Page 6 of The Fix

It had taken Rex three hours to make the trek home from Hollis Barclay’s mansion nearly fifteen miles away in the opulent neighborhood of Palisades Park.

He’d known going to the party meant missing his bus, but it was the first one he’d ever been invited to, and so he’d planned on ordering an Uber once he’d walked a mile or two in the direction of his house on the other side of town.

But he’d had this energy flowing through him, and he’d wanted to move , to stay lost in his own head.

And so he’d walked, and three hours had felt more like thirty minutes, Cami Cortlandt’s smile keeping him company the whole way home.

You’re Rex, right? God, the way those three words had made him feel like the king of the world.

So ridiculous.

Stupid.

Pathetic.

And true.

He’d felt more than that—as they’d talked, he’d felt this ... connection. Something he’d never experienced before, even if he had no frame of reference to describe what it was.

There was a good chance, however, that it was all in his mind.

A guy could still dream.

But Rex was no stranger to dreaming about Cami.

He’d been doing that since he’d first transferred to the middle school she attended and then on to Westridge Academy, thanks to a government-run program that sought to give poor kids with a minority heritage and good test scores a chance to take the AP classes not available at their district schools.

He’d first caught sight of Cami across the classroom when he was a gawky preteen.

That was it, that was all it took, one glance of her side profile as she’d gazed out the window at the sprinkler on the south lawn, which was making rainbows dance in the morning air.

He’d seen her daydreaming so many times since that first day. Sometimes—though he’d never tell a soul—he fantasized that she was thinking about him.

She was nice to him—she smiled when they passed in the hallway; she held the door if she was in front of him.

And yet today was the first time he’d said a word to her.

And that was only because she’d practically stumbled into him.

But it was that five-minute conversation that had sealed the deal for Rex.

Camille Cortlandt was a beautiful dreamer, and she was nice to people she didn’t have to be nice to.

But she was also smart and funny and engaging, and she’d looked at him like she cared what he said in return.

And he wasn’t even sure he was happy about the discovery because, while it was one thing to have a crush on the gorgeous, untouchable head cheerleader, it was another thing to like her.

Her. Not the image, not his fantasy, but her .

The screen door squeaked closed behind him as he entered the small rental where he and his mom lived.

He was starving both from his walk and because it was long past dinner.

He’d been too shy to approach the food table and grab himself a hot dog at the party—not to mention he’d seen the guy grilling drop them on the ground and pick them right back up.

Rex headed straight to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and sighed as he looked over the meager offerings, finally taking out the milk. He closed the fridge door with his foot and grabbed a box of cereal from the cabinet.

He stood against the sink and scooped Frosted Flakes into his mouth, knowing they were devoid of nutrition. Hollis Barclay would probably never put anything so unhealthy into his muscled physique. Hollis Barclay, who got to put his hands on Cami whenever he wanted.

He turned and dropped the bowl in the sink filled with dirty dishes, chewing the final bite that suddenly tasted like sweetened sawdust. “Wash your dish.”

He turned to see his mom walking into the kitchen, lighting a cigarette as she entered the room. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, yourself. Where’ve you been?”

“One of the football players had a thing at his house and I stopped by.”

His mom gave him a closed-lip smile and blew smoke out of the side of her mouth. “Oh yeah? Any cuties there?”

He turned on the water and began washing the dishes and setting them in the drying rack next to the sink. “Sure.”

His mom came and leaned against the counter next to him, crossing one arm over her stomach, cigarette in the other hand, as she leaned back to see him better. “Talk to any of them?”

“Yeah, I guess. It was a party.” He didn’t mention that the only reason he’d talked to anyone was because she’d accidentally discovered him hiding behind a plant.

His mom took another drag on her cigarette. “Okay. Just making sure.” She reached out and pinched his cheek, and he ducked away. She laughed and pushed off the counter. “If no one in particular has seen your potential yet, they will.”

He placed a plate on the dish rack and then filled up a pot to soak that looked like it had burned soup at the bottom.

Rex sighed as he used a dish towel to dry his hands.

His mom’s remark had zapped the energy he’d felt coursing through his body since his unexpected conversation with Cami.

His mom thought he had potential . Which meant, even she could see that if he was going to have any attributes worth noting, it was going to be at some point in the future.

Not now.

Now he was pretty much a loser.

He eyed the school-issued laptop on the kitchen table, where he’d been writing his college essay. It needed to be great. With that and his grades, he was hopeful he’d get into one of his top choices. His American Indian heritage was going to help pay for it.

His counselor had also suggested that extracurriculars could only help, and so Rex had practically begged the football coach for a spot on the team as a statistician.

He knew it wasn’t necessarily a position the team needed, but the coach had grown up in the same neighborhood as Rex, and it was likely a pity appointment.

Regardless of why he’d been given the role, it was one that would look great on his application as a math major.

And he was determined to show the coach the value of his work for the team.

It also meant he got to see Cami almost every single day after school.

Despite the areas where he was lacking, the future was fast approaching, and there was reason for hope.

His mom stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray on the table, and Rex spotted a couple of butts that he knew were his grandpop’s brand. “Grandpop was here?”

His mom made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat. “I borrowed a little money from him, and he came over to drop it off and lecture me while he was at it. I told him I didn’t want to hear his bullshit.”

Maybe you need to. “He means well,” Rex said, even though he knew that was being generous. His grandpop could be a mean old bastard when he wanted to be. He’d cut Rex down plenty too.

“He means to be a nagging old bitch. And anyway, he should talk. Have you seen his place? It looks like a jungle.”

“I think that’s on purpose.”

“There ya go.”

His grandfather worked part time at the hardware store to supplement his social security.

When the flower seeds expired, he’d take them and toss them on his property.

Apparently, however, the expiration date on a pack of flower seeds wasn’t always accurate because his yard had grown into a colorful mess that you’d have to use a scythe to walk through at this point.

Rex had once asked his grandpop why he liked flowers so much, and his grandpop had told him he didn’t, but the seeds were free, and it wasn’t right to let free things go to waste.

He wasn’t exactly wrong, but judging by the state of his property, he might not be exactly right either.

His mom turned and went to the cabinet, where she pulled out a fresh bottle of vodka and poured herself a glass. He felt a sinking inside. “I thought you were on the wagon.”

She made a dismissive sound with her lips.

“Life’s too short for wagons. I gotta live, you know?

” She winked at him. “Plus, I have a date tonight and I’m a little nervous.

He’s a financier , Rexy. Think about that.

I could marry a finance guy and move us to a fancy house in Palisades Park.

” She did a little shimmy with her shoulders, and he turned so she couldn’t see his eye roll.

As if. The mere thought of them moving to Palisades Park was a big fat joke.

“How are your applications coming?” she asked.

“I’ve barely started. They’re not due until after Christmas.”

“Never too early to get on the ball.”

“I’ve been on the ball my whole life, Mom.

” If I took your life management advice, I’d be a high school dropout working a dead-end job, waiting for a rich asshole to marry.

But he didn’t say that. It would hurt her feelings, even though it was true.

Because it was true. His thoughts made him feel guilty, and he offered a smile. “I’ve got it under control.”

“I know you do. You must have your father’s brains because I know I’ve still got mine.

” She laughed at her own joke and then gave him a kiss on his cheek and went bouncing out of the room, glass in hand.

Rex gave her back a tired shake of his head.

He might have his father’s brains, but he had no idea and neither did she.

She didn’t even know the guy’s name—only that he’d stopped in Virginia long enough to have a few drinks and knock up one of the locals before heading out of town.

Rex sat down at the table with a sigh, staring at his mom’s stubbed-out, half-smoked cigarette.

He wasn’t surprised she was drinking again.

Her “sobriety” never lasted long. And he could practically guarantee that things would quickly go afoul with this financier she spoke of.

They always did. But in the meantime, he’d have to deal with the guy, who was almost certainly greasy in any number of ways.

His mom had a type, and it included massive amounts of pomade and questionable ethics.

She was better than all the men who had come and inevitably gone. Too bad she was the only one who didn’t know it.

Rex yawned. He’d have to stay up, though, now that he knew his mom had a date. He’d stay awake until she got home to make sure she was okay. And then he’d help her to bed because she’d probably be three sheets to the wind.

Rex opened the laptop and began logging on to the school site where the draft of his essay was saved. His “potential” was out there, and he meant to move toward it.

He put his hands on the keyboard as his mom’s music started blasting from her room—Gloria Gaynor attesting melodically that she’d survive.

He turned his head for a moment and gazed out the window at the backyard, no more than a dirt lot scattered with weeds and surrounded by a short chain-link fence.

You’re Rex, right?

Sure, he would do his due diligence toward ensuring he had a bright future ahead of him. But couldn’t he also improve himself in the meantime? Why wait? He controlled his own destiny, didn’t he? That meant next year, but it also meant tomorrow.

He pictured Cami Cortlandt, the way her face lit up and her eyes sparkled when she laughed. And he wondered what she was doing right that second as he was sitting across town, staring at his barren yard and picturing her smile.