BAE BOY

2-5

Wattpad refuses to obey video URLs that start where I ask, so to save time, go to about :42 and watch solely the dinorobot part for now--better yet, watch on YouTube, widescreen.  Then imagine a whole auditorium full of hyped up teens being bombarded with this. It's the act the "outlier" kids at Colt's school have asked to include in the big prom day extravaganza he's financing for DeGrazia High, which will close its doors forever at the end of the school year. This show might be the next best thing to a wrecking ball...

The last thrill of that island trip is a feeling I had, behind the wheel of that sick cigarette boat I told you about. JJ let the brave amongst us take turns trying to tame that thing.

What a rush.

Skimming over sea like some kind of massive mythical water bird. Surging and splitting waves at hundreds of miles an hour. The rest of the world a blur, a rooster tail plume of spray jetting out behind you and shooting spray everywhere.

It's my "pedal to the metal" memory. Whenever I know I need to hit it hard, get my mind up to warp speed, I close my eyes and take hold of the wheel. Steer it left, feel the boat lean into the turn. Steer it right, feel the boat lean into the turn.

And then I slowly straighten the wheel. Accelerate a little more a little more...a little more...until I feel like the whole boat is going to lift off like a jet.

When I feel that rush, I'm ready. For anything.

Even to walk into Wyatt's room the day after I got back, an hour before school actually started. Probably an hour after she'd gotten there.

The good teachers are always early. They prepare for all the little crazy shit that throw them off balance if they don't have Plan B. Maybe even Plan C and Plan D.

You can't rely on old stuff you've used for years. Worksheets you saved up since the 50s. The world moves almost as fast as the cigarette boat now. The wise ones are up with the sun. Flying as fast as they can.

But they pay for it. She'd taught me that, too. Something behind those eyes. And how she ran that day, from us. Afraid to land for too long.

She paused when she saw me. She was at her desk, typing on her computer and her fingers stopped moving. And those eyes got a little wary. They were still a little sleepy, too. Like she wasn't completely there yet.

I was kind of sorry I'd interrupted. It was her re-entry time, you know? That trance you're in for a while in the morning, when you're sort of still in heaven, trying to touch down. Like a plane breaking through the clouds on the way back down to earth.

So I kept my voice kind of quiet and just said, "Hey..."

And she smiled a little bit. But didn't answer, except with her eyes. They let me in.

So I said, "I've been worrying about the prom, but things have been a little crazy."

"I was worried," she said. "I've been getting these alerts online about the units you missed. But of course, for you that's not quite as serious as it could be."

"I'm going to talk to my counselor about that today. There's...well, my whole life is just...I dunno. But I'm going to need your help with a lot of it, actually. I mean, I know what you said—you don't have to work with me, necessarily."

Her eyes changed. Like she was remembering the last few times we'd met. As if she'd spaced it on purpose, until I said that.

I think she lived in that world between. Always just a little bit above reality. Hovering, trying not to let gravity pull her all the way down.