Page 13 of Resurrection
"How old are you?" He leaned against the fence, and I got the sense that he wasn't easily impressed and was about to judge me based on my age.
I wanted to lie, but we lived next door. Sooner or later, he'd know. "Fourteen," I choked out. "You?"
I waited, and my heart thrashed in my tiny chest because this was the moment of truth. No older guy would want to be friends with a fourteen-year-old.
"Seventeen," Adri said, then added, "You suck at basketball." But it didn’t sound mean. His tone was lighthearted.
"I’m not like…into it," I muttered, feeling embarrassed.
"It shows."
"Are you gonna be a dick or what?" I blurted out. I didn’t take shit from anyone, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let Adri’s skinny ass make fun of me.
"Nah, dude, chill out." He shrugged. "I meant you could use some lessons."
"Don’t need them. Just messing around, stretching my legs. I’ve got another thing going on."
"Well, if you do need lessons, let me know."
"Whatev—"
"Adri!" a female voice shouted from the cream-colored house. A woman emerged on the porch. "Dinner!"
Adri rolled his eyes. "Okay," he drawled. "Coming."
"Are you the neighbor’s boy?" the woman—I assumed she was his mother—asked with a smile. She was small and had the same tanned skin and dark hair Adri did. The dress she wore was solid white with strawberries.
"Yes, ma’am," I replied politely, clutching the ball in the crook of my arm.
"Come on over and eat," she said and disappeared into the house.
"Mom made posole," Adri grumbled. It seemed like there would be more, but he didn’t say anything else.
"Is that like code for something?"
"She always makes too much and then invites everyone over to try it."
"Ha. My mom is the same. But with meatloaf."
"Yeah," he said, motioning for me to follow as he turned around.
He didn't wait for me to answer. He simply started walking. I hesitated for a second but then jogged to catch up with him. He had an easy confidence that made it hard to say no.
Inside his house, the air was warm with the smell of food. It was a comforting aroma I didn’t recognize but immediately liked. His mom came rushing out from the kitchen.
"Come in, boys. Wash your hands first. Adri, show your friend where the bathroom is," Adri's mom rattled off. She was a fast talker, but her voice was gentle and welcoming.
"Ma, this is Ty," Adri introduced me.
"I'm Letty," she told me. "Go on now. Clean up. Hurry. Hurry."
We washed our hands and then Adri took me to the kitchen.
There, at the head of the table, sat a stocky man with a mop of dark hair.
"And who is this young man?" he asked as we entered the room.
"I’m Ty. Nice to meet you…sir."
