Free Barbara the Slut and Other People by Lauren Holmes Page B

said my mom.
    “He shouldn’t be taking matches,” said Tina.
    “That’s not your problem,” said Mak.
    “It’s my problem now,” said Tina. “Isn’t it?”
    “No, it’s not,” said Mak. “Dylan is your problem, Noah is our problem.”
    “Noah’s not a problem,” said my mom.
    “You know what I mean,” said Mak.
    “Well, Dylan’s never been a problem before today,” said Tina.
    Someone snorted.
    “Fuck you, Mak,” said Andy.
    “Okay, boys, you can be excused,” said Tina. “Dylan, go to our room and wait for us to come up.”
    Noah must have made a gesture, because my mom said, “Yeah, honey.”
    I heard Dylan and Noah go up the creaky stairs, and then heard one of them come back down. Noah came outside and I crawled out from under the window. He pointed to the road with his thumb, and Petey and I followed him. We could hear the grown-ups raising their voices as we walked away.
    “You hear all that?” he said.
    “Yeah,” I said. “I hate that kid.”
    “He’s okay,” said Noah. “It’s not his fault.”
    “It’s not his fault that he sucks?”
    Noah laughed. “Yeah.”
    “You really think he didn’t know not to take it?”
    “Oh he knew,” said Noah. “He came running out with this crazy look on his face, and then when he realized the guy was behind him he tried to make a run for it.”
    “Oh shit.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Why didn’t you tell them that?”
    “Wouldn’t have helped,” he said.
    When we got to the park Petey ran ahead, wagging his whole body. Noah lit his joint. He passed it to me and I took a hit. I almost never smoked anymore and it caught me in the throat. Noah laughed.
    “Mom and Mak stood up for you,” I said.
    “Yeah,” he said.
    The second hit wasn’t as bad, and by the end of the joint I was used to it again. Maybe I would have been happier if I smoked more weed. Everything slowed down in a way that was very relaxing. In high school Noah would sometimes talk me into smoking with him at night, or on the way to school in the morning. Whenever we smoked before my precalculus class, I felt smart. I still wouldn’t know what the numbers meant, but the board would seem organized, and the numbers would seem independent from each other, like they were each doing their own job. On those mornings I wondered if I was going to solve some problem that nobody else had ever solved in the whole history of math.
    •   •   •
    When we got back the sun was setting. My mom and Mak met us in the yard and said we were going out for pizza. Mak got in the driver’s seat and we all got in the car.
    “I’m really sorry,” said Noah.
    “It’s okay, honey,” said my mom. She reached back and patted him on the leg. “It’s not about you.”
    At the pizza place no one knew what to say, so Mak gave my mom, and by default us, a play-by-play of his game that morning. Usually my mom shut him down as soon as he started talking about golf, but tonight she was asking questions and nodding.
    On the way back to the house, my mom turned around to face us. “I was thinking maybe we should head out tomorrow,” she said. “Nat, we could pick up your car and stop at James’s on the way home.”
    “We’ve only been here for one day,” I said.
    “I thought you were dying to break up with him,” said my mom.
    “I am,” I said. “But you guys don’t have to come.”
    “I want to,” said my mom. “I’ll feel more comfortable being in the car with you, if something goes wrong. And I think Noah is ready to go.”
    “I am,” said Noah.
    “What about Mak?” I said.
    “I’ll stay,” said Mak. “Keep up appearances.”
    “And play golf,” said my mom.
    “That’s another consideration,” said Mak.
    I texted James to say I was going to stop by the next day.
    •   •   •
    Back at the house, the Henderchenkos were in their bedroom. We went to bed quietly.
    I woke up to Noah squeezing my wrist.
    “I’m going to go watch the sunrise,” he