Page 10 of The Boy Who Loved Wicked
“I think it’s going to take an older man to capture your interest,” she said.
“Ew,” Danny said.
“Not that old, you moron. Pheeny’s too mature for the mouth-breathers in our age bracket. It’ll never work.”
“He hasn’t even tried,” Danny said. “He needs to put himself out there.”
Theory twisted in his direction. “Name one person that you believe would be a match for Pheeny.” She stalled him with a hand. “A male, Danny. One that prefers other males.”
“I know that,” he scoffed. His brain worked for a few minutes. A painful experience for him, no doubt. “Mason Jones,” he said at last.
Mason was a senior too and a bit of an introverted nerd, except numbers were his thing. According to Theory, he clicked “like” on all my posts. But he always turned away whenever our gazes happened to find each other in the halls. He fell under the tall, dark, and handsome category—TDH as Theory dubbed it. I wasn’t blind, after all.
“I guess he could be a potential candidate.” She mulled it over. “You’re both super into academics, although your strengths are in different subjects—”
“Do I get a say in any of this?” I laughed.
“No,” Danny deadpanned. “We don’t trust you.”
Theory pushed up, facing me with her legs crossed. “Pheeny, in case it hasn’t clicked yet, this is your birthday gift. Your birthday was almost two months ago,” she whispered.
I didn’t celebrate my birthday. Danny and Theory would always surprise me at some later point in time.
“All you’ve got is us and your books. We want more for you,” she said.
Out of the three of us, I was the only one that didn’t want to socialize outside of our circle. I’d told them more than once that they could expand their contacts, but I’d been met with nothing more than an eye roll every time.
At the sound of clapping I shushed them, giving my attention to the stage. The first performer of the night came out and sat under the spotlight. She had an afro, and tapped the mic twice to test that it was working before adjusting the height of the stand and saying hello to the crowd.
She introduced herself as “Floetic” before passionately reciting an original titled:Weight of the World.
“At the end of my day fear departs me because the day is no longer a mystery.
“What was meant to be has been settled and I have eluded the clutches of peril.
“At the end of my day is my favorite part of the day.
“But the end of my day ends once my head meets pillow and a fresh seed of fear begins to bloom.
“I leave the moment behind and look ahead, and I wonder about what awaits me.”
For the next hour the only part of me that moved was my chest as it rose and fell. Sucked in by the verses, entranced by their spell. I vaguely remembered a “wow” coming from my right where Theory lay. And “the ladies are gonna love this” coming from Danny on my left.
Theory and Danny knew my father. They’d be pulled into our games and trivia pursuits whenever they were around. They adored him and felt his absence too. But there were no before-and-after-my-father versions of Danny or Theory. Just a natural progression of age and maturity that we all suffered with time. The same wasn’t true for me. And every once in a while they’d do these things for me. Things like buy me a seven hundred thousand dollar first edition ofThe Founders Of The Western Worldfor only twenty-bucks on eBay. I didn’t have the heart to tell them it wasn’t real, and it held its position proudly on Dad’s bookshelf. They helped in their own way to keep him alive for me. I loved them for it.
As the night came to a close, I peered at Danny fussing with his itchy pants, and Theory, monitoring the stars and checking for government drones. We were a band of rejects, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We made our way, side by side, out of the park and to Danny’s car. I was in the middle.The glue.
“So, did you love it?” Theory asked, with a self-satisfied sway of her hips.
“It was freaking amazing. I especially liked the guy that ended the show—”
“The Wordsmith,” Danny supplied.
“Yeah, him. And Floetic. They were my favorites.” I threw my arms over them as we ambled along, and they brought their heads to my shoulder.
“The end of my day was my favorite part of the day.”But I wouldstayin the moment and not wonder about what awaited me. I’d at least try to.
