death under the beat-up, comfortable couch. “If you sleep through your
classes, how are you going to try out for the team?”
“The team?” Xander said blankly.
“Yeah! The basketball team! They start playing in a month. You
can still try out, but you have to get your grades up!”
Xander looked at him helplessly. “You think I could make the
team?” Oh God. He loved basketball—he did. He would sneak into the
local sports bars or restaurants, just to watch the games on television. He
would walk three miles and hover in the shadows of the Arco Arena on
game day, just to watch Vlade Divac and Peja Stojakovic walk in the
back for practice. But staying awake for class? Christ….
He looked at Chris"s face then, expectant, anticipating, excited.
No, not Christ. Christian. He"d do it for Christian.
8
Amy Lane
“I"ll talk to my teachers,” he said through a dry mouth, although he
wasn"t sure if he remembered their names. “I"ll talk to them tomorrow.
Maybe I can fix it.”Maybe I can move mountains, change the color of
the sky and tilt the center of the world, just to play basketball, just to see
you look at me like I can do anything, just so I don"t let you down.
Eventually dinner was over, and he"d helped clean up, and even he
could see that this nice family would be wrapping it up. Eventually he
told his first lie, one about going home to sleep, and he left. Before he
went, tucking his basketball under his arm securely, he told Chris that
he"d meet him at the cross street so they could walk to school together.
He did go home. His mother and whoever were both sprawled on
the couch, stoned and out of it, and he had time to look at her through
eyes that had just seen a functional little family, and he felt a surge of
anger. Goddammit, all he"d ever asked for was some food and a little
attention, but even before the drugs, that hadn"t really been in the cards,