Clay's Way Read Free Page A

mind and send him a telepathic message:
    Ask me to hang out with you.
    Remember me from when I was in your room.
    Ask me to be your best friend and go away with you to be naked.
    I’ll just take what I’ve got in my pack. 
    That’s all I need.
                  “So, where do you guys skate?”
                  Jared hands me the joint.  “The old folks’ home behind McPoison’s.”
                  I give the joint back to Clay, trying again to feel the heat from his hand on mine.  “Keolu School, when it’s not crowded.  They’ve got a great railing and some steps.”
                  Marcus sticks his head out the door.  “Bro, you gotta phone call.”
                  “Thanks man.”  Clay gives him a  shaka  hand sign.  He looks funny and stoned and I can tell that if we were alone, we could laugh and hang out and have a great time together.  He hands me the joint and punches me lightly on the shoulder.  “Keep it, brah.  I’ve got my own supply.”
    “Thanks.”
                   Don’t go.  Don’t go.  This is the most fun I’ve had in years, maybe   ever,   the most stimulated I’ve been in my whole life.   I feel like climbing the nearest telephone pole and cutting the wires.
                  “Yup.  Laterz.  See you arounds.”  He turns and just stares at me—maybe because he’s so stoned.
                  I stare back.  “OK... aloha.”   
                  Something flies in the air between us that I’ve never experienced before—like waves of nuclear electricity.  It’s powerful.  I’m amazed I can’t see it.  If the energy was harnessed, it could power all of Tokyo.  It’s a universal force.  Stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. He karate-chops the air, then runs inside, almost tripping on a board that’s lying on the floor in the back room.
                  “He’s cool.  I told you.” 
    Jared’s so naive sometimes.  Cool isn’t half of it.
                  “I gotta go, man.  I have to mow my parents’ lawn.”  I’m lying so I can have some time alone to think about Clay.
                  “I thought we were gonna get stoned.”
                  “We’re already stoned.” 
                  Jared’s useless now.
                  I  miss Clay already.  I skate home as fast as I can, anxious to run to my room and come while thinking of him.  At the front door I reach into my pocket for my key.  “Fuck.”  I must’ve lost it again. I walk around the house and check all the doors and windows.  No luck.    Like we’ve got anything good to steal anyway. 
                    My fucking parents keep locking my window like they’re these robots that do nothing else but lock. They know I use it more than the front door. For awhile I look for a hidden key that has never existed, fooling   myself   into thinking it’s still possible.
                    Next I walk around the house to the back porch--which is green with moss because it never dries--and drag a chair into the lawn so I can lie in the sun.  I’ll get a little tan so I look better the next time I see Clay.  Maybe I’ll fall asleep and dream about him.  I see my mom’s bright-orange cat behind my reflection in the dining room window.  He’s rubbing against the glass all cat-like like he’s stoked to get some action.  It’s gross.  I hate the sexuality of cats.
                    I walk up to the   window,   like there’s any chance in hell he could actually help me.  “Get the fucking key, you dumbass cat.”  I flick the glass and he runs away.
                    I throw my backpack down and go back and lie down in my mom’s chaise lounge.  The sun’s really hot.  I sweat and smell myself, and I think about