to take the tray, then hesitates. She looks at Enrique.
“What’s the matter?” Enrique asks, looking at me.
My mother shakes her head. “Nothing’s the matter. These are vegetarian, right?”
“Vegetarian?” he says.
“No meat,” my mom says.
He shakes his head. “No meat.”
“They smell delicious,” my mother says. “But you... Have you been playing with a cat?”
“Cats hate me,” Enrique says.
My mother shrugs and takes the tray.
“What’s up with your mother?” Enrique asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know where to start.”
Enrique has burned me a CD for my birthday, so we head for my room to listen to it. It’s this weird mix of Mexican rap, rock en español , and a bunch of alternative things I don’t even know what to call. But maybe it’s just what I need right now. We shut the door, and as soon as it shuts, I can’t help it—I pull out another Slim Jim from under the bed.
Enrique looks at me. “Does your mom know? Is that why she’s so weird?”
I shake my head way too energetically. “No way does she know what happened. Mr. Piper didn’t call home.”
“He let you off, just like that? After Frumberg? After they searched your locker?”
I can’t meet his eyes. “Well, I think we agreed to something. It’s kind of hazy now.”
“What did you agree to, Stanley?”
“I think I owe him a favor.”
“A favor?” Enrique says. “I don’t know if I like the sound of that...”
But downstairs the doorbell is ringing again. Jonathan is here.
He smiles at me in the light of his porch light; his dark black skin contrasting with his bright white teeth. He’s brought sushi. I’m not a big fish fan, but it’s the only meat-like thing my mother lets in the house, so I can’t help smiling. Meanwhile Josh is going crazy, jumping around the kitchen. The boy would eat raw fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner if we let him. My mom gives him a piece now. But that just seems to make him hungrier. Max hovers in the background, and Josh turns to him. “You interested, Max?”
Max meows at Josh softly, but keeps his distance, eyeing my friends and me.
We leave my brother and his cat downstairs in the kitchen and let my mother work it out.
Up in my room we check out some new comics Jonathan brought along while we listen to Enrique’s new mix CD.
“Dude,” says Jonathan. “It’s a total disaster area in here.”
“Yes,” Enrique says. “What do you call it? A minefield?”
“Sorry,” I say. “I don’t clean up much.”
“Well, it is your birthday,” Jonathan says. “You don’t have to clean up your room when it’s your birthday.”
Enrique nods at this like Jonathan has just expressed some real wisdom. Jonathan is always saying wise things. Come to thing of it, he is kind of crafty like a fox.
“Are we going to eat anytime soon?” Jonathan asks. “Because I’m starving. I eat like five times a day.”
Enrique nods. “Me, too.”
“Me three,” I say. “Good thing we’re teenagers, or I don’t know what people would think.”
“My mother wants me to eat a lot,” Jonathan says. “But she still gets freaked out about how much I can put away.”
“My mom doesn’t want me to eat meat,” I say. “But I can have as much of the vegetables as I want.”
“And that fills you up?” Jonathan says, his eyebrow raised.
“You’ve seen me snacking.”
“Why don’t you just tell your mom?” Enrique asks. “She might understand.”
I shake my head and Jonathan guffaws.
“What?” Enrique asks. “What’s so funny?”
“You think he should tell his mother?” Jonathan asks. “Dude, did you see how she was looking at us and sniffing? She would go ballistic.”
“It was just an idea,” Enrique says.
“It was an awful idea,” Jonathan says.
“Let’s just drop it,” I say.
From downstairs, I hear the bell ringing.
I run down the stairs, jumping two at a time. And then I’m afraid to open the door.
“Stanley?”
My trembling hand