Page 52 of The Serpent King

Dill played, tentatively at first.

“Go on, go on! Screw the neighbors!”

Dill played harder and faster while Dr. Blankenship grinned and gave him the thumbs-up. It felt good. He played and played. And then a stab of nostalgia. The last time he had played the electric guitar in front of anyone was in front of his father, before his father decided not to hand him the snake. Before his father was arrested. He stopped playing and took off the guitar.

Dr. Blankenship took it from him and hung it back on the wall. “So? What do you think?”

Before Dill could answer, they heard Lydia calling down from upstairs. “Daddy, what’s happening down there? Why does your guitar playing sound so much better than normal? I’m scared. What did you do with my daddy?”

“I love my smartass daughter,” Dr. Blankenship muttered. “Anyway, you were interrupted.”

“Yeah. It’s beautiful. I’d say you scored on this one. I haven’t played an electric guitar in a long time.”

“Do you have one?”

“I used to. After…everything happened with my dad, we had to sell a bunch of stuff, so we sold it and my amp. It’s okay. I don’t have anywhere I can play it anymore.”

“How often do you get to see your dad?”

“A few times a year. Next time I go, it’ll be around Christmas. Assuming our junker car is still running by then.”

“If you need a ride to Nashville around Christmas to see your dad, I’d be glad to take you. I get my Christmas treats at the Trader Joe’s there. I could close the office for the day.”

“Are you sure? I mean, that’d be really cool, but I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“It wouldn’t be any trouble. And to be perfectly honest”—he lowered his voice and looked both ways—“it’d be nice to hang out with another male every now and again. There’s a lot of estrogen in this house.”

“I totally heard that,” Lydia called down. “Don’t be sexist and gross.”

“Yeah, I can see what you mean,” Dill said, picking up his new computer. “You tell me when works for you.”

“I will. Hey, did Lydia offer you a ride home?”

“No.”

“Do you want one?”

Dill smiled. “No thanks. It’s a beautiful night.”

As Dill walked home, a brisk wind blew, drying the leaves, which skittered and danced in front of him in the moonlit shadows. Their scratching on the pavement was a song to him.

They sat at a cafeteria table, alone and apart as always. The cafeteria, reeking of fish sticks, buzzed around them. Dill had his unappetizing free lunch. Travis had a massive container of his mom’s mac and cheese. Lydia had her baby carrots, pita chips, hummus, and Greek yogurt. Travis read his Bloodfall book and Dill had in his earbuds, working intently on something on his new laptop.

Lydia read The Diary of Anaïs Nin.

Dill popped out one of his earbuds. “Hey, Lydia, any chance you could upload some videos to YouTube for me tonight? I tried, but the school’s got YouTube blocked.”

“Sure. What?”

“Some videos I made of me playing my songs. Five of them.”

“Five? I gave you that, what, two days ago?”

“I had a bunch saved up.”

Hunter Henry, Matt Barnes, and DeJuan Washington, three football players, walked by their table.

“Hey, Dildo, the police know you’ve got a computer now?” Hunter asked. His friends snickered.