Thomas and Niko in the City of Trees

Chapter 5 - Part 1

As you can probably guess, I'm pretty quiet in the car with Lexie. She showed up just as Thomas's car went out of sight, so of course she's none the wiser about the whole thing. But she only puts up with me being quiet for a few minutes before getting into the tough questions.

She turns to me in desperation. "What's going on, Niko? He won't talk to Madison."

"He's just working through some stuff," I say.

"He barely paid attention to her today. She needs him to be honest right now, but he won't tell her anything."

I guess I'm trying to protect Thomas at this point. Or maybe I'm more selfish than that. Maybe I'm starting to see how this could all come back to me. I'm madder at him than I've ever been over this, but I don't want to say anything that would implicate either of us. That means I have to lie to Lexie. I'm feeling really torn up inside. But I figure I'll do anything to buy him some more time to calm down. If he can get over this and blame it all on something else, then we'll be safe. I just want all of it to blow over so we can get on with our lives. Because that thing we did, it only happened once, and it won't happen ever again.

"He won't tell me, either," I say. "I tried to get him to talk to me, but he won't."

"When did you see him?"

The way she's driving has me holding on tight to my door. "Just before you showed up."

We're stopped at a red light. She's looking over at me for a long time, not saying anything at all. She knows something isn't right. I can tell. She knows I'm not giving her the full story. Or maybe I'm being paranoid—I can't be too sure of anything right now.

"Why aren't you freaking out about this?"

"What do you want me to do?" I say. "Don't ask me why he chose now to lose his shit. I don't fucking know. It's finals, Lexie. I have so much to do. I'm not going to let him throw me off my game, no matter how fucked up his behavior is right now."

"Well I think that's shitty of you," she says.

I don't say anything back. The less said the better.

She's trying to calm herself down. "Will you please come to my house?"

"I won't get any studying done at your house, and you know it." Normally she's more supportive when I get super into my school work. Normally she understands, because she cares about her grades, too. Not as much as me, but she's also smarter than me and therefore doesn't have to try as hard. She knows that.

"Come on, Niko, you would have to royally fuck up at this point to lose your four-two. Don't be selfish."

That sets me off for some reason. "Holy shit, Lexie, it's one fucking week of our lives. Can we stop acting like everything's so dramatic for one fucking week?"

She smacks the steering wheel. "You know what? I think it's better if I just drop you off." She's using this creepy, flat kind of voice that means she's so mad she's gone all the way around to calm again.

"I think that's a fucking genius idea," I say.

Now she doesn't say anything at all, she's so mad. Nothing, for five whole minutes. It's longer than it sounds. I don't say goodbye when she drops me off. I just walk away from her stupid little car like I don't know her.

—

I get along fine on my own over the next couple of days. You would be surprised how easy it is to avoid people. Even your close friends. It's not like I become some kind of anti-social freak, either. I hang around with Garrett and some of the other guys at lunch in order to bring down the stress. A lot of them, they don't give two shits about their grades. A few, like Thomas, are headed places due to their athletic ability, and only minimal effort in the academic department. Around here, that mostly means football. Don't get me wrong, it's not exactly my preference to be hanging out with these guys all the time. There's a reason I'm not as close to them as I am to Thomas. Some of them are pretty dumb, if I'm honest. Others spend all their time just talking shit about people, which tends to freak me out a little. You should hear them. Some of these guys will straight-up trash anybody they perceive as lower than them in this school. Anyone from try-hards, to poor kids, to girls who sleep around a lot, to guys who don't sleep around enough...the list is a mile long and anyone is fair game. I always wonder, though: If you really think you're better than them, what's the point of rubbing their faces in the dirt? It's messed up, is what it is.

So anyway, it's Wednesday night and I'm just sitting at home. I'm working on this essay, because that's my final in English. I'll be honest. I'm trying extra hard on it, not because I'm worried about my grade in that class, but because I want to impress Ms. Nolan. I can't explain to you what it is about her that I like so much. Every day, she just shows up to that school like nothing can get her down. She's nice to everyone, she believes in everyone, and she notices when people are hurting. I think I got on her radar because my mom never shows up to the parent-teacher conferences. They're just too much for her to handle. Anyway, I had Ms. Nolan for English in tenth grade, and again my senior year. I don't take AP English. I only took AP Physics and Math this year, which is why a four-point-two is the best I can do. Luckily it's enough for the scholarship. Ms. Nolan seems to have it in her mind that I should've taken AP English, too. She's given me a few books that the other class reads, and that's fine. I like reading them, and talking about them with her. But I'm not completely dumb. I know she knows that I capital-G-Get them, if you know what I mean. So she's probably expecting a lot out of me for this essay. I won't disappoint her. My laptop is a huge piece of shit and freezes up a lot, but other than that I have a good time writing it.

I don't want you to get the wrong idea about my mom. Her early life was messed up. She came to Boise in 1994 as a Bosnian refugee, along with a shit ton of other Bosnian refugees. There's a lot I don't know about her childhood. You can hardly get her to say one word about it. But once, a couple years ago, I got super mad and asked her why she was so crazy. And she looked right at me and said, "That's what happens when little girls get made into women before they're ready." She was mostly on her own once she got here. And she was still pretty young when she got pregnant with me in 2000. And like I said, my dad didn't stick around, which I think only added to the whole situation. She's made a lot of effort to improve her life, and even though she still has it rough most of the time, she never gives up. You can't fault her for that.

Anyway, I finish the essay, and I'm just sitting there looking over it. There's really nothing left to do with it, nothing I want to change, and it's getting close to ten, so I decide I'm done. I get ready for bed and say goodnight to my mom. She turns down the TV without me even saying anything about it. I realize I haven't worked out at all since Thomas and I quit hanging out. I've got this dumbbell I keep in the corner of my room, so I use it to do some curls, and I stretch, and I do crunches and pushups.

I'm lying there in bed, and of course I can't sleep. I'm so tired, and I miss Thomas so much I could die. I start to freak out a little, just in my head, because I realize there's a small chance he could be serious about all that shit he said. He's one of those people where once he's made up his mind about something, it's pretty much set in stone. But there's no way he's made up his mind about this. Right? There's no way he's so stupid that he'll throw our friendship away over something like what happened. I start getting really worked up over all of it. I just wish he was here, because when I get like this, he's the only one who can calm me down.

I know I'll have to get to sleep somehow, so I pretend he's here. I think about all the things he would say: how fucking legit this summer is going to be, or how much it's going to suck, depending on his mood. I pretend he's lying in my bed next to me. It's just a twin bed, so there's not a lot of extra room. We've only tried it a couple of times, when we were younger. Shit, nowadays we'd just be spilling off of it, unless we got close.

I know you're not stupid. I know there are things I'm not talking about. I want to get close with him. Every day of my life, I want to get close with Thomas Chu. I'm just not sure what that actually means. I have no idea what the endgame would be, and I'm just so scared of even letting myself think about it.

Thomas knows more of my secrets than anyone else. But not this one. Not the fact that I get these quick little rushes when I notice how big he's getting. Not how, in the deepest, darkest corner of my mind, I want those arms around me, protecting me. We spend most of our lives together as it is, and I want to keep it that way. But sometimes, I want more. And when I go off to school, and we don't see each other as much anymore...well, I don't know what the hell I'm going to do.

I'm just so tired and scared, so I give in. I imagine what it would feel like to have his arms around me now. I try to feel that warmth he radiated during the insane moment we shared Saturday night. Instantly, I start to calm down. I remember more of that moment. I remember him against me. I reach down and it doesn't take me long at all. After I'm done, I sort of feel around for something to clean myself up, and I don't remember anything after that.