Big Guy Read Free Page A

am grinning again, playing around, almost forgetting for a moment that noneof this is going to happen. Then it hits me again like a wall of ice, hard and cold and inevitable. God.
    I can’t tell him not to come. I can’t do it.
    And I know I don’t have a choice.
    I stare at the computer for a few seconds, trying to find it in me to keep chatting and goofing around like everything is okay. Like nothing is wrong.
    The front door opens and slams closed.
    ethan?
I type, my fingers suddenly slow and awkward on the keyboard.
dad’s home. ttyl
    I grab my leather jacket off the back of my door, check that my car keys are in the pocket. Time to go.
    Dad glares at me as I walk by. “Where are you going?”
    â€œOut.”
    He snorts, turns on the television and sits down on the couch. Conversation over. He’s never been a big talker, but since Mom took off it’s like he’s forgotten how. Fine by me. When he does talk, it’s usually just to give me a lecture.
    Down at the bar—the only one in town—I see some of the guys I went to school with. Mason and Todd. We used to work together at the A & P.
    â€œHey hey,” Mason drawls, lifting one hand in a mock salute. His red hair is buzzed short, his large nose still red from a bad sunburn a few months back. “Come and join us, big guy.”
    I shrug. “Yeah, okay.” Everyone’s called me that since about sixth grade. I’ve always been tall. Since I got fat, though, I’ve started to hate that nickname. I slap some money down on the bar and carry a pint over to their table. Technically, I’m underage, but no one ever gets ID’d here.
    Todd’s girlfriend is with them. Carrie. She’s tiny and sharp-featured. With her puffed-up hair and startled brown eyes she looks like one of those toy poodles.
    She loops her arm through Todd’s and smiles up at me. “Hey, Derek.”
    Todd puts his beer down and looks at me, thick eyebrows raised. “So,” he says, “I hear you got a new job.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œAnd?”
    I shrug. “It’s okay.”
    â€œOkay? You give up a chance to bag groceries with us for a job that’s just okay?” His skinny face is creased with laughter. “Come on. What do you have to do? Help people with Old-Timer’s find the dining room?”
    I nod, take a long drink of cold beer. “Yeah, basically.” I glance around and my eyes fall on the pool table. I dig in my pocket and come up with a dollar. “Who’s up for a game?”
    The evening passes in a blur of jukebox oldies, rounds of beer, games of pool won and lost. Thoughts are bouncing around in my head: Ethan. That photo I sent. His plan to visit. And that woman, Aaliyah—I keep thinking about her too, wondering what happened to her. I order another beer and push the thoughts aside. When we finally stagger out into the rain, it’s past midnight. A river of brown water rushes along the gutter and Iswear aloud as I step in it, soaking my foot to the ankle as I fumble to find my car keys.
    â€œYou sure you’re okay to drive?” Todd asks me.
    â€œFine,” I say.
    Todd looks worried and glances at Carrie, who is clinging wetly to his arm. “I didn’t realize you had your car, man. You had a lot to drink. I mean, you know, you don’t usually...”
    I sit down heavily in the driver’s seat, start the car, flick on the wipers. “It’s cool. I’m fine. Give you guys a ride if you want.”
    Todd looks at me, brow furrowed. Then he looks back at Carrie. “No, we’re good, we’ll get a cab.” He waves. “All right, big guy. See you.”
    I head straight down King Street, through downtown. Traffic is a snarled mess. Half the streetlights aren’t working, and power seems to be out in some parts of town. I turn on the radio, sing along to an old Rolling Stones song, my voice loud and out of