who called your dad
who texted Mom
who drove all night
and scheduled
an appointment
with St. Nick
who thinks your post
was a cry for help
when actually
you were just listening
to Eminem
and thought
the song was
kinda nice.
You miss
cinnamon French toast with blueberry preserves
homemade lunches
her headlocks and sloppy kisses
her saying sugar balls when she’s pissed
her cheering at matches
Ping-Pong late Saturday nights
clean clothes on Sunday
double fudge milkshakes after church
dinner with real plates and glasses
her bad horse jokes at the table
both of them holding hands watching TV
family meetings
and, yes,
you even miss the group hug after family meetings
but, no,
neither your mom nor dad
is a monster
and you don’t need
an interventionist.
When Mom Starts Crying, Dad Takes Her Out, Leaving You Alone with the Shrink
Camouflaging your fears doesn’t make them go away, Nicholas.
I’m afraid, okay. Now what?!
Now we try to figure out what to do.
I know what to do. I need to learn how to fight.
You think you need to learn how to fight?
Why are you repeating everything?
There are ways to deal with bullies.
Like what?
What do you think are some of the ways?
I guess if I knew that I wouldn’t be here.
Why don’t you think about some ways to deal, and when you come back for the next session, we can—
Wait, I’m coming back?
Doctor Fraud
We have five more minutes
remaining, Nicholas.
Is there anything
you’d like to say
to your parents?
Other than
it kinda blows
that I’m here
instead of playing
in the soccer tournament,
I’m good.
. . .
Really, I’m fine.
The twins aren’t coming back
to school this year,
and I didn’t really mean
I wanted to be dead.
I just . . . I just think . . . I guess
I was mad, and if
they don’t love each other
anymore, then
they shouldn’t be together.
You only get one chance
to love,
to be loved.
And they lost theirs.
I get it.
Of course we still love each other, Dad says.
We just can’t be together, Mom adds.
Let’s explore that, says Dr. Santa. What do you think about what your parents are saying, Nicholas?
I think being an adult
must be confusing
as hell.
Also, I’m starving.
Are we done?
Chimichangas
The silence
at dinner
is only interrupted
by the chomping
of chips and salsa
at what used to be
our favorite family
restaurant.
How Did We Get Here?
On second thought,
there is something
you’d like to ask
your parents.
According to a brochure
in Dr. Fraud’s office,
adultery is the leading cause
of divorce among Americans.
Principal Miller would agree.
His wife got caught kissing
a man who wasn’t Principal Miller.
Splitsville.
Your Uncle Jerry quit his job
and your Aunt Janice found out
when her brand-new Lexus got
repossessed. Separated.
Coby’s dad and mom
never got divorced
because they were never
married.
But you still don’t know
what happened.
So right after
the first bite of enchilada
you say: Dad, did you cheat
on Mom or something?
Beads of sweat cling to his bald head.
Mom stops chewing and gulps.
But before either can answer,
guess who walks up
in a T-shirt that says:
I Like Big BOOKS and I Cannot Lie?
Introductions
Mom and Dad,
this is Mr. MacDonald,
our librarian.
Dad stands up,
shakes his hand, and
The Mac, in,
get this,
red, white, and blue
bowling shoes,
kisses Mom’s hand.
Dad kinda frowns.
Nice to meet you two, finally.
Sorry for the sweaty palms.
Happens after bowling.
Mom slips her hand in her lap (where her napkin is).
Your son talks
about you all the time.
I hope nice things, Mom says.
Actually, he kinda wants
you to take it easy on him.
Life ain’t been no crystal stair
for young Nicholas here, he adds.
The silence is thick
and super uncomfortable.
I’m just kidding, The Mac says,
and then
breaks out into
a way-too-loud chuckle.
Well, I should get back
to my lady friend. Just
wanted to say hello.
Nick, they’re a lot cooler
than you said, he pretend-whispers to you.
Well, it’s our pleasure,
Mr. MacDonald, Mom says.
Oh, one more thing, Nick.
Did you finish that Pelé book yet?
You lie and say yeah,
’cause the last thing
you need is he and Dad
ganging up on you
over a book
that’s never
gonna get read.
He turns to leave, and
your mouth hits
the table
when you see
The Mac’s lady friend
in red heels
waving
from across
the room is
Ms. Hardwick.
Yuck.
Alarm Clock
Mom, I overslept, can you
drive me to school, please? It’s
too late to take the bus. Sure.
Cool?
How’d you get to school?
My mom.
She’s back?
She was. But she’s gone again.
Why didn’t you call me?
I overslept.
Dude, you never oversleep.
I just wanted to see my mom a little longer.
Yeah, whatever.
You want to come over after school?
Don’t you have practice tonight?
We’re just running today. Coach says we’re ready.
Ready to get demolished like an old apartment building?
We’ll see.
You see what April has on today? Whoa! Be bold, Nick!
Yeah, I should.
Be bold or go home.
I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna wear cool today.
Huh?
No more corduroys and turtlenecks for Nick Hall.
What are you talking about, Nick?
At lunch, I’m asking April to be my girlfriend.
Yeah, right!
Seriously, I am.
What are you gonna say?
That’s corny. Be cool with it.
How would you know? You’ve never done this before.
You either.
My dad gave my mom flowers once.
You gonna give her flowers?
I could, there’s some yellow ones in the library.
Those are fake, bro.
Oh! Yeah, you right. Maybe I’m rushing it. She may not even like me.
Didn’t she already tell you SHE LIKES YOU?
I’m just saying, maybe she doesn’t like me anymore.
Don’t chicken out.
I almost forgot, we have a sub today.
Where’s Hardwick?
All the English teachers are in a meeting today.
Cool, we can play blackjack.
DANG!
What?
I forgot to brush my teeth today.
So.
I can’t talk to April today, like this.
I got some gum in my locker.
I’ll just wait.
What happened to no more corduroys, chicken?
I’ll wear jeans on Monday.
Brawkk-AWK! CLUCK CLUCK!
Not Cool
At lunch she walks by, smiles. HEY,
APRIL, Coby yells. NICK HAS
SOMETHING HE WANTS TO TELL YOU!
Bad
Don’t know if it’s
the fish nuggets
you ate,
Charlene’s perfume,
the egg sandwich
someone’s eating behind you,
or Coby’s leftovers.
Whatever it is
sends you
running
out of the cafeteria
just as the volcano
of butterflies
in your belly
E R U P T S.
After Soccer Practice
Go wash up. I ordered pizza for dinner.
Nah.
Pineapple pepperoni.
Ugh.
You’ve already eaten?
Got a stomachache.
Drink some ginger ale. That’ll help.
It just hurts. I need to lie down.
Are you in pain?
A little.
Come here, let me check your forehead.
Really? C’mon, Dad, I’m not a baby.
You’re hot, Nick.
I just practiced for two hours, Dad. Course I’m hot. Good night.
Maybe you ate something bad today.
Cafeteria food is always bad. We had fish nuggets. Pretty nasty.
I’m gonna run out and get some activated charcoal.
Charcoal? Like for the grill?
Go get in bed, Nick.
G’night.
If you’re sick, you probably shouldn’t play tomorrow.
Oh, I’m playing in the match tomorrow.
Nicholas—
Dad, I’ll be
fine.
We’ll see.
. . .
You wake up at four a.m.
hungry, so you eat. Chips. Coke.
Thank goodness that’s over. Bored,
you even read the Pelé book.
The Big Match
You and Coby
are on teams
that like each other
as much as crocs
and Kenyan wildebeests.
There’s always
a skirmish
during
the matchup.
There’s no beef
between you and Coby,
but you WILL go hard,
come with your A game,
’cause while winning
is wicked,
bragging about winning
is icing
on the steak.
Game On
You good, Nick? Coby asks
at midfield
for the coin flip.
Good enough to beat
your sorry team, you answer.
Not gonna happen!
Pernell,