“People can surprise you.”
He looks at Alice, searching her face for any scars from her accident. But he can’t see any. It’s like the car accident never happened. But he knows it did. “They sure can,” he replies.
“Food’s almost ready!” Mr. Ashford shouts.
“Guess we better get out,” James says.
“Good, I’m starving,” Alice says.
They both climb out of the pool, and Alice tiptoes across the hot cement and over to the grill to pick her burger. James walks to the lounge chair where his towel rests in the sun. He starts to dry off and he freezes there, taking in the scene: Alice holding her paper plate, somehow at ease around these people who used to be strangers; Nathen, standing with his hands on his hips, a towel draped around his neck; Suzy, running her hands through her sun-baked hair; Clare in her red bikini, standing by her father with a fork, trying to be the helpful hostess; and Alex, his arms clasped across his chest, looking at Nathen with what James can only describe as affection.
Later, as the sun starts to set, Nathen drives the two of them home. They listen to the radio without talking, feeling content but also zapped of energy by the long day in the sun.
“Call me later,” Nathen says to both of them when he drops them at their curb. The three of them have plans to watch a movie together tonight. He honks his horn as he drives off.
James checks the mailbox—he’s expecting some summer orientation packets from Duke—but it’s empty, meaning Mom or Dad must have gotten it already. Before walking to the door, he notices Alex stealing a glance across the street. Henry and his mother left over a week ago, packing their car with boxes and suitcases and anything else that would fit. He and Alex waved to Henry as they drove down the street, out of a sight.
“I keep expecting to see Henry sitting on the curb,” Alex says.
“I know,” James says.
“They should be in Charlotte by now.”
“Probably.”
They both pause, taking in the sight of Henry’s empty house, the yard that is sprouting summer weeds. There is no For Sale or For Rent sign posted yet. Maybe it will remain empty for a while.
“I hope he meets some new friends,” Alex says.
“I’m sure he will,” James says. After all, he thinks, Henry met Alex, he met me. They were friends, weren’t they? “He’ll be fine.”
The two of them continue standing there. It’s nearly dark now. He listens to the heavy chirping of crickets, seemingly everywhere, making their music. A few lightning bugs fly around the yard, creating little explosions of yellow. He and Alex used to spend summer nights chasing them around the yard barefoot, cupping them in their hands and then putting them in a jar, the top punctured with holes to allow them to breathe. They used to compete, to see who could capture the most. As if he is having the same exact memory, Alex starts chasing one of the bugs around, his hands cupped in preparation.
James closes his eyes. He thinks of the summer ahead. All year long, he has been impatient to start a new life, to get away from here. But now, he wishes he could slow things down. Suddenly, he’s in no rush to go anywhere.
Acknowledgments
Even though writing is mostly a solitary pursuit, this novel would not have been possible without the help, encouragement, and support of many people through the years.
I owe a huge thanks to a great writer and teacher, A. Manette Ansay. Thanks for sharing your wisdom and for believing in me from the very beginning. I also want to thank a few other wonderful teachers who inspired and nourished my love for the written word: Janice Winokur, Tim Richardson, Bill Engel, and the late Nancy Walker.
Thanks to the creative writing department at the University of Florida for providing time and space when I was a young and clueless neophyte. Mike Magnuson, in particular, provided invaluable instruction—and quite a few laughs. I also thank Erin Page and Diane Zinna, immensely talented writers, for helping make the Gainsville years a lot brighter. Finally, much thanks to the Henfield Foundation for providing an early shot in the arm (as well as a few bucks).
My friends in Austin were always there to listen and talk (often over margaritas), to make me laugh, and to help keep my chin up. Thanks to all of you, especially Scott Landry, Taylor Andrews, Richard Lewis, Becky Shore, Jason Morris, Melissa Tullos, and Maria Hong. Amanda Eyre Ward deserves a special call-out for years of pointed comments, kind words, and much-needed cheerleading. And lastly, thanks to Clay Smith for his friendship, for his support of the written word, and for giving me the guts to move to New York City.
In New York, I have been blessed to know so many talented and amazing people, all of whom have made finishing this novel much easier. A few people need to be singled out. Helen Ellis, fellow Tuscaloosan and novelist, has been a mentor from day one, always pushing me to productivity and waving me to the finish line. Amy Chozick is the best friend anyone could have—thanks for always being there, even when you were thousands of miles away; I can’t wait for
your
novel. A heartfelt thanks to Ed Wintle for always inspiring me and for never failing to offer words of encouragement and generosity. Thanks to everyone at Vintage/ Anchor for making the workplace feel like a second home—as well as a place that enriches and encourages creativity. Finally, as I wrote this novel, these friends shared their thoughtful, helpful, and much-appreciated comments and suggestions: Katie Freeman, Jenny Jackson, Kate Runde, Lisa Weinert, and Jason Wells.
Thanks to the brilliant and glamorous Rob Mandolene for so generously sharing his artistry. I’m thrilled to know you.
George Nicholson, my agent, is a dream come true. Thanks for taking me on and for teaching me so much along the way. I feel honored to be your client and your friend.
Jodi Keller at Delacorte Press has blown me away with her editorial brilliance. I can’t thank her enough for her thorough and tireless attention to my manuscript—and for helping me make this book the best that it could be. Indeed, I want to thank the entire Delacorte Press/Random House team, especially Beverly Horowitz and Michelle Poploff, for standing behind this book, and Vikki Sheatsley, for her wonderful cover.
In the end, I’d be nowhere without the love and support of my family, especially Mom, Dad, Avery, Eric, Julie, and Ethan. I can’t adequately express how much you all mean to me. All I know is that the world would be a much better place if every person grew up and lived his life surrounded by such love, support, tolerance, patience, and, yes, weirdness. You guys are amazing.
About the Author
M
ARTIN
W
ILSON
was born in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. He received a B.A. from Vanderbilt University and an MFA from the University of Florida, where one of his short stories won a Henfield/Transatlantic Review Award. He lives in New York City. This is his first novel.
Published by Delacorte Press an imprint of Random House Children’s Books a division of Random House, Inc. New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2008 by Martin Wilson
Chapter 1 was first published in slightly different form under the title “Alone for the Weekend” by
Rush Hour
in the Summer 2006 issue #4 (“Reckless”).
All rights reserved.
Delacorte Press and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wilson, Martin.
What they always tell us / Martin Wilson.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Sixteen-year-old Alex feels so disconnected from his friends that he starts his junior year at a Tuscaloosa, Alabama, high school by attempting suicide, but soon, a friend of his older brother draws him into cross-country running and a new understanding of himself.
[1. Social isolation—Fiction. 2. Brothers—Fiction. 3. Self-actualization (Psychology)—Fiction. 4. High schools—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction. 6. Homosexuality—Fiction. 7. Family life—Alabama—Fiction. 8. Tuscaloosa (Ala.)—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.W6972Wha 2008 [Fic]—dc22 2007030269
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
eISBN: 978-0-375-84892-6
v3.0