New Kid by Tim Green

Author:Tim Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

47

Brock’s dad flung open the door and pounced.

A shriek echoed in the garage.

“What the . . . ?” Brock’s dad sounded as confused as he did angry. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Nickerson.”

Brock’s stomach clenched at the sound of Nagel’s voice.

“I didn’t think you were home,” Nagel whimpered. “Brock’s my friend.”

Brock rushed into the garage and flipped on the light. “Nagel! What are you doing?”

Spilled out across the garage floor was the broken six-pack of beer cans.

Nagel’s twisted face relaxed a bit. “It was just junk, right, Brock?”

Brock noticed now that his father’s gun was nowhere in sight, and that was a relief.

“Friend?” Brock’s dad had Nagel pinned to the concrete floor with a hand around his upper arm and he looked up at Brock in disbelief. “What junk?”

“Nagel lives a couple blocks away.” Brock tried not to panic. “He’s in my homeroom. He stopped by when I was cleaning the garage. We kind of walked home together.”

Most of that was true, so Brock was able to hold his father’s gaze without looking down.

“Beer?” His father wrinkled his brow and looked around at the scattered cans.

“We found it when we were cleaning up,” Brock said, then stopped.

“It’s not for me, Mr. Nickerson,” Nagel said. “My brother . . . he’s beating on me all the time and I knew he’d like it. I didn’t think anyone cared. Honest.”

Brock’s dad rose up from the floor and set Nagel free. Nagel got up cautiously, unsure of what to do next.

“You get home,” Brock’s dad said. “I don’t want Brock hanging around with . . . someone like you.”

Nagel scrambled out the door like a captured rat set free. Brock stared after him. His father crossed the floor and pulled it shut before turning back to him.

“It’s not easy to make friends, you know.” Brock’s anger suddenly returned.

“Is this really the extent of your judgment?” his father growled right back as he stooped to pick up the wayward cans.

“He’s not a bad kid.” Brock deflated a bit because he knew how bad things looked for Nagel, even in his own mind. Still, there was something . . . redeemable? Isn’t that what they said about empty soda cans? You could redeem them for a nickel. So, they did have value. Brock thought about him and Nagel, just sitting and watching a movie together.

“You know how I feel about friends, anyway.” His father marched past him, tucked the beer cans on the bottom shelf, and walked back into the house.

Brock followed. “Why do we do this? Who doesn’t have friends? Who doesn’t play baseball or have sleepovers? What about college? Can I go to college, or am I living at home then too? Ha! College, right. I bet you can’t fake my school records then anymore, can you? Change my name twice a year. So, what then?”

His father spun on him and grabbed him by the shoulders. “What’s wrong with you? I’m trying to stay alive. What don’t you understand about that?”

Maybe for the first time in his life, Brock held his father’s gaze, despite the danger, the anger, the pain.

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