Seven Days in June(37)

The second time, he was a third grader in a DC juvenile detention center, and a guard was mercilessly kicking his ass for sleeping through lunch. Shane kept fighting back, a mad-as-hell Mighty Mouse with rapid-fire fists. Finally, the guard knocked him off his feet with a quick, decimating blow to the jaw—and Shane purposely used his arm to break his fall. Bone, broken.

Oh, he realized. I’m a person who doesn’t know when to stop.

Another time, he was a twelve-year-old in the schoolyard. In a school full of rowdy, troubled misfits, Shane already had a reputation for being the craziest. In front of a crowd, some girl dared an older kid to crack him over the head with a Snapple bottle. Just to see what Shane would do. In a flash, Shane had the older dude in a headlock and then flung them both against a brick wall—elbow first. Bone, broken.

Oh, he realized. I’m a person people watch for entertainment.

Later, at seventeen, a loudmouth knucklehead was bullying the new kid. And to save her, Shane whacked him in the face with his casted arm. Bone, broken.

Oh, he realized. I’m a person who’ll do anything for this girl.

Before Eva had so dramatically collided with him on the bleachers, Shane had felt like he was slipping away. And there was certainly no school counselor, no parent, no concerned social worker grounding him to the earth. Then he met Eva, and she breathed the same air. She stuck to his bones, imprinted herself on his brain—and thoroughly rearranged his world, in the best way.

Stop thinking about the past. Start thinking about how you’re going to explain yourself to this woman.

Shane was mired in these thoughts when his phone vibrated on his arm (where it was slotted in his Nathan iPhone armband, rated Best Accessory of 2019 by RunnersWorld.com). He froze abruptly on the path. A few paces behind Shane, a group of baroquely mustachioed and muscle-bound Bushwick dudes skidded to a halt seconds before they would have body-slammed into him.

“The fuck, bro?”

The near collision didn’t register, because Shane was too busy praying this was it. The moment. Eva finally wanted to talk. He issued a silent plea to the universe that he was right, and snatched the phone out of his armband.

It was Marisol, Datuan, Reginald, and Ty. Four of his favorite students had texted him, one after the other.

Wiping sweat from his forehead and drooping with disappointment, Shane zigzagged through the joggers to a small stretch of Emerald City–green grass to the left of the path. Finding an empty spot, he collapsed on his back, exhausted and winded.

So Eva still wasn’t speaking to him. But hearing from his kids was second best.

Like he did with Ty, Shane promised all the students he mentored that he’d always be available. These were at-risk kids. None of them had real parental figures, and he’d happily stepped into the position.

Shane strongly doubted he’d have his own children. He didn’t trust his DNA. And the question of who his birth parents were—well, he had a feeling it was better not knowing. But for a misanthropic nomad with no professional training in mentoring teenagers—and whose own teenage years could’ve inspired a chilling docuseries on Vice TV—he owned the role. It fit him almost too comfortably. Shane’s life as a teacher hit harder and was more rewarding than making it onto a bestsellers list.

He was probably too attached to surrogate-parenting other people’s kids. There’d been a few moments, like when Bree, his favorite student in Houston, was strong-armed by a cop after a neighbor called the police on her loud-but-innocent sweet-sixteen party, when his investment spilled over into something unhealthy. His reaction was thunderous, and it was the first (and only) time he felt unsteady in sobriety. But he loved those kids. They needed him. And Shane never actually slipped, so it was worth the risk.





Today, 7:57 PM

Marisol


MR. HALL!! Is cat food poisonous when people eat it? Mistakes were made.





Today, 7:59 PM

Datuan


Wuts good. Funny shit. Principal Parker thought WTF meant Well That’s Fantastic.





Today, 8:02 PM

Reginald


Sup broke up wit Tazjha shes a bad GF told her actions speak louder than wombats

*wombs

WORDS WORDS *WORDS

Fucken autocorrect





Today, 8:06 PM

Ty


Wyd

I like the planetarium



Shane’s brows crinkled in surprise. Ty didn’t like anything! And if he did, he certainly never articulated it. He barely articulated anything at all. Shane’s entire goal in setting up the internship at the planetarium was to get him invested in something, show him what it was like to pursue a passion. Shane glanced up at the sky. He wanted to be home before night fell, in case Eva stopped by. He had time for a call.

“Ty! What’s good, dog? I got your text.”

“Yeah.”

“You like the planetarium internship?”

“It’s aight.”

“Tell me about it. Why do you like it?”

Silence.

“Ty?”

“I’m shrugging.”

Shane sighed. He really needed to work with Ty on his communication skills.

“You just said, ‘I like the planetarium.’ That’s a powerful declarative statement. When you express an opinion, you should be prepared to support it with viable evidence. You enjoy it, based on what?”