Page 176 of The Lineman

The kid stiffened like he thought I was about to escort him off the premises.

“You wanna sit with me? I’m kinda nervous and could use the company.” I nodded toward the back.

The boy blinked, his hands tightening into fists in his hoodie pocket. “Um, okay, I guess.”

I jerked my chin toward the row of empty chairs in the back. “It’s where all the cool kids sit.”

His eyes flickered toward the group setting up. “I—”

“No pressure,” I said, hands in my pockets. “I can’t blame you for being unsure. This is kind of a new thing. Feels weird, right? It’s up to you, but you can sit with me. I’m bigger than all of them combined. I’m a safe zone.”

I tossed him a lopsided grin, hoping the smile that worked so well on Mike might disarm a young boy.

He hesitated.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

I led him into the classroom, letting him take the chair beside mine. He didn’t speak at first, just kept his eyes on his sneakers, tapping his fingers anxiously against his knee.

I waited.

Didn’t push.

Just sat beside him, stretching my legs out again, making a show of getting comfortable.

After a long pause, I asked, “So, what’s your name?”

He swallowed. “Jake.”

I nodded. “I’m Elliot, but my really close friends call me El.”

Another pause.

Then, in a voice so small I almost missed it—

“My parents wouldn’t come.”

I turned my head toward him.

He was still staring at the floor, his hands gripping the hem of his hoodie, fingers pulling at threads that weren’t there.

“They’re not angry. I don’t think they are, anyway,” he said quickly, like he had to clarify. “They just . . . They think I’m going through a phase or something. That’s what my mom calls it.”

I exhaled through my nose. “That sucks.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Silence again.

Then, softer—

“I think I almost wish they were mad. At least then I’d know how they felt. But this? Ignoring everything? Ignoring me? It’s like they’re just . . . waiting for me to get over it.”

That hit me like a gut punch.

Because I knew that feeling.

That quiet, unspoken denial that somehow felt worse than rejection. The way it made you feel like you were standing on the outside of your own damn life.

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