Free Go Your Own Way by Zane Riley

left. They’d hung out in Crooked Teeth’s room, door open, lawn chairs in empty parking spaces. This morning Lennox had gone out his bathroom window and over the fence to avoid the slimmest possibility of a run-in.
    “And I bet you that your shirt’s J. Crew,” Lennox replied. Will looked up in surprise. “What? Am I not allowed to be the same part of the stereotype as you are?”
    The bell ending lunch rang. For the first time, Lennox was glad to leave Will behind. He dumped his tray, pocketed an orange and an apple from the lunch basket rack and headed to his final class.
    The gymnasium was small, only big enough to house a basket­ball court and a few stands on either side. Along the walls hung a dozen faded athletic banners from basketball and volleyball championships. The most recent was over ten years old. It was nothing like the posh, newly-built gymnasium at Lancaster or even the older gyms at the public schools he’d attended. Neither were the other students who were waiting. Eight boys and three girls sat in a small group at the far end of the bleachers. Len­nox only recognized one of them as a percussionist in his band class—a hulking boy with a long ponytail.
    When he’d come to registration a few weeks ago, he’d picked weight lifting at once. Throughout July, the three drunks from the motel had pestered, hounded and followed him if they ran into each other around town. Lennox had taken to holing up in his room, exercising to try to gain muscle, but without a good diet, he was growing weak. His ribs were starting to poke out one by one along his sides. Six weeks of living on dry noodles, fast-food tacos and cheap, greasy burgers once a day did that to a person. Now that school was in, he had access to more food and a chance to buff up.
    Lennox took a seat on the bleachers away from the others and waited. Most of the class sneaked glances at him until the bell rang. The stares didn’t stop when their teacher arrived. Coach Davis was stitched into the front of her polo shirt. She wasn’t very tall, but she looked capable of hoisting him up and breaking him in half over her knee. As she began to introduce herself, a burly-looking girl inched toward him along the bleacher row.
    “Hi.”
    Lennox slumped against the row behind them and ignored her.
    “I saw you with Will earlier,” the girl said. Her smile was wide and her two front teeth were a little crooked. “In the stairwell, I mean. He’s quite taken with you. I can tell these things. He’s totally one of my best friends and I’ve been wanting him to have someone for years . I’m Roxanne.”
    “I don’t care,” Lennox said.
    Coach Davis called for everyone’s attention. “For anyone who doesn’t have a gym uniform—or if you’ve outgrown your old one—I’ve got a bunch here to check out to get your right size and then buy.” She set out several blue shirts with the school’s name across the front. “Shirts and shorts are fifteen each. You can also wear a white shirt and black athletic shorts.”
    Great. Another thirty dollars he couldn’t afford. Maybe he could nab a uniform from an idiot who didn’t bother to lock his gym locker. Thirty dollars was two weeks of dinner for him. Maybe three.
    “Well, you should . You aren’t just pretending you’re interested in him, are you? Because if you are—”
    “Then it’s none of your business.”
    “But—”
    “Roxanne, pay attention.”
    “Sorry, Coach Davis, but—”
    “If this is about the dance team schedule again, we can talk about it later, okay?” Coach Davis said in exasperation.
    “Oh, good, because I’ve got—”
    “Later.”
    The rest of the class sniggered as Roxanne flushed. Lennox made a mental list of ways to get a gym uniform, from thievery to buying the non-Eastern option Coach Davis had given them: black mesh shorts and a white T-shirt. He had a white shirt, and some store in town would sell the shorts at a cheaper price than the school did.
    After