The Thunder in His Head Read online

  That got my attention. I leaned toward him. “What do you mean?”

  “You weren’t in school Friday, but there’s this video on YouTube of you and these two guys—”

  “Yeah, I saw it.”

  “Well, those two idiots went after you because Carla told them to. And she’s the one who posted the video on YouTube.”

  I waited for my brain to start its familiar quick burn, but it didn’t come. “What the hell for, man?” I sighed. “Why would she do something like that?”

  “She got the crazy idea in her head that you wanted to get me in bed, and she couldn’t let it go,” Ty answered. “She wanted you out of the picture, so she sicced her cousin and his friend on you.”

  “Cousin?”

  “The redhead, the one whose nuts you cracked, that’s Carla’s cousin, Pete. The other one is his buddy, Stuart. When I saw Stuart with two broken teeth, and you showed up at school with a big cut in your hand, I should’ve put two and two together. On the video, I recognized Pete’s voice and those crazy-looking cowboy boots he wears all the time.”

  I laughed. “That crazy girlfriend of yours is gonna have everybody thinking I’m some punk who likes getting boots stuck up his chute.”

  Ty shook his head. “Nah, man. I saw the rest of the video on her cell phone, the part where you kicked butt. So I took that and posted it on YouTube. It’s only been up a day, and it’s already got more hits than Carla’s video picked up in two days. And Carla’s not my girl anymore.”

  I was actually touched. “You broke up with her because of me? Dude, that’s sweet.”

  “Man, that was some psycho stuff she did to you. I broke up with her because I’m scared of the crazy bat.”

  We had a good, long laugh over that.

  Epilogue

  IT IS four weeks later. Jill finally came back to school, looking pale and even thinner but with the big, bold smile I remember from the day I met her. Chain and I work with her on Saturday afternoons, helping her catch up on all the assignments she missed. She told us she’s seeing a shrink three times a week and swore she’d throttle us both if we breathed a word about it to anyone. She still lunches on diet Pepsi, but she seems more down to earth than she has in a long time, and I feel that she at least has a chance now.

  I’m still on the basketball team, but after three weeks of missed practices, I lost my starting position to Melvin Dobbs, the senior whom I replaced at the beginning of the year. Truth be told, it’s actually a good thing that I’m not a starter anymore. It takes off some of the pressure.

  The divorce papers have been drawn up. Dad signed them right away and then sent them over to Mom. They’ve been spread out on the dining room table for two days now, but Mom hasn’t even looked at them as far as I know. Not because of any doubt on her part about ending the marriage; I think it’s because she’s so busy.

  She and Reece have set a wedding date, two months from now, and all the planning takes up a lot of her time. She is frantic and rushed and happy. I am glad for her, and for Reece. Her pregnancy is beginning to show. It looks as if I’m going to be a big brother after all. Reece is just as hot as ever, but he has practically moved into Mom’s house. I’ve seen enough of him walking around in his boxers in the morning, his face unshaven, bleary-eyed, and sleep-bedraggled, that I have begun to accept him as the stepdad.

  But the biggest reason I stopped wanting Reece was because I had finally realized what I had been too confused to see: I was starting to fall for Dwight.

  There’s been no word from Dwight. Or Stephanie. I miss both of them. They cross my mind often, memories both good and bad rising in swells and reminding me of what a rare and precious thing it is to have someone truly care about you. I hope they are doing well. I hope the hurt Dad and I dealt isn’t weighing on them. Ty still hangs out with Dwight from time to time. He says Dwight never asks about me, never mentions me.

  The old man and I hang out together a lot more now. He has started playing video games with me, and he’s actually pretty good at them. It keeps me sharp. A couple of weeks ago, he went out and bought a huge pool table, which he placed in the near-empty spare bedroom at the end of the hall in his town house, and he has been teaching me how to shoot. I’m getting good at it, although I have yet to win a game against him. Sometimes he drives me down to the park on Saturday afternoon. We sit and watch couples stroll around the lake, or we take in the college kids who play soccer or toss Frisbees. The trees are in full fall blush, glowing red and gold as they shed their leaves. The weather is colder, but there is the promise of soft fires and festive meals and family get-togethers.

  I think back to those days when I walked around like a clenched fist, ready to tear myself out of my own skin, and it is almost like looking in on a stranger. Who was that angry guy who so dreaded his parents’ coming divorce and all the upheaval it was bringing that he could barely get himself through the day without exploding?

  The world is not closing in on me. It is opening up, always offering something new. There are hundreds of opportunities, any number of things to be thankful for. My life is not all I want it to be, but I can’t wait to see what comes next.

  IT IS Friday, and I am walking home from school. The mix of cold air and bright sunlight feels good against my face. Dad and I are practically buddies now. Tonight, he will be grilling burgers, and we’re going to watch some college football on ESPN. My homework’s already done. I just have to ditch my uniform and my books at Mom’s, and then I’ll be on my way to the town house.

  When I round the corner onto Mom’s street, I immediately spot the silver Corvette parked in her driveway. My heartbeat quickens. Oh, God. Is it Dwight? Is it really him?

  I rush down the street. When I reach the house, I see him standing on the porch, reaching up to ring the doorbell. He is in his uniform, which lets me know that he came here directly from school. Whatever has brought him here, it is obviously so important that he couldn’t even take the time to go home and change.

  Please, please let that be a good thing.

  He stops right before he presses the doorbell, and he turns. He sees me and freezes, just as I freeze under his gaze. I can’t move. I can’t move because I am unable to figure out what he is feeling, what has brought him here. It may be that he has come to tell me off for breaking his heart. It may be that he is finally going to close me out, a bad chapter in his life.

  I don’t want that to happen. I want him. He is beautiful, and I want him.

  Dwight steps down from the porch. It is a hesitant move. Now I see how apprehensive he is. I also see something else, and that finally frees my body. I hurry across the lawn to him.

  He stands there, hands hanging helplessly at his sides, waiting. His face holds pain, but it is filled with excitement too, and gladness, and that’s what got me moving.

  Neither of us says a word. I just drop my backpack on the ground and take him in my arms.

  About the Author

  GENE GANT grew up in Memphis, Tennessee, and lives with his family in a quiet little rural community just outside the city. This is his first novel.

  Also from HARMONY INK

  Also from HARMONY INK

  Table of Contents

  Title page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also from Harmony Ink

  Also from Harmony Ink

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