Page 20 of String Boys

His dad had never forgotten.

Even when he’d been drinking, and Seth had worried, every day, about his father yelling, or sometimes hitting, his father had never forgotten that he had a son. Had never forgotten his wife telling him how to care for his son.

“You’ll forget me,” he blurted. “You’ll forget to eat. To bring food. You’ll forget to go to your meetings and drink. You’ll forget me!”

His dad looked like Seth had shot him in the heart. “Never,” he croaked, eyes squeezed shut. “I swear, Seth. I’ll never forget you. I’llnevergo back to drinking. I promise, if you go away, I’ll always be right here when you need me, okay? I won’t disappear like… like everybody did on me. I swear.”

“No,” Seth whispered, not wanting Chinese food or ice cream or any other bribe. “I have another year and a half. We… we can go for ice cream after performances. We can go to the movies on Saturdays like we always do. Kelly can come listen to me practice.” Oh, he hadn’t meant to say that. “I can play funny songs for his sisters on their birthdays.”

Seth’s Dad nodded and bit his lip, his eyes too bright and rimmed with red.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “That’s our plan for now.” He took a deep breath. “I… I gotta say, Seth, I’m glad I made home safe for you. But I’m so sorry I didn’t do that soon enough for you to trust it would always be here.”

Seth rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. “I just don’t want to go,” he said. “Not now.”

“I hear you.” Dad let out a sigh. “I…. C’mere, kid. I really need a hug.”

Seth did, feeling too tall and too awkward, his hands and feet seeming too big. But his dad stood, and Seth was only two inches shorter than he was, and his shoulders used to seem so big, but Seth’s were almost as wide, and Seth was on the slender side.

Dad was younger. He was smaller. And he was more afraid than Seth had ever dreamed.

Yet somehow this all made him harder to leave.

MR. PANTALONEkept Seth after school for half an hour. Seth was practically dancing in his need to get away, even though Kelly was sitting quietly in the room, doing his homework, apparently not hearing a word.

“Seth, are you sure?”

Oh, Mr. Pantalone was pretty. His name was really weird—he said it was Italian—but his face was narrow and sort of fox-shaped. He had gray eyes with black lashes, and his mouth was even plusher than Kelly’s.

But Seth couldn’t look at him as the man tried to get Seth to leave his home. He could only see Kelly.

Kelly stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth when he was working.

In the third grade, it had been really adorable.

In the sixth grade, it had still been cute.

Now that Kelly was in high school, Seth wanted to kiss his tongue and suck on it, and suck on Kelly’s chin, and his cheeks and—

“Seth!” Mr. Pantalone snapped in exasperation. “Stop mooncalfing over your friend and pay attention! This is your chance to get out of your neighborhood! To get out of this town!”

“I like Sacramento,” Seth said, confused. “Have you ever swam in the river—”

“Kids die in that river!” Mr. Pantalone argued.

“Only sometimes,” Kelly said, without even looking up. “It’s not bad.”

Seth smiled at him, and Kelly looked up and grinned.

“What does it mean?” Kelly asked. “That word you just used. The one about the cow?”

Mr. Pantalone looked confused. “Mooncalfing?”

“Yeah. I’ve never heard that before.”

“It means to sort of space out over, to get distracted by.”

Kelly’s grin lit up the room. “Were you really?” he asked Seth. “Were you really just spacing out on me?”