“You’ll have to show me what you write,” she smiled. “I’d like to read it.”
“Nothing I’ve written has been good enough yet,” I said grimly. “It’s so hard to come up with ideas.”
“I’m sure if you put your mind to it you’ll get there in the end,” she said. “Let’s see some of that determination I know you’ve got.”
“It’s better now, isn’t it, Mom?” I said. “It’s like everything’s calmed down a bit.”
It’s Dad’s job to pick up Wills in the morning because the school is close to where he works. The first two days were a nightmare. Wills didn’t want to go. He refused to get out of bed, then shut himself in the bathroom, then said they would have to make him go naked because he wasn’t going to get dressed. But his protests didn’t last long, even though I knew from his frequent text messages that he had struggled at first. He said he was in a class of donkeys who hadn’t got a clue how to behave themselves. He said that even I was brighter than most of them (thanks for the compliment), and that even I was better at basketball than most of them (thanks again). He complained about the food as well, saying that it was all that healthy garbage that wusses like.
Dad brings Wills back home again in the evening. I was amazed that he had agreed to do it, but I guessed he was just trying to do his part like everyone else. I was a bit jealous at first, because it meant that Wills got to see more of Dad than I did, but I couldn’t really complain since I had Mom to myself more often than Wills did.
Wills has been picked for the school basketball team and he now has games on Saturday afternoons. Dad takes him to those as well and stays to support him. Suddenly, I seem to have so much time and so much space and it’s SO QUIET. I can watch sports on the TV and see every goal and every pass and every touchdown and every run. I can play racing games, and it’s not so bad losing to computer-generated bikes. I can disappear up to my room and do some reading or writing without being disturbed.
But I still like going to the library. I was so glad that Penny still wanted me to go there, and that she hasn’t lumped me together with Wills because of what has happened.
“How’s life with less of Wills?” she asked me when I went in there for the first time after Wills had changed schools.
“Dull,” I chuckled, “but it’s nice to have Mom to myself sometimes. And I’ve got more time for reading, so I’ll need to borrow more books.”
“You’ll have more time for writing as well,” said Penny.
“It’s so hard to know what to write about.”
“If all else fails,” she said, “write about yourself.”
“That would be the most boring story ever,” I frowned.
“You’d be surprised,” Penny argued. “Don’t you put yourself down, young man. You leave that to Wills.”
As soon as I was fit enough again, I began to stay after school to play soccer, since I didn’t have to get home early to keep an eye on Wills. I even go to play at the scrap yard. Everyone wanted me to tell them every gory detail of what had happened there. The door of the building has been boarded up again, but the boys press against it, hoping to be able to peer through and see the hole in the ceiling. It made me feel like a bit of a celebrity, until Jack brought me down to earth with a punch by saying I was a fool to go in there in the first place.
Some weekends, if Wills doesn’t have a basketball game, he stays at home to spend time with Mom and I go to Dad’s on my own. We sit in his cocoon and shout at the television together, not so loud that there’s a thumping on the ceiling, but loud enough to make us feel that we are there in the crowd at the game. We clean his car together, then go to the park to kick a ball around, and I’m careful not to bowl him over. I haven’t been back to basketball on Sunday mornings. I don’t want to. I’d only gone in the first place because of Wills. There’s no need anymore, and I was never going to be better than average. Besides, I couldn’t bear to see the other boys on the team again. They would lump me together with Wills, I am sure of it, so I would always be blamed for losing the tournament.
Wills went on a school trip for a week, the first time a school had ever agreed to take him. It was some sort of outward bound thing, and I didn’t envy him at all. The house was so unbelievably quiet that it got to the point where I couldn’t wait to have Wills back. Mom spent the week on pins and needles, waiting for the telephone call that would mean she had to bring him home early.
The telephone call didn’t come and at the end of the week. Dad went to collect him. When we heard the car drive up, Mom and I rushed to the front door and waved. Wills charged up the path, swung Mom around in a big circle, punched me in the arm, and demanded, “What’s to eat, Mom? I’m starving,” before running into the kitchen and raiding the fridge.
Dad stood on the front doorstop, beads of sweat pooling on his forehead.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Mom smiled.
“I would die for one,” puffed Dad.
Wills had already plunked himself in front of the
