Free Split by Mel Bossa Page B

flying out of his nose.
    Nick cocked his head, then looked up at me and grinned. “Irish, huh?”
    My cheeks combusted.” I’m not-not that doll’s fa-father.”
    “So you’re denying your paternity?” Nick seemed very amused. “I think we should have a blood test done.”
    Boone twitched and yelped next to me.
    Mrs. Lund fought back a smile. “Enough, Nicolai. Leave him alone.” She stared down Lene. “And you, young lady, you are not to read another one of my lady magazines, understood?”
    Of course, I didn’t have another bite after that.
    After dinner, Boone and I decided to go downstairs to play a game of Monopoly. We weren’t allowed to go outside, on account of him still being grounded and all.
    Nick had disappeared again.
    Boone and I were alone in the basement, playing and eating leftover Halloween candy.
    “So when’s your dad coming back?” Boone was chewing on some Tire Sainte-Catherine.
    “Dunno. Aunt Frannie says after Christmas-as maybe.”
    “What you gettin’?”
    “A VCR.”
    Boone’s eyes widened. “Really. Wow.”
    He landed on the “go to jail” square.
    Again.
    “So, your brother had to take the ca-ca-car back, huh?”
    “Yeah. But he said he didn’t care. He doesn’t need a car. Dave’s got a car.”
    David has everything. He doesn’t even have to ask. But it’s funny, because he looks empty all the time.
    “So, are you gonna go to the stupid Valentine’s Day dance?” Boone tried to sound like he didn’t want to go to the school dance, but I know he’s been planning for it ever since Mrs. Saint-Amour announced they were going to have one this year.
    And it’s only for the fifth and sixth graders.
    “Dunno.”
    “O’Reilly, you have to come. I mean, you have to.”
    “Why?”
    “Because. You just have to.”
    I frowned, and then shrugged. “Who-who you going with?”
    This dance is a couples only dance. Every boy has been encouraged to ask a girl of his choice to escort him.
    “Kenya.”
    Kenya is a black girl. She’s from Africa. Her skin is almost blue. She wears flowered dresses and yellow ribbons in her hair.
    “Did she say-ay yes?”
    Of course I know she said yes. I heard Susan and Marylou whimpering about how Boone was going to take a “nigger” to the dance. Every time I hear the N-word, my fists close up. I want to scream, but I never do. I never say anything.
    Just like when JF and his friends call me a faggot.
    Boone raised a brow and smiled. “She’s the one who asked me. Did you see her eyes? I’ve never seen eyes like that. I’m gonna try to kiss her. If she lets me. I really hope she lets me. Do you think she’ll let me?”
    I can’t see why on earth she wouldn’t. Boone has nice lips. They never have leftover sleep on them, and his teeth are straight and white because he brushes them a lot. He never has bad breath, well, only on Saturday morning after he’s had Johan’s onion omelet.
    Not that I would kiss him. I wouldn’t kiss Boone. No way.
    “Dunno.” I said. “De-depends, I guess.”
    “On what?”
    “On if she-she wants to.”
    He sighed. “Gee thanks, Red. That really helps a lot.” He rolled the dice. “Well, anyway, it’s worth a shot, right?”
    “I guess.”
    “What do you mean, I guess? Don’t you wanna kiss a girl on the mouth? Besides, it’s necessary.”
    “How so?” I couldn’t find the necessity he was talking about.
    “To get hair down there. To have your thing grow. For your voice to change. You know. Things like that. That’s how Nick got so tall. He kissed a lot of girls. He started way before me. Says he was kissing girls back when he was in diapers.”
    For some reason, I can believe that. “Well, okay, but-but what if girls don’t wa-wanna kiss me, huh?”
    “Plenty of girls wanna kiss you.”
    “Right. Na-na-name one. And Lene doesn’t count.”
    Boone rubbed his chin and looked up to the ceiling. He didn’t say anything for at least five minutes.
    “Well?” I insisted. “Na-name