Twisted Fate(7)
“It’s true,” I said, looking at Declan. I don’t think those even count as anagrams. Weepy Bed Wreck? He’s just making up words.
“I’m simply saying that if you want me to spy on him because you feel hormonally compelled to spend time with him, you might as well just say so.”
Becky looked at me, rolled her eyes, then started laughing again. Declan grabbed me around the waist and spun me in a circle. “Tate’s got a crush!” he said, and then kissed me.
“You know who I’ve got a crush on,” I told him, looking right into his eyes.
He smiled at me, returned the look. “Life’s long, Tate. There’s lots of crushes to have.”
The woods were becoming prettier by the second and I was happy to be there with my two best friends. We walked along the trail out to where it met back up with the road that led to our neighborhood. Then I put the skateboard back down on the pavement.
“Of course I’ll check him out for you,” Declan said.
“Can we please go buy some Doritos now?” Becky asked. “Or cake. Oh! You know what would be good? Cupcakes. My mom made some yesterday. Let’s go to my place.”
“I’m gonna skate,” I told them. The fact was I loved skating when I was a little high. There was a good winding downhill to my house and almost never any cars and it felt amazing to cruise down it right to the door of my house. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye!” they yelled in unison, grinning and looking like the coolest people you could ever spend an afternoon with. I watched them turn around and walk beneath the trees that flanked the sides of the road, leaves just beginning to turn yellow and hope and mystery filling our whole small world. Then I got on my board and leaned into the curve, coasting home.
To: [email protected] From: [email protected]
Dear Dr. Adams, We’d like to thank you for all the help you’ve given Graham over the last year.
As you know, he will be starting school again next week, and we are beginning to feel some trepidation. Kim has mentioned again the possibility of homeschooling—she would be able to stay home with him and has the credentials to teach him, and we feel they have as strong a relationship as a boy like Graham could have with a stepparent. We were wondering if you could advise us. I’m sure you understand our concerns, and I’m wondering if maybe this is the best route to take.
I know you’ve said it’s important for him to get some socialization, and while we essentially agree, the fear and risk of reliving anything close to what happened in Virginia has made us very reticent. We’re concerned that his social life be a healthy one. We don’t want to see any more heartache.
We’ve read the books you recommended about the benefits of combining drug regimens with talk therapy, and in theory we are fully ready to support Graham any way we can, but in practice it seems daunting.
He’s still working on the Austin, and I’m planning on buying him another antique car for Christmas, which I think will also be therapeutic. And we’re getting him that better telescope he wanted. Trying to encourage his healthy preoccupations. His mechanical skills are really quite excellent, and the best times we have together are in the garage just tinkering. Or outside looking at the stars.
We’ve tried harder than anyone to put the past behind us and invested as much as a family can in the health of our child. We’ve come a long way from last year. But I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t still afraid of my own son sometimes. I’m hoping that you can give us the best advice. We agree that his spending should be monitored, and there’s no need for him to have his own source of income at this point. He’s getting his usual allowance, and we make purchases for him. I’m happy to update you regularly as we make this transition.
Also we know that there have been some advancements in the drug regimens since Graham was prescribed, and we’d like to make sure he’s on the best possible plan. Please let us know about any pharmaceuticals you think could make this time easier for him. Thank you again for your support.
Best,
David Copeland
After that first day when we saw him out by his car, it seemed like he was always around. I would almost say lurking around but it was his own house, so I guess you’d just call it hanging out. Most of the time he was working on his fancy car or filming things.
Once when I was practicing some tricks in the driveway he came over and asked if he could film me—you know, doing kick flips and simple stuff.
I shrugged. “Sure,” I said. “Do you skate?” He had the tall, lanky, hair-in-your-eyes look that kinda said skater, so it was a reasonable question.
“Nah,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ll break my neck.”
I laughed and then skated over to him, stepped off the board. “Here,” I said. “Give it a try. You’ll be fine.”
He smiled nervously and put his foot on the board. And when I looked up into his face, his eyes looked really funny. Like his pupils were huge. Big black disks in the center of blue. Whoa, I thought, maybe he will break his neck if he’s going to try skating all messed up on whatever he’s messed up on. He stepped onto the board and just stood there and that’s when I noticed Ally walking down the driveway carrying a wicker lunch basket.