Page 9 of The Locker Room

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had it? But he didn"t stay long, not this time. Instead, he took a quick

shower and changed his clothes, then got a blanket and a pillow and

snuck out to the stairwell behind the laundry room. The dryer usually ran

all night, and this way, he could stay warm.

LATER on, he figured out that his teachers had been rooting for him all

along. They had let him sleep because he needed it, and when he asked

for his work, they gave it to him. His English teacher gave him

notebooks for free, and had a bucket of pens for the taking. His math

teacher let him clean desks during lunch for extra credit. His French

teacher told him that there were usually leftovers from the Asian club

meetings after lunch, and made sure to have some wrapped in foil for

him after he got his free lunch at the kiosk. His basketball coach tutored

him in history, because that was the subject he taught when he wasn"t

coaching.

Chris gave him an “old” backpack—the same “old” backpack that

Xander would forever remember him having as they walked to school

that first day after he"d dined on KFC and mashed potatoes.

That started a tradition of the two of them walking to school. It

gave them time to talk about their classes, about basketball tryouts (both

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of them were shoo-ins from the start), about pretty much anything they

wanted to talk about, and the tradition continued until they were

sophomores, the next year.

They"d spent the summer practicing, because they loved it, and

getting Xander a job, because he needed one, and he was tired of not

eating. His plan was to spend his late evenings loading boxes at

Walmart, pretending he was sixteen, his early mornings doing

homework, sitting on the bus bench waiting for Chris, his days in school,

and his afternoons in basketball practice, where he felt he belonged.

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