But there was one thought I couldn’t outrun.
“You know there’s a real chance that I won’t be playing this season, right?”
“It’s your senior year, Dean. We’re gonna be co-captains.”
“I know,” I said. “But when my mother wins the election, we’ll be moving to Washington, DC. She’s already introduced me to the baseball coach at the school I’ll be attending and selected my classes, and I’ve looked into a mentoring program where I can volunteer.”
The probability of my mother winning the election had gone up slightly since the debate. Mr. Rosario was magnetic when he was given the space to speak at length, but debates were an area where my mother excelled. Not only did she come armed with facts, but she understood how to deliver them in concise, devastating shots. During her first gubernatorial debate, a newspaper reporter had noted my mother’s uncanny ability to slide in a kill shot right before she ran out of time, creating perfect sound bites and viral video clips.
Each side had declared their candidate the winner, and different media sites had provided legitimate analyses of why one candidate had won over the other, and while Mr. Rosario had done well, a week later people were still talking about my mother.
Tamal grunted. “Trying not to think about that, Dean.”
“It’s difficult for me to not think about it.”
“You could stay with me,” he said. “You know my folks would go for it. At least so you can finish out senior year.”
I didn’t bother arguing with Tamal because we both knew it wasn’t his parents I’d need to convince. There was no way my mother would let me live with Tamal and miss the opportunity to present the Arnaults as the perfect first family.
“Wait,” Tamal said. “Does that mean Astrid’s going to be class prez if you go?”
“She’s class vice president,” I said. “So, yes. She would take over.”
“Oh.”
“Why?”
“No reason.” Tamal glanced at me and stumbled, grabbing the railings to keep from being thrown back against the wall. He cleared his throat when he was running steadily again. “What do you think of her? Astrid, I mean.”
I shrugged. “She’s a good vice president, editor of the school paper, and she’s on the debate team. I think she’ll be a good president.”
Tamal was avoiding looking at me, which was strange. “I mean, personally.”
It took me a moment for the clues to click into place. “You like Astrid?”
Red bloomed across Tamal’s cheeks. “Kinda, yeah. She’s smart and cute, and I was thinking I might ask her to homecoming.”
I held up my hands. “I’m certainly not judging, but homecoming is less than two weeks away. Why have you waited so long?”
“Oh, well, my sister heard Astrid was getting back together with her ex, and I didn’t want to get in the middle of all that, but then Nadiya said the ex was toast and I should make my move. Only, you never have a date to these things and we always kind of go as a team, but maybe since you’re not gonna be around . . .”
Following Tamal’s circuitous explanation took a bit of effort. “I’m going to be here for homecoming.”
“But what about after?” he asked. “I know it’s not your fault, but I have to start taking care of myself, you know? I won’t ask her if you don’t want me to, though. We can hit homecoming together, you and me one last time. You might be abandoning me, but you’re still my best friend.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. My mother hadn’t won the election, but Tamal was already making plans like I wasn’t going to be in his life. And he was right to do so. Until Election Day, my life was on hold. I couldn’t commit to anything too far in the future, and my friends couldn’t rely on me. It was one more reason to resent my mother for running, but it was difficult to resent her for doing something she believed in, even if it did complicate my life.
Sometimes we had to make sacrifices for the people we loved. “I think you should ask Astrid to homecoming,” I said. “And I think you should do it now.”
Tamal was looking at me with big bug eyes. “Like, right now?”
“You have to give the girl time to find a dress.”
I watched as Tamal paused the treadmill, got his phone, and called Astrid. He talked to her nearly every day, and yet he kept fumbling over his words now like she was a total stranger.
“She said yes!” Tamal practically squealed, which was endearing. As he started jogging again, a couple of guys nearby threw him a look and shook their heads, but they wisely kept their thoughts to themselves.
“Was there ever any doubt?”
Tamal looked happier than I’d seen him since lunch. He really liked lunch. And dinner. Meals in general.
“Let me hook you up with someone,” he said. “Then we can still go together. A double date. You could drive, and we could take the girls to that fancy French place, Chaleur.”
I had to put the brakes on Tamal before he planned out the entire night. “I’ve got to do the whole royal court thing, which will keep me busy, and you know I’m not much of a dancer.”
“Unlike me.”
“Tamal,” I said. “You are my best friend, my brother, my personal computer genius, and you bake a heck of a cake, but you are not a good dancer.”
“Says you.”
“Says everyone.” I ignored Tamal when he rolled his eyes like he couldn’t be bothered with the truth about his dancing. “But we can still go as a group. I’ll drive and pick you up.”
“Like my own private chauffer?”
“No.”
“I feel bad you flying solo.”
“Don’t,” I said. “It doesn’t bother me.”
Tamal’s eye caught something on one of the TVs mounted in front of the treadmills. It was me. Well, it was me and my mother and father, and the Rosarios. One of the photos from the debate. We all looked suitably composed and were smiling as if we might have been close friends under different circumstances. Maybe we still could be. Stranger things had happened. Like the unlikely friendship between George W. Bush and Michelle Obama.
“You met the Rosario kid, right?”
“I did.”
“And? What’s he like?”
Trying to find a way to describe Dre was like trying to describe the feeling of finally scratching an itch in the center of your back that’s been bothering you for hours. Amazing, but also weird because scraping at your skin with your nails or a wooden spoon or whatever you can find that will reach the spot shouldn’t feel so good. “He was all right,” I said. “Excitable and odd, but generally nice.”
“Seems like the kind of kid who’d cause a lot of trouble living in the White House.”
A smile crept up on me. “He does, doesn’t he?”
“What’d you guys talk about while you were holed up in the greenroom?” It had been impossible to hide that there had been a security scare before the debate, especially since it had caused the broadcast to start later than planned, and I’d already told Tamal about it.
“Not much, really. We mostly just talked to keep from worrying about what was going on. We didn’t know if there was a bomb or if someone had been shot. I’ve been through scares like that before—not that it’s ever easy—but it was Dre’s first time. He held it together surprisingly well. Better than I did my first time.”