followed me into the house. I kicked off my shoes and he did the same. I led him down the hall and into the kitchen. Kia andMark were already sitting at the table, a partially drunk glass of milk and an empty muffin wrapper in front of each of them. They were already working on seconds.
âAre there any left, you pigs?â I asked.
Kia started oinking and Mark chuckled.
âDonât worry, I baked three dozen,â my mother said. Her back was to us.
âMom, Iâd like you to meet somebody,â I said.
She turned around and gave Ashton a big smile.
âMom, this is Ashton.â
He rushed over and held out his hand to shake. âPleased to meet you, maâam.â
âYou have wonderful manners,â my mother said, and I thought how he didnât greet any of us that way.
âThank you, maâam,â he said. âMy mother always insists that me and my brothers formally address adults.â
âNow, you and Nick wash your hands and Iâll have a nice big glass of milk and a muffinââ
â
A
muffin?â I asked, cutting her off.
âOkay, a few muffins waiting for you.â
I hurried over to the kitchen sink with Ashton in tow.
âThose muffins really smell fantastic, maâam,â he said as he began to wash his hands.
âThank you. And they taste even better than they smell. Right, Kiaâ¦right, Mark?â
They both mumbled out agreement through a mouthful of muffin.
âSo, Ashton, do you go to school with Kia and Nick?â my mother asked.
âNo, maâam. I go to Brookmeade.â
âBrookmeade? Thatâs not even close to here,â she said.
âItâs no farther than Markâs school,â I said. Kia and I went to the same school, but Markâs school was halfway across the city.
âIf you donât go to school together, how did you get to know these kids?â she asked.
âPlaying basketball,â I said, answering for him. âYou know how it is. Every kid who plays ball is a friend with every other kid.â For some reason I didnât want her to know that weâd just met twenty minutes ago.
âI see,â she said. She had that look like she was getting ready to think of her next question.It wasnât that my mom was nosy, but she was a reporter for the local paper and liked asking questions. Actually, come to think of it, she was a reporter, but she also was sort of nosy. She always knew everybody and everything about their lives.
âAnd you should see Ashton play,â Kia added.
âHeâs got incredible ball skills,â I agreed.
âBetter than you three?â my mother asked.
âHeâs got some great moves,â I said.
âThen maybe he should try out for your team,â she suggested.
âHeâs too old,â I said.
âToo old?â my mother questioned. âBut doesnât Brookmeade only go to grade five?â
âYeah,â Ashton said. âIâm in grade five.â
âYou are?â I asked in astonishment. âAre you supposed to be in grade five?â
âWhat do you mean by that?â he asked. He sounded irritated.
âItâs just that youâre pretty big,â I said. âI just thought that because youâre so big that maybeâ¦maybe⦠â
âThat maybe I failed a grade?â he asked.
I nodded.
âIâm exactly where Iâm supposed to be,â he said. âIâve never failed anything in school, ever.â
âI didnât mean anything bad,â I said. âItâs just that youâre bigger than anybody in our whole school whoâs in grade five.â
âWhat grade are you three in?â
âWeâre all in grade five,â Kia said.
âAnd youâre all supposed to be in grade five?â he asked.
âOf course weâre supposed to be in grade five,â she answered.
âThen youâre all in