Bright Lights, Dark Nights (18 page)

I could only see Naomi.

“I kind of am a habitual liar,” Naomi said. She looked away from me, down at the ground, and sank her hands into her coat pockets. “I should probably go ahead and tell you this, too. I snuck out to see you tonight. My parents think I'm at Mae's house. She's covering for me. I snuck out the other night, too, when we went to your mom's house.”

“You didn't want to tell them?” I asked. “Are you going to get in trouble?”

“Not if they don't find out,” Naomi said. “I didn't want to give them a chance to say no. I wanted to see you.”

“I'm glad you did,” I said. “Thanks for hanging out with me today. And coming to dinner. And thanks to your sister for the advice the other night. The millions of colors. I needed to hear that.”

“I think everyone does,” Naomi said. “I did, too.”

“Well, thanks,” I said. “I feel really good, like, not just right now, but all the time. Because of you.”

We stood near the edge of the rooftop and looked out over the city. She wasn't kidding, the city was even more enormous than it had looked from the fire escape at the Halloween party. It looked like it went on forever. I couldn't imagine what a real city like Manhattan would look like from its tallest building. The buildings shrouded us off from the rest of the world most of the time but you could climb them still and see everything out there, all the world had to offer. We had a comfortable silence, which hadn't happened often. The wind was blowing the few strands of Naomi's hair that weren't pulled back.

“I think about you a lot,” I said. “Like all the time. Is that weird?”

“You do?” Naomi asked.

“Yeah, of course,” I said. I surprised myself by saying that aloud and wasn't sure how to follow it up. I made an effort to turn off my brain. “You're just so cool.”

“I promise you I'm not,” Naomi said, and laughed. Not defensive, just self-deprecating. “I promise you I'm the uncool one. You're much cooler than me. You've got that hair curl and everything.”

“But saying that makes you the cool one,” I said. “I think the less cool, the better anyway.”

“Yeah, I like dorky,” Naomi said. I couldn't have dreamed up someone like Naomi Mills. Every clichéd feeling, she gave me.

“I'm dorky,” I said. “Dorky like a fox.”

“See, there's that wit again,” Naomi said. “You are really smart, aren't you? C student, my ass. You think fast, you keep up with me, you say the craziest stuff. That's smart. It's kinda hot.”

Naomi laughed, but she didn't say what she usually says; she didn't say
I say stupid things.

I leaned over to kiss her. I still worried she'd pull away, that this whole bond we had going on was actually one-sided, but she didn't. It could have been a second or a minute—time was working some weird magic. I'd climbed the tallest building and my inner cynic plunged to the pavement, ripe for tomorrow's paper.

We held the kiss. I moved my hand to her neck; her earring rested on my thumb. Naomi's lips pulled away from mine. I felt the breeze, heard the cars again, like I was landing back on earth.

“This is the dumbest thing. I'm so nervous,” I said. “Are we like…? Do you want to go out? Do you want to be my girlfriend? I don't know how you're supposed to word this kind of thing. Will you go steady with me? Will you be my main squeeze?”

Naomi smiled. She laughed. She nodded. “Walter,” she said. She kissed me back.

*   *   *

I got home before ten. Dad was in bed already, which I took to be a not-great sign. Then I was lying in bed with the news on, and everything changed.

A clip was playing of the burglar Dad had caught and his parents from earlier in the day. The Channel 3 news guy was in his face with a microphone.

“I'm talking with Calvin Temple,” he said. “Calvin, the judge released you today, and there seems to be some confusion. Was there a confession?”

“No, man, no confession,” Calvin said. “Just a racist cop, that's all. I didn't even do anything. This guy pulled me over. I didn't even do anything, and then they have me going to jail, interrogating me. I'm in court, and I didn't even do anything! No confession. Just a racist cop.”

They dropped all the charges after the investigation and let him off, but his family was pushing for more. They wanted my dad fired.

“This was not an incident,” his mother said on the courthouse steps in the same video. “This is a pattern. We know it, they know it, the records show it. It needs to stop.”

That was a blanket statement on the entire police department. It painted them like a bunch of harassing racists. That wasn't my dad, that wasn't Ricky, or my uncle Joe, he was a cop, too. I opened my laptop and started searching the news sites. The story was a leading article on our local news page.
CHARGES DROPPED AGAINST ACCUSED TEEN INTRUDER
was the headline. I saw Naomi online, so I sent her a message.

11/08 10:20 WalterW1014:
Have you seen the news?

11/08 10:20 NMillz:
? No, whats up?

11/08 10:21 WalterW1014:
There's kind of a mess that my dad's involved in. It's not good.

11/08 10:21 NMillz:
Omg, what is it? Are u okay?

11/08 10:21 WalterW1014:
Can we talk on the phone?

My phone rang a second later. “Hey,” I said. “This is a mess. I feel sick right now.”

I did feel sick, I wanted to throw up. This was bad enough for my dad, but it was going to affect me, too. And probably Naomi. This wasn't about some burglar getting caught anymore.

“What is it?” Naomi asked.

“So remember how I told you my dad caught that kid who was breaking into homes and everything—that was all great. My dad was a hero down at the precinct. But the kid changed his story—like, completely. Not only is he taking his confession away, but they're accusing my dad and the whole police force of all this stuff—like, sick stuff.” I paused. “Race stuff. I'm not even sure what's going on. I mean he's not—”

“Oh my god,” Naomi said.

“I don't even know what happens next,” I said. “This could be really bad. Listen, I know what we said tonight, but honestly, if you want out, I don't blame you at all. This can be really messy, and I don't want you to be a part of it if you think—”

“If I think what?” Naomi asked. “Why would I want out?”

“Because,” I said. The rest of the sentence got stuck in my throat.

“Because I'm black?” Naomi asked.

“I'm just saying you don't have to deal with this if you don't want to,” I said. “Of course I don't want anything to change.”

“Walter, I'm not going anywhere, okay?” Naomi asked. “I agree this is awful, and I hope your dad clears his name, but that's his thing, okay? We're fine. Don't waste any energy on that. I just hope your dad's okay.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Me too.”

We sat in silence for a moment before Naomi spoke again. “You're gonna get through this.”

 

Chapter Eight

 

The hallways were claustrophobic on Wednesday afternoon. One of the football players gave me a nod and a “'sup,” and I didn't know him from a hole in the wall. Maybe he was nodding to Nate, who was right beside me—he knows more people than I do. But he was looking at me—I was sure of it.

This had been happening the past few days. I could have sworn everyone was staring at me in the halls. I was more inclined to watch my feet than make eye contact on the average day, so this could have been normal. Maybe people just looked at you when you passed them in the halls. It was either that or they knew.

I wasn't aware if everyone at school knew that my dad was a police officer. Maybe they did. Maybe they saw the news. Word could be spreading and I wasn't just being looked at but talked about. Maybe I was being paranoid. But maybe not. It was like when Daredevil lost his vision but could suddenly hear every little thing. But if my newfound supersense was an awareness of everyone staring at me and whispering, it was a terrible power to have.

“Walter, you there? I've got another one,” Nate said, walking far too casually for my taste. “Another joy of being single. Kate and I would take my truck to school every morning, and I had to get to her place by six thirty so we could have breakfast together. Do you know how early I had to get up for that? Now I skip first period if I feel like it.”

Nate and I hadn't discussed Naomi since the first time I kissed her. He would be the easiest person to tell. He didn't know Jason or anyone connected to Naomi. I had to run it by her first, though. We still hadn't told anyone what was going on with us, and I didn't want to be the first one to do it. For all I knew, any wrong action at this point could put me right back to where I was a month ago. Alone, trying to memorize all the lyrics to Tupac's “Me Against the World.”