Free Falling From the Sky by Nikki Godwin Page A

looks bored.
    “You coming back to my place?” he asks. “We can just hang out, play video games. Whatever.”
    I wonder if he always feels this need to explain himself. Maybe he thinks that I think he wants me. In reality, all I’m thinking about is showering. Again.
    Micah beats me back to his house and doesn’t come to the door when I knock. He just yells that it’s open.
    I feel strange walking into someone’s house like this. One day he’ll yell that it’s open, I’ll walk in, and his mom will be sitting on the couch. And that moment will be awkward in every way possible.
    “Hi, Ms. Youngblood. I’m Ridge, the white guy who is always hanging out with your son. Sorry to show up on your doorstep again. I know it seems like I’m always here, but I promise, Micah really does invite me, and I really don’t have anywhere else to go. Oh wait, never mind. You’re never here, so you don’t know all of this. Hi, I’m Ridge. Nice to meet you.”
    I push the door open slowly and poke my head in to make sure she’s not sitting on the couch. The only light I see is from the kitchen. The microwave beeps.
    “In here,” Micah calls out.
    “Question,” I say as I walk into the kitchen.
    “Yeah?” He looks up from stirring spaghetti sauce.
    I swallow and try to think of how to politely ask what I’m thinking.
    “Dude,” I say. “Not to be all in your business but where are your parents? You can’t live here alone.”
    He gives me a half-smile. “Dad bailed after I was born. Don’t know him, don’t care. Mom pretty much lives with Poppa B. She stayed the night a few times after Nanna died, to make sure he was okay, and she pretty much never came back,” he says. “So in a way, I do live here, in this house, alone. She’s across the res. Hungry?”
    I take the subject change as a hint and simply nod. I haven’t eaten anything aside from a Nutri-grain bar all day, and that’s not even worth the honorable mention. I leave the cooking to Micah while I return for another shower.
     
    “You’ve gotta get Zoey to give me her secret recipe,” I say. “I’ll bribe her. What does she like? Is she a chocolate or flowers kind of girl?”
    Micah spins his fork in his noodles and looks up at me. Then he answers. “Neither. She likes blue rock candy.”
    “Liar,” I say, looking back down at my noodles. “That’s you.”
    He laughs. “You noticed?”
    Of course I noticed. He’s always twirling it around in his mouth and running his tongue over it the way Samantha does with popsicles when she’s trying to play seductive.
    “Yeah, you usually have it in your mouth,” I say. I leave out the seduction part.
    “Well, I was going to say you could just give the candy to me to deliver to her, but you’ve already foiled that plan,” he says. “Speaking of plans, are you going home for the holiday?”
    “What holiday?”
    “Friday. It’s the Fourth of July,” he says.
    I’d completely forgotten. We’ll get out of practice at noon Thursday so everyone can go home for the weekend if they wish. I haven’t given it any thought until now.
    “Hadn’t thought about it. I’ll probably stick around. I don’t feel like dealing with home right now,” I answer.
    “Good.” His eyes light up, and I know he’s already made plans for us.
    “Another horse?” I ask.
    He nods. He’s smiling Abby’s smile, the tip of his tongue between his teeth.
    “I want you to come out here for the Fourth, on the reservation. We’ll grill out that day, and there’s an awesome fireworks show over the river,” he tells me.
    Independence Day with Native Americans? That feels immoral. I don’t even want to think about how they’ll feel with a white guy sitting in the midst of them.
    “I’ll think about it,” I say.
    In all reality, I’ll think of a way to get out of it. And then I’ll end up going anyway because I’ll have nothing else to do. Micah stares across the table as I finish my last few bites.
    “You have