Kamikaze Boys, Page 3

  Of course this was all a charade. Underneath her Halloween appearance was a normal girl screaming for attention. Not that Connor couldn’t relate, but others had chosen his mask for him. But Riley was okay. At least she was someone he could talk to on breaks.

  Together they trudged into McDonald’s. Connor was heading for the grill when his manager appeared from around it and pointed at his watch. Mike’s appearance matched his insides—tidy, blond, and unforgiving. He would have been handsome if he wasn’t such an asshole. Mike was only a year or two older than Connor, but he acted like he was fifty.

  “Fourth time this month,” Mike said, still pointing at his watch.

  “I didn’t know you were keeping count.” Connor winked. “How sweet!”

  Mike glared at him. “I expect a written explanation as to why you were late. And an apology. You can write it on your next break.”

  He wasn’t kidding. Mike had asked him to do this before, and Connor had complied, because as much as he hated it, he needed this stupid job.

  Mike stood there, staring at Connor and daring him to talk back, until one of the cashiers came over and asked for his help. Mike turned away, leaving Connor to face an industrial-size grill and a cardboard box full of frozen patties. He barely glanced at the order screen. After one year, he knew how many burgers were needed for each hour of the evening. That was a depressing thought, but at least it meant his body could run on automatic while his mind was free to think.

  Those thoughts took the form of David, and his surprise when Connor offered to drive him home every day. Or was he afraid? Maybe tomorrow he wouldn’t be in the parking lot—or if he was, he would walk right past him. Hell, if it wasn’t for Chuck, David probably would have run away to avoid speaking to him. Maybe Connor should send Chuck a thank-you letter and buy him a bouquet of flowers.

  “Are there pickles on a Filet-O Fish?” Riley shouted over the kitchen’s din.

  Connor glanced over at her. “Nope. Just cheese and tartar sauce.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled like Connor had just saved her from a burning building.

  He didn’t return the gesture, turning his attention back to his station. The last couple of days had been the worst. Riley, realizing that Connor wasn’t likely to strangle her or anything equally insane, had been flirting shamelessly. She had absolutely no idea. No one did. Connor could walk right up to someone and announce he was gay, like he had done with Chuck, and no one would believe him. But when someone like David walked down the hall, thoughtful and quiet instead of being a macho asshole, everyone assumed he was gay.

  People were clueless. All they ever went by was appearance and rumor. Riley wasn’t stupid for dressing the way she did. She wanted to be something she wasn’t and understood that all it took was the right costume. She should give David lessons, dress him up in some Satanic gear to scare away the bullies. Hell, maybe Connor should hook them up. It would probably be love at first sight.

  “Number three, Williams!” Mike boomed at him.

  Connor nodded. One of the perks of working at McDonald’s was getting free meals. Smelling the greasy food for hours made the prospect repulsive, but Connor’s treacherous stomach demanded he eat something. Mike always ordered the quarter-pounder meal. Even if plenty of those burgers were on the rack and ready to go, Mike insisted that Connor make his fresh.

  “I got this one,” Connor said, bringing the burger patty to the dressing station.

  Riley moved aside as he threw on all the usual ingredients—ketchup, mustard, diced onions, pickles, cheese. Connor glanced around to make sure they weren’t being watched.

  “Can’t forget the secret sauce,” he said, before quietly hocking the biggest, slimiest loogie he could muster right onto the burger. He added a bit of extra ketchup to help disguise it before smooshing the bun on top.

  Riley covered her mouth, laughing but also looking green beneath her white makeup.

  “Funny,” Connor said. “I’ve been reprimanded four times this month, and Mike’s eaten the secret sauce four times this month. Go figure.”

  When Connor’s shift was over, he pocketed the month’s new Happy Meal toys and headed home, not bothering to change his clothes. When he pulled into the trailer park and parked outside his family’s home, all the windows were dark except for one, flickering with blue light as it always did. Once inside, he found his father sitting in front of the TV, watching some syndicated sitcom he had probably seen before. Connor murmured a greeting, left the Happy Meal toys on the kitchen table where Tommy would find them the next morning, and headed to the bathroom.

  Leaving the light off, he stripped out of his clothes and felt his way to the shower. Once the hot water was coursing over his body, the smell of McDonald’s washing down the drain, he pressed his forehead against the cool tile and sighed. Maybe tomorrow things would finally change.

  Chapter Three

  David spent most of math class watching Chuck from the corner of his eye. He pretended to take notes when the teacher was talking, scrawling doodles instead and waiting for Chuck to make a move. David always felt like he was in a lion’s cage during math (or maybe a gorilla’s cage was more apt), but now the ante had been upped.

  And yet, David felt more relaxed today than he had in a long time. Seeing Connor stand up to Chuck had much to do with that, although David hoped Connor was serious about driving him home. Better the devil you barely knew than the one you knew all too well. Or something like that.

  The bell rang, startling David. Chuck, perhaps sensing his renewed fear, chose then to address him.

  “You’re dead, fag.”

  Really? I don’t feel dead. Or maybe, Yeah, dead sexy!

  Not the best comebacks, but any response would have been better than just standing there. David gathered up his things, delaying just long enough for the teacher to move toward the door.

  Last year a student had brought a gun into school and flipped out after class, waving it around while screaming incoherently. The gun wasn’t loaded, so he only managed to scare everyone, but since then the school had adopted a new policy: Between classes, teachers were to stand outside their classrooms and monitor all activity in the hallway. David didn’t see what use they would be against a loaded gun, but this meant he was mostly safe inside the building.

  Of course people could still push or trip him, and they sometimes did, but no one could beat him up. Once Chuck was out of sight, David wandered to his computer science class. No one bothered him this period, but he often spent it worrying about what would happen after school—stomach churning in fear, wishing he could teleport to the safety of home.

  Today he thought about Connor instead.

  Sometimes he wondered if he had been suckered into some intricate plan to break him down. Maybe Connor and Chuck were in cahoots. As soon as David let down his guard, they would spring their trap. Or maybe Connor’s past had made him an outcast, and he was desperate for a friend. They would make an odd pair—the guy who had done terrible things, and the guy who hadn’t done much of anything.

  By the time computer science was over, David found himself eager to see how the afternoon would play out. He even forgot his fear until he saw Chuck standing by the front door, surrounded by his goons. David stopped, but then forced himself to keep walking. Maybe he could slip outside unnoticed and make a break for Connor’s beat-up old car.

  David had just reached the glass doors when Connor sidled up to Chuck and threw an arm around his neck. For a moment, David thought they really were on the same side, but Chuck’s nervous flinch told him otherwise. Taking a deep drag off his cigarette, Connor blew the smoke in Chuck’s face.

  “There’s my man,” Connor said when he noticed David. His eyes had that crazy, slightly unfocused quality again. “Ready to go for a ride?”

  “What the hell?” Chuck snarled. “Is he paying you or something?”

  The smile fell from Connor’s face, replaced by a nightmare. “Are you calling me a whore?”


  “No.” Chuck pulled away from him. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Good.” Connor gave him a friendly punch to the arm, making Chuck wince, before holding out his half-smoked cigarette. “Here. Hang on to this for me.”

  Chuck took it with hesitation, Connor motioning to David that they should leave. About five seconds later, a teacher noticed Chuck holding the cigarette and came over to lecture him.

  “Thank you,” David said. Had he said that yet? Until now, he hadn’t been sure if Connor was honestly doing him a favor.

  “My pleasure,” Connor said with a grin. He had a very slight underbite, making his chin jut out the tiniest bit. It made him look as cocky as a pit bull, especially when he smiled. “You all right?” he asked when he noticed David staring.

  “Yeah!” David forced himself to look away. “I was just thinking, maybe I should pay you.”

  “Now you’re calling me a whore!”

  David risked a laugh, hoping he had understood right, and was relieved when Connor joined in. “Not a whore, no. More like a bodyguard.”

  “Yeah, maybe. I could wear a pair of shades and always have my finger pressed to my ear, like I’m Secret Service.”

  If only that were possible. David would love to have someone he could call on whenever he was in trouble. “Are we picking up Tommy again?”

  “Yup. Door’s unlocked. Nobody wants to steal this thing, believe me.”

  What David wanted to know, more than anything, was why. Why him? Why now? The only explanation he could think of was that Connor was trying to atone for past sins. Maybe he was born-again or something like that.

  “What do you usually do on weekends?” David asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. If Connor was ultra-religious, he would start talking about church soon enough.

  “When I’m not working? Just hang out. Same stuff everyone else does. You?”

  “Play video games with my friend or sit around reading. Sometimes Dad tries to get to me to do thrilling things around the house, like dusting shelves or scrubbing the toilets. I keep telling him I have a weak heart and can’t stand such excitement.”

  Connor chuckled but didn’t offer any more information about himself. As they pulled into the grade school parking lot, David wished Tommy would turn his endless questions on his brother. Then he could just sit back and enjoy the interview.

  Tommy came pounding down the sidewalk, looking happy to see David again. He practically climbed over David to get to the back, but soon had his body pressed between the front seats so he could talk to them.

  “See my new Transformer?”

  He held it up for David to examine. Small and cheap like a fast food toy, it resembled the yellow car from the movie.

  “You can try it,” Tommy said, shoving it toward him.

  David took it, switching it back and forth between robot and car in a few easy steps.

  “I used to have some of these,” he said, handing the toy back. “Might still have them around somewhere.”

  Tommy’s mouth became an “O,” which made David laugh. He would have to dig through his boxes to see if he could find them.

  “My brother gave me this one,” Tommy said. “I have a huge collection of Happy Meal toys. I think I have every single one.”

  “They’ve been making them since the Stone Age,” Connor said, “so I don’t think you have them all.”

  “Do you eat there a lot?” David asked.

  Connor scoffed. “Are you crazy? No, I just work there.”

  “Oh.”

  “I really do have most of them,” Tommy insisted. “You should come see all my toys.”

  Connor turned to David, his green eyes intense in a different way now. “Yeah, why not?”

  “You mean now?”

  “Yeah. I don’t have to work tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  Tommy cheered and David forced a smile, having no idea what to expect. He had wanted to learn more about Connor, and for better or worse, that wish was about to come true.

  * * * * *

  The trailer park was on the west side of town. David hadn’t known there was such a thing in Olathe and had never been in a mobile home before. The strange thing was, Connor didn’t live near the high school he attended. The city of Olathe had four high schools, two of them much closer to Connor’s home.

  “I’m surprised you don’t go to Olathe North,” David said. “Isn’t it just down the road?”

  “Yeah.” Connor cleared his throat and slowed down for one of the trailer park’s speed bumps. “Mom thought Olathe South was a better school. Plus I was having a hard time up here, and she thought that would help.”

  In other words, he was trying to escape his reputation, but that obviously hadn’t worked.

  David looked out the window at the rows and rows of trailers, each one different. Some were wide and looked fairly cozy, while others appeared to be hammered together out of old siding. The one Connor pulled up to was somewhere in between. It wasn’t a double-wide, but someone cared for the trailer’s appearance and its tiny strip of yard.

  Tommy leapt out of the car after David and dashed inside, the door slamming behind him.

  Connor shook his head. “At least that will wake up Dad.”

  The same dad Connor had attempted to kill? David was having an increasingly hard time believing these legends. Inside the trailer was dark, which was probably nice on a hot summer day. The front door led to the living room, which spread out to the right. To the left was a small kitchen and dining area. The way the kitchen was decorated, with little feminine touches his father would never consider, made David yearn to have his mom around again.

  From the television an audience booed at a woman’s loud-mouthed rant on stage. Facing the daytime talk show was a pair of recliners. One was occupied, the table next to it cluttered with prescription medicine bottles.

  Connor led him in front of the recliner where an overweight, balding man sat.

  “Dad, this is my friend David. David, this is my dad.”

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” David said.

  Connor’s father smiled and nodded but didn’t seem compelled to make conversation. Instead he turned back to the talk show.

  Making an agitated noise, Connor shook his head. “Let’s go in my room before Tommy has a heart attack.”

  Down a short hallway were two doors, only one open. Tommy was inside, slowly scooping the contents of a toy box on the floor. The décor was schizophrenic. On one side were the trappings of a child: toys, Pixar posters, and a little drawing desk covered in crayons and an old laptop. The other side of the room was much less childish. A dresser nearly exploded with clothes, on it a stereo that still took cassettes as well as CDs. Above them both a battered acoustic guitar hung on the wall. Twin-sized beds rested against opposite walls, confirming that Tommy and Connor shared this room.

  “Told you I had a lot!” Tommy said.

  “You’re making a mess!” Connor complained, stuffing some of the clothes back into the dresser drawers. “Sorry. It’s always like this.”

  “Look at this one!” A plastic dinosaur with light-up eyes was shoved in David’s face. For the next ten minutes, he was subjected to a year’s worth of show-and-tell presentations.

  “Tommy,” Connor said finally, “why don’t you show Greg the new Transformers you got. Most of those aren’t supposed to be given away until later this month.”

  Mercifully, Tommy agreed. He gathered up the toys in question and left the room, the trailer’s front door slamming shut after him.

  “Let the neighbors deal with him,” Connor said as he bent to put the toys away.

  David was soon on his knees, helping shovel countless fast-food premiums back into the toy chest. He was close enough to Connor that their shoulders bumped a couple of times. The faint aroma of cigarettes came from him, a scent David normally didn’t enjoy. But somehow it smelled masculine on Connor, almost like musky cologne.

  Once they were finished,
Connor sat on his bed and gestured for David to take a seat on Tommy’s.

  “Not the most luxurious accommodations,” he said.

  David smiled. “It’s fine, really.”

  “So you’re a junior, right?”

  “Yeah.” Could Connor tell just by looking at him, or did he ask around? Then again, David knew Connor was a senior without really remembering how. He asked anyway, just to appear casual.

  “Yeah, I’m a senior. Just a couple more weeks to freedom. I’m long overdue, since I was held back a year.”

  David’s eyes dropped to the scar on Connor’s neck. He averted them immediately, but Connor had noticed.

  “Look, if you want to know, just ask. It’s not a secret.”

  “Sorry,” David said, but Connor didn’t reply, waiting for him to say more. “Is any of it true?”

  “What they say about me?” Connor shook his head. “My dad used to work in a factory, really early shifts, which meant he would drink sooner than most people. Noon was like night for him, so a lot of the time when I came home from school, he would already be drunk. He handled it well. Dad wasn’t one of those loud or abusive assholes. He just liked to unwind. Anyway, we were out of everything one day, and I was starving, so I talked him into bringing me to the store.”

  “He drove you when he was drunk?”

  Connor nodded, his expression defensive. “We all make mistakes. We were going through a four-way stop on Ridgeview Road, up where it’s pretty narrow and hilly, when some guy goes barreling through without stopping. Dad hit the breaks, but a couple seconds too late, and the other car hit us so hard that we spun into a ditch and flipped.”

  “The whole car flipped?”

  “Yeah.” Connor absentmindedly rubbed the scar on his neck. “The other car smashed into Dad’s side and messed him up pretty bad. Our car was an old Plymouth Roadrunner, and I guess the plastic dashboard got pretty brittle over the years since part of it shattered on impact. A shard went through my neck, but by some miracle it didn’t sever an artery. I got some other nicks too.”