Free Almost Kings by Max Doty Page A

off that night. I never did find out how long she must have waited by the gym, but she called at least three times, at 3:05, 3:13 and 3:37 while I was in the hills with no signal. She only left a message, the first time: “Hey, Ted. I’m here. Where are you?”
     

13.
     
    I sat next to Kallea at Quiz Bowl practice the next day and pulled a Twix out of my backpack. It was the best peace offering I could afford.
    “Your favorite, right?” I asked, setting it on the table in front of her.
    She wouldn’t even look at me. She read over a list of Latin American countries and their capitals, quietly mouthing each: “Peru, Lima. Ecuador, Quito. Uruguay, Montevideo.”
    The warm weather had persisted, and she wore a yellow top with tiny straps that showed off her thin, freckled shoulders. I imagined kissing them, something that had seemed so possible a day earlier.
    “Come on,” I said.
    She kept her eyes on the sheet but seemed to lose track of where she was and repeated herself.
    “You shouldn’t buy stuff for me,” she said after a few seconds.
    “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
    She picked up her things and left the candy bar where it was.
    “It’s not that serious,” she said, standing. She walked to a nearby table and sat down next to Emily.
    Mrs. Gibbons walked in, her arms full of fresh study materials and a huge smile on her face.
    “Okay, team. Hot off our success in Crescent City, I’m looking for us to keep our roll going. I’ve got stuff on Supreme Court justices, opera, American Lit and more. Divide yourself up into two teams. Winner gets pizza next week.”
    I walked up to where Kallea and Emily were sitting.
    “Hey, Emily,” I said. “Want to join forces?”
    She smiled widely and started tapping a foot nervously. I wondered if I’d ever been that obvious about liking someone.
    “Definitely.”
    “Em,” said Kallea. “Remember? You said you’d be with me.”
    Emily looked heartbroken, but Kallea shot me an angry look.
    “Sorry, Ted,” Emily said. “I promised Kallea first.”
    “Sure,” I said. “It’s cool.”
    “Sorry,” she said again. “I’m really sorry.”
    “Yeah. Really, no worries.” I felt like I’d kicked a kitten. “It’s fine.”
     
    When I got home that day, the Kings were in the backyard, smoking weed from the day before and sipping on beers while they took turns tossing a knife at my dad’s dartboard. As I walked in, Hass handed me a half-empty bottle of whiskey, and I raised it high, downing as much as I could in a gulp.
    “Damn, Bug, what’s got into you?” he asked.
    “Nothing.” I took another drink.
    Wood tossed the knife, but it stuck handle-first and clattered to the ground.
    “Clearly you are not a ninja,” said Reggie.
    “Yeah, more of a samurai, really,” said Wood as he picked up the blade and checked it for nicks. I pulled my Swiss Army knife out of my pocket and flicked it open, examining it in the sun.
    “You got plans tonight?” asked Hass. “Any more Quiz Bowl matches.”
    “Nope.”
    “Well, we’re planning a little get-together over at Reggie’s place. Not a full-out party. Just bringing a couple of girls up. Maybe you could bring one too.”
    All I could think about was the way Kallea had ignored me earlier that day. I’d been so close to making her mine, but she’d never be with me now. I kept replaying the way she’d stood up and moved to the other table with Emily and the hateful look she’d shot me. How could love turn so quickly to that deep malice? And just because I’d been a little late. Well, okay. If Kallea was that fickle, she wasn’t worth the hurt. If that was how she wanted to play it, fine. There were other girls.
    “I know someone,” I said.
    “Hear that?” asked Hass. “He knows someone.”
    “Do I know this someone?” asked Wood. “Maybe I’d like to get to know this someone.”
    “You got anything to drink up at your place?” Hass asked Reggie.
    “Yeah. My parents restocked the bar last