Free Betwixt by Tara Bray Smith Page A

help.” K.A. kept his eyes on the road. “Chill out.”
    They were quiet for a while, until Nix spoke.
    “Look, bro. Things are just hard for me right now. I’m depressed. I can’t take that job. These nightmares — I don’t know what
     to do about them. And tonight Finn kicked me out of the squat —”
    “What?”
    “Finn kicked me out, man. I brought Bleek up there for a delivery, and Finn’s into Evelyn now, and —” Nix traced the outline
     of the metal door handle. “Anyway, you know how Evieknows Bleek. Man, I totally fucked up. Today was a really bad day. Quit my job, got kicked out of the squat. I’m no good to
     anyone, including myself.” He paused and looked ahead of him, his jaw tight. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”
    K.A. took a deep breath, then spoke, still staring at the road.
    “You can’t run away from yourself.”
    He looked over at the boy in the passenger seat, waiting for Nix to say something. Nix’s face was split by a wide grin, half
     mocking, half miserable.
    “Dude. You are
way
too young to be saying shit like that.”
    The two boys laughed for a moment and then K.A. turned the music down — the Flame was playing — and shook his head.
    “C’mon, man. We’ll figure out something for you.”
    “I don’t know.”
    “No. We will. Maybe my dad can get you a job at one of his stores, or — anyway. You’re still studying, man. You’ve got the
     test in a few months.”
    K.A. had been helping Nix study for the GED and found him a good student. Curious, intelligent, probably smarter than he was,
     though maybe K.A.’s spelling was better. He didn’t know what drew him to help the older boy. The dream of the rebel he never
     was? K.A. had the Mustang, the look — tousled blond hair, trucker’s hat, dark jeans, chain wallet — but no matter what he
     did he would still be the straight-up soccer dude class council dork he always had been. The one with the steady joband the cute girlfriend and the hyper-perfect older sister. The one who said things like, “you can’t run away from yourself.”
     He had gotten that one from one of Yvonne’s self-help books.
    “Dude!” Nix laughed. “Save it for Greenpeace. I’m a loser. You’re a winner. Loser,” he said, pointing to himself. “Winner,”
     he added, jerking his thumb at K.A. “Got it?”
    The squint in Nix’s eyes told K.A. that part of him was telling the truth.
    “Shut up, dude. For once you’re going to listen to me. After tonight, no more dust.”
    Nix looked at his lap. “I’m not doing any tonight. Anyway, it’s not your shit. You don’t know what’s going on in my head.
     Why I don’t —” He turned again to the window.
    K.A. ignored him. “And you’re going to study for the GED.”
    “Study?” Nix smirked. “That thing is a joke.”
    “Whatever.” K.A. tightened his grip on the wheel. “And we’re going to find you somewhere to stay, and maybe my dad —”
    Nix was shaking his head, but his eyes were bright.
    “Why are you doing this, man?”
    K.A. waited, the streetlamps throwing waves of light over his face.
    “Honestly, I don’t know.” He turned to look at the young man he so little resembled, fumbling for reasons. Nix was cool; he
     was wild; he was the person K.A. was not. There wassomething else, though. Something about Nix that made you want to be near him. Some strange aura of protectiveness. Though
     K.A. told himself that it was he who was protecting Nix — team captain looking out for the benchwarmer, that kind of thing
     — at certain moments he wondered if it was Nix who was protecting him.
    He cleared his throat and saw the boy’s eyebrows rise.
    “You’re my friend. And I don’t know why else.”
    “Well, I guess we’ll see then.”
    “After Ondine’s? Yeah, we’ll see.”

    M ORGAN AND O NDINE HAD PICKED UP N EVE C LOWES from her house up in Southwest and driven her in. Neve’s ultraprotective mother, Amanda, waved through the living room