“Oh my God, the best is when you’re not expecting it—” Bobby cut himself off, and he sounded like he was struggling for an appropriately grave tone when he said, “I’ll let him know.”
“And he should give me more hugs.And tell me in complete sentences how meaningful I am in his life.And maybe call me his brother, or just ‘Bro,’ or ‘Big Bro.’”
“Okay,” Bobby said with another of those sighs.“Here we go.”
Here’s another spoiler if you’ve never played paintball: the elimination-style games are freewheeling chaos.I mean, pure pandemonium.So much shouting and running and hiding behind trees.And zero snacks.
Somehow, Bobby, Keme, and I ended up crouched in a depression in the ground that the two of them kept calling a bunker.The sides were loose gravel, and more than once, my sneakers slipped and almost sent me into a tumble.Bobby and Keme were conferring—making a plan—and it was unreal how serious they sounded.I figured if the time came when they started buying their own gear, like the guys I’d seen in the parking lot, I was going to have to stage an intervention.
“All right,” Bobby said, “Dash, you go east.Keme, you go west.I’m going to sprint—”
“Which way is east?”I asked.
“Oh my God,” Keme said—andnotunder his breath.
“Go that way, babe.”Bobby pointed.“Get behind that oak and try to keep their attention.”
“Which one is the oak?”I said.“Kidding.”But just for clarity, I asked, “It’s the big one, right?”
Bobby looked like he was counting down from five before he finally managed to say, “Ready?Go.”
And then everything went wrong.
Bobby launched himself up from the bunker.
Keme turned to run west (turns out, it’s the opposite of east—kidding!I already knew that!).But the worn soles of Keme’s sneakers lost their purchase on the gravel, and Keme went bum-over-banger (is that an expression?).
And, in the process, he shot Bobby in the rump.
Shock (and the pain of being shot in the patoot) must have stopped Bobby’s sprint.He paused at the edge of the bunker, paint dripping off his very, uh, pert cheeks.His back was still to us.
I glanced at Keme, who lay on his back.His cheeks were already starting to redden.He looked at me.And then he looked away.
Sometimes, I don’t know why I do the things I do.
I shot Bobby in the bum.And then I said, as loudly as I could, “Oops.”
If it was possible, Bobby’s whole body seemed to tense even more.Then slowly—very slowly—Bobby started to turn around.
And in the final seconds before I was murdered, Keme mouthed,Thanks.
4
“We can never have children!”I shouted over the music.
Cupping a hand to one ear, Bobby shouted back, “What?”
I couldn’t answer, though, because a pair of boys came galloping toward us in a piggy-back.
A house party had seemed like a good idea.In fact, it had seemed like a great idea.I mean, Keme basically already lived at Hemlock House.And now that he was legally an adult, he could officially move in—if that’s what he wanted.So, offering up Hemlock House for all of Keme’s friends, for one night, for a few hours, had seemed like the right thing to do.Besides, I was pretty sure Keme had never, in his entire life, gotten to host a party, and I wanted to do that for him.
On the other hand: teenagers.
If I’d thought the paintball melee had been pandemonium, I’d clearly set the bar too low.Teenagerswere pandemonium.Particularly teenagers who mistakenly believed there was no adult supervision.
A group of jock types were running down the hall and trying to jump high enough to grab—and, presumably, swing on—one of the chandeliers.A skinny little white girl had found the dart set and was trying to turn her friend (another skinny white girl) into a pincushion.A weaselly boy was pretending to ride a taxidermy marmoset.(I think it was a marmoset.) And my God, the number of vapes.
In nothing but mesh shorts and a pullover, Bobby didn’t look particularly threatening.(He did, however, look like a total snack.) But he was starting to develop a tic, and I realized if I didn’t do something soon, he’d probably call in a SWAT team.If Hastings Rock had a SWAT team.I mean, if they did, Bobby was probably on it, because those thighs—
