Page 92 of My Life with the Walter Boys
I gave him the waterfall job so I wouldn’t have to see him, but as Alex opened his mouth again, I’d wished for a second that I sent him along as well.
“I’m really sorry about last night,” he told me for the millionth time. He was standing a few feet away from me with a garbage bag clutched in his hand.
“Alex,” I said, plucking a cup off the sparkling grass, which was wet with morning dew. I dropped it into my own bag and caught a whiff of stale beer. “How many times do I need to tell you? Stop apologizing.”
“I just feel bad that you had to put up with Malcolm all night.”
I knew he was really worried that I was judging him based on his friend, but I honestly didn’t care that Malcolm was weird. As long as I didn’t have to hang out with him again, I’d be fine. I was anxious about not getting everything cleaned up in time, and if Alex had spent as much time cleaning as he did being nervous, we might be done already.
“He wasn’t that bad,” I lied. “Let’s just focus on getting this done.”
“Are you sure?” Alex asked, and I gave him a death glare. “Okay, I get it! More cups, less talking.”
It was a miracle, but we managed take care of the party mess before Katherine and George returned. By the time they pulled into the driveway, Nathan and I were already studying for our exams. We didn’t have any classes together, but Nathan asked if he could work in my room with me. He was having a hard time focusing in his own since Alex was trying to get in a quick round ofGoGbefore his parents got home.
An almost-summer breeze wandered in through my open window, brushing against the back of my neck and cooling my sticky skin. Frustrated with all the different dates I needed to know for my history exam, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall. I tried to relax, but it was impossible with Nathan’s music. He had headphones in, but I could still hear the heavy beat of some rock song. It didn’t really seem like his thing, but his head was bopping away as he flipped through a set of flash cards.
“Hey, Nathan?” I called, trying to get his attention. There was no answer. “Nathan!” I shouted, and he jumped, the cards in his hand slipping to the floor. Jostling his MP3 player, he turned off the music and looked at me.
“What’s wrong?”
I laughed. “Nothing, I just wanted to talk. How do you concentrate with all that noise anyway?”
“Oh,” he said, kneeling to collect his flash cards. “It’s nothing really. I’ve grown up with so much noise in this house.”
“So you can only work with loud, brain-splitting music?” I asked, unconvinced.
Nathan shrugged. “If it gets too quiet around here, something just feels off.”
“Gotcha. So where were you last night?” I asked. “I didn’t see you at the party.”
“I wasn’t allowed to go. Will needed someone to keep all the little ones occupied while he was supervising, and he decided I was too young to attend. Lee got to go last year when he was a freshman, but Cole was in charge then.”
“Dang,” I said, knowing how excited the boys were about the party. “That stinks.”
He considered this momentarily. “Not really,” he told me. “The party scene really isn’t my thing.”
“Yeah, same here.” As the words left my mouth, I realized how hypocritical they sounded. Since moving to Colorado, I’d been to more parties in the past month and a half than in my entire life.
Nathan must not have been paying attention, because he kept talking. “The only bad part was trying to fall asleep with all the racket outside, and of course the food fight.”
“Food fight?” I questioned.
“Zack and Benny got in a fight over who was better: the Green Goblin or the octopus dude. I forget his name.”
“Doctor Octopus,” I added.
“Yeah, him. Well, anyway, they started throwing popcorn at each other. When they ran out, they used their grape soda. It took forever to pick up all the little pieces and I had to get a mop.”
Before I could respond, I heard yelling from the backyard.
“Giddyap, horsey!”
Getting up, I went over to the window just in time to see Isaac rocket off the deck with Parker clamped onto his back. Around her neck was a cowboy hat hanging by a string. On her feet were a pair of worn-out cowboy boots, and clutched in one hand was an orange squirt gun.
The door slammed shut again, and a second later Benny and Zack leaped off the steps, copying their older cousin. They were both wearing swim trunks and had war paint slathered across their chests. The twins began to launch water balloons at the cowgirl and her horse.
“Turn around, horsey!” Parker said, slapping Isaac on the butt to get him moving. “We need to get those Indians!”
