“Keme!”
“Yeah,” he said in that you’re-too-stupid-to-live tone.“I know.”
“Where’d you get this?”
“Mr.Gates gave it to me.”And then, inthe tone, he said, “I literally just told Bobby I passed all my classes.Do you even listen to me?”
I was smart enough—barely—to realize this was a trap, so I said, “Wait, he gave it to you?Today?”
“See?You don’t listen to me.”
“That’s great,” Bobby said, clapping Keme on the shoulder and drawing him in for a one-armed hug.(Note: this would have gotten me eviscerated.) “Congratulations, Keme.I’m really proud of you.”
“You graduated?”I said.
“You’re supposed to say you’re proud of me,” Keme said.“Like Bobby.”
“What?I mean, I know!Iamproud of you.”
“If you’d really been proud of me, I wouldn’t have to tell you to say it.”
I opened my mouth, and nothing came out.
“Take it down a little,” Bobby murmured.And then, to me, “He’s been taking lessons from Fox.”
For a moment, Keme’s eyes brightened with amusement.Then they went back to their flat, killer stare.
“But what about graduation?”I said.“When’s the ceremony?”
“It was in June,” Keme said.He turned the backpack upside down and shook it out over the counter.Alotof crumbs sifted down, followed by a single, miraculously intact peanut-butter cracker.(The orange kind.)
“What do you mean it was in June?”
“What do you think I mean?”
“Take it down,” Bobby said again a little more firmly.
With a hint of a blush, Keme said, “They only do the ceremony in June.So, I just get a diploma.”
“But that’s not fair,” I said.“That’s not right.Graduation is a tradition.That’s part of growing up.You get to walk at graduation.”
“Not everybody walks at their graduation,” Bobby said.
“Right, I know, but—”
Nothing came to me.
After a couple of seconds, Keme said, “Box?”
“We’ll get you something for long-term storage this weekend,” Bobby said.
“Dope,” Keme said and headed for the stairs.
“Are you going to clean this up?”
“In a minute,” Keme called back.
As soon as he was out of the room, I said, “Bobby, graduating high school is—it’s a rite of passage.”
