“The Kite Runner?” he questioned, taking the book from my hands. Khaled Hosseini’s novel was one of my favorite reads that Daddy had given me, and I wanted Brooks to know that part of me—the same way he wanted me to know music. The book was marked with small pink tabs, indicating my favorite sections. “It’s one of your favorites?”
Yes.
“Then I’ll read it twice,” he replied, kissing my temple. As he leaned in, he whispered against my ear. “I’ll sneak back into your room tonight after your dad’s asleep for a sleepover.”
“GO HOME, BROOKS!” Daddy hollered, making us both chuckle.
“Um, Earth to Brooks. You still there, dude?” Rudolph asked, tapping me on the shoulder as I sat on Oliver’s stool in the garage. Rudolph kept waving his hand in front of the book I held with an apple in his grip. “Normally when we are on a break from rehearsing, you’re strumming a guitar, but now you’re like…”
“Reading!” Oliver said, walking out of Calvin’s house with two apples in his hand. He bit into both at the same time and chewed loudly. “I didn’t even know you knew how to read. Are you sure the book isn’t upside down?”
I shushed them, waving my hands at them as I flipped the page. My forearm was filled with small yellow tabs I was using to write notes back to Maggie. The twins kept trying to get my attention, but I was too far deep into the book.
Calvin came into the room, holding three apples in his hand and biting out of all three. Dramatic. My friends were dramatic. “Dude, don’t bother. He’s too much in love to focus on anything else.”
“Ugh. Not more of this love shit,” Oliver whined. “First we had to deal with Calvin wanting to write the name Stacey into every song we make, and now we have Brooks reading. READING!”
“For the first time in my life, I agree with my brother,” Rudolph said.
Oliver thanked him by giving him a wet willy.
“God! I take it back. You’re disgusting.”
I went back to ignoring them. It was interesting to see where Maggie put her tabs, and if any of mine overlapped them. I loved discovering the parts that made her laugh and cry, the parts that made her angry and happy. It was the best feeling.
“So, my dad was thinking of getting rid of his boat,” Calvin said. “He wants to sell it in a few weeks, and wanted to see if we want to have a farewell dudes’ trip and go fishing before we all head off to college in the fall.”
“He’s selling the boat?” I choked out, looking up from the book. “But, that’s like…our boat.” We’d spent so much of our youth sitting out on the lake. I knew we hadn’t done it in years, but the idea of Mr. Riley selling it made me pretty sad.
“Is this the same boat you two chicks are always reminiscing about?” Rudolph asked.
“The same boat you wrote a song about?” Oliver jumped in.
“Yup. That’s the boat.”
“Well, hell. I’m in. If this boat had the power to make Brooks stop reading, then it must be something worth experiencing.” Oliver tossed his apple cores into the trash can, and Rudolph rushed over, picking up the cores with a paper towel and putting them into a paper bag.
I cocked an eyebrow at my weird friend, and he shrugged. “What? I’m helping my mom make a compost in our backyard. Apple cores are primetime for it. Anyway, if we can get organic fruit and I don’t have to physically harm a fish, then count me in.”
“The apple you ate isn’t organic, brother. Mom told me not to tell you—which is why I’m telling you.” Oliver smirked as Rudolph’s face turned red.
It was mere minutes before they started hollering again.
So I went back to reading my book.
A few weeks later, Mr. Riley took the guys, including my dad and my brother, Jamie, out on the boat for one last ride. It was the perfect day. We ate a crap ton of junk food—except Rudolph, who brought organic grapes and homemade organic banana bread he’d made with his mom. Surprisingly, when he offered it around, everyone chose chips instead.
“You’re missing out on the huge health benefits of flax seed and chia seed, but okay, by all means, eat your genetically modified corn chips,” Rudolph said.
Oliver took a handful of Fritos and shoved them into his mouth. “Don’t mind if I do.”
We sat out there for hours, talking about our future and how even with college approaching, we were still going to keep band practice as a priority in our lives. Just because we were going to school didn’t mean the dream had to die; it simply meant the dream had to shift a bit with the changes of life.
“Brooks, can you grab me a beer from under the deck?” Mr. Riley asked from across the boat.
I hopped up and did as he said. “Here you go, Mr. R.”
He thanked me and then invited me to sit next to him. I sat.