go and cranked up the radio. “Kryptonite” was playing, and 3 Doors
Downwas one of Xander"s favorite bands.
They got into the house and each went to shower again—alone. It
was ritual. Something about the patina of fast food and sweat was just so
unpleasant on the skin. It was just like after a game—both of them were
desperate to get the reek of themselves off of their own skin.
42
Amy Lane
When Xander emerged, wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a T-shirt,
and freshly shaved, Chris stuck his head down the hall. “C"mon up here
tonight, "kay?”
Xander padded up the carpeted stairs, one hand on the rail, marking
the way the rest of the house was still in starlight. It was odd—the house
was never still. There was always the comforting murmur of Andi and
Jed, talking after hours. There was always the patter of Penny on the
keyboard as she worked late into the night, struggling into all of the
excelled classes that so badly eluded Chris. There was always the sound
of Chris"s iPod, playing just sub-audio, but Xander knew what was on it.
He knew every song on it, even when Chris got new ones. He knew what
Chris played when he was in a bad mood, and what he played when
they"d won a game, (“Jesus is Just All Right” by the Doobie Brothers.
Xander could never figure out why.)
Tonight he had the iPod plugged into the jack, and what was
coming out was “Small Things” by Blink 182. Of course it was.
When he walked into Chris"s room and looked around, he realized
what a kids" room it still was. Their pennants were on the walls from
taking State two years running, and Chris had three years of best
sportsmanship trophies on his mantel as well. He also had, Xander
noticed, a little surprised, all of Xander"s MVP trophies, as well as the
plaque he"d gotten when he"d gotten his scholarship and athlete scholar