Invincible Summer(46)

“I will absolutely.”

Claudia mumbles, “College is stupid,” and starts picking olives off her pizza. I think her disdain for Camus has extended to include all education. “Noah,” Mom says quietly, eventually. “Noah, what are you going to do for a job, sweetheart?”

He shrugs and takes a bite of his slice. “Whatever I need to do, I guess.”

“No,” Mom says. “What are you going to be able to do with a degree in sign language?”

“Talk to my little brother, hopefully.” He looks down at the floor. “I’ve come to believe that that’s important.”

I wonder how Melinda would feel about this.

I think I’m proud.

My father says, “What kind of career—”

“Jesus Christ,” Noah says. “If one more person tries to talk to me about a career I’m going to f*cking explode. Like having a career is some necessity, like it’s the same as having a family. Like those are two things to balance.” He shakes his head. “I could be an interpreter. Whatever.”

Dad says, “Listen, Noah, we’ll get you some tapes or something. Don’t waste your college years on something you could learn from a few books, yeah?”

“Dad, what can you major in that you can’t learn from a few books? What do you want me to major in? Engineering?”

he points at Dad, then Mom. “Psychology? So I can do what, have five kids and divorce my wife?” He shakes his head. “I can do that just fine with a degree in sign language, thanks.” He looks to Claudia for support, but she’s totally not looking at him, just flipping through the newspaper. She decided, somewhere between now and when she started going steady with Shannon, that she is anti-conflict. Or at least focused on real conflicts. She quotes statistics about people in Africa or Washington, D.C., like we quote The Stranger or Return to Tipasa.

Gideon stamps his foot so I’ll look at him and rubs his fingers together like there’s something between them—that easy sign for what’s going on?

I try to catch him up and pay attention to Noah at the same time.

Dad says, “Noah, the way to prove your point isn’t to be so f*cking combative all the time—”

“Oh, should I just walk out, then?” Noah throws his pizza crust onto his plate. “Because I know how you love it when I do that.”

I’m telling Gideon Noah learn sign school when Gideon gets all upset and starts signing no no no all over the place.

“We just want you to have a good future,” Mom’s saying.

“Oh, yeah, and I’ve really been prepared for that. Good thing you started giving a shit about my upbringing now.”

“Goddamn it, Noah, show some respect!” Dad yells.

“I don’t have any f*cking respect!” “Guys?” I jerk my thumb over to Gideon.

He’s standing on his kitchen chair, throwing pizza crusts at Noah to try to make him turn around. He is also yelling in that tongueless voice of his.

He points at Noah with his whole arm. Sign not school.

Noah signs, Help you.

No. Sign life mine. Not yours.

For a minute Noah just stands there, and I see him melt.

It’s like everything he’s ever done and hated—and there’s a lot, you can see it in the way he bites his lip—is melting from the top of his head into a puddle on the floor, and now he has to stand in it.

I’m scared he’s going to drown.

And he looks at me, and I see everything in his brain spinning around, everything in him realizing that he doesn’t belong in his family, that he’s the only one of us who needs classes to talk to Gideon, that all this time all of us, even him, have been wondering why the f*ck he had to run all the time when the real answer is that we pushed him because he wasn’t good enough and we did not have time to wait.

He doesn’t fit in with any of us.

Expect for me.

Except for me, and that’s why he’s looking at me. And

that’s why he’s walking to me and holding out his arm. And I am going to him and gripping his shoulder because I need something to happen, the same way I needed something to happen last year, the first time I went to Melinda. I can’t sit in this house anymore. I need a push, and I never thought I would be lucky enough to get it alongside this brother.

They just need an older brother. Noah needs me.

“Bye,” I whisper, on our way out the door.

Running away is obviously Noah’s area of expertise, so I try not to protest anything he does. Even when we leave without bringing the six-pack of Coke sitting on our steps, the one Gideon complained was too heavy and left there post–grocery shopping. Even when he stops at the Hathaways’ house and picks up Melinda.

It’s hard to keep quiet for this one. I’m okay with riding in the back. I’m not okay with who’s now riding shotgun.

Melinda!

“So.” She smoothes her dress over those legs. Why, why does this girl look like sex? I thought sex was supposed to be awesome.

Noah says, “We need to go buy some presents for Chase.”

“Oh?”

“Tomorrow is his seventeenth birthday,” Noah says.

Maybe it won’t totally bite this year. But considering I’m totally running away with Noah and Melinda the day before . . . I’m thinking it will.