"So I'm a loser jerk then for sticking with the job they gave me? I'm the best classroom teacher in the department, present company included. Maybe that's why I'm still there. And Whitestone only hates me 'cause I won't pimp for his stupid Friends of Bloodroot group."

"I won't, either," Kelsey said, "but no one ever calls the office looking for me." She edged her chair closer to mine. "What happened to your drive, your ambition? Where'd you lose it?"

"I never had any," I said. "If I had any ambition, I'd be on Wall Street grading stocks instead of essays written by kids who think Canada's a state." I wanted her to laugh, but she didn't. "And who knows? Richmond might be a better place to be soon. I'll get my shit together and everyone will forget the past. They're doing work all over the campus. We got that new science building.

There's the plans to go more residential with new dorms, attract more students from off the island."

"I haven't heard anything about the history department," Kelsey said.

"Not yet," I said. "But we're probably on the list. You know Whitestone'll make sure of that.

That's probably why he started that Bloodroot museum bullshit to begin with, to make sure he gets his cut of the state money coming in." I shook the ice in my plastic cup. "Speaking of getting one's due, you owe us a pitcher."

"Don't change the subject," Kelsey said. "It's bullshit that you never had any ambition. I know different. What happened?"

"That's a good question." I slouched in my chair. She really wanted an answer. This isn't Whitestone breaking your balls, I thought. This is someone you like trying to care about your life.

"Right around when I had five years in," I said, "about three years ago, I guess I started cruising.

I stopped paying attention. It got so easy to keep doing the same things over and over. And then the road tipped downhill and I picked up speed." I looked at her. "I never knew inertia could have momentum. Probably why I'm not a physicist." I leaned forward. "You know, I never realized it, but when Danny disappeared for good, that's about when things started going south for me. Weird."

Kelsey blinked at me, as if trying to bring my face into better focus. I couldn't tell if she was trying to see me, or picturing her life if she didn't go to Chicago. But she didn't look away and I was thankful for that. Did she see a difference in me, after only a few days with Danny back in my life? Did I feel different? Once the initial rush of the adventure and the money had worn off, I'd felt nothing but bad for the two days after the graveyard, but sitting at the Red Spot with Kelsey, I had to admit that I felt pretty good, optimistic.

Looking at her pretty face, I wished she could tell me my future. Did she see herself in it? Why would she? Kelsey had already said she was all but gone. That letter, her ticket off the island, was in her pocket as we sat there making up for lost time with cigarettes and bad booze. And what about Danny? He and I had no chance of staying together if I abandoned him to his night work, if I walked away from the important thing, our reunion, because of the crazy shit I'd seen and done Friday night. I'd vowed a thousand times that I'd do anything to get my brother back. I had to be willing to find out what "anything" really meant.

If I was going to hang on to Kelsey and Danny, I couldn't treat them like I did my job. I had to stay focused. Be creative. I had to shake off my lame, lazy existence and take some risks. Maybe this past weekend, without me even realizing it, the process had already started.

"It's never too late," Kelsey said, standing, "to start paying attention again. Objects right in front of you may be closer than they appear." She slung her purse over her shoulder. "Okay, you're off the hook. We're supposed to be celebrating. We'll have fun when I get back."

I dug into my pocket for some cash.

She waved me off. "I got this."

I held out a twenty. "Let me get the shots. Forget the well shit, get us some decent bourbon, even if it does come in plastic shot glasses. I'm too old for the rotgut." I pulled out another twenty.

"Tip big and ask him to change the music."

She took one twenty from me, eyebrows raised. I jammed the other back in my pocket.

"Dead Kennedys?" she asked.

"Or Black Flag. Or Social D. At least some Kiss or some Clash."

I turned in my seat to watch Kelsey walk away. Over her shoulder, she glanced back and caught me looking at her. She stopped walking. I didn't look away. I ran my eyes over her head-to-toe as she watched. I'd never let her see me do that before. The doorway was dim, but I saw her grin before she entered the bar.

She carried a first-rate body under those secondhand clothes. I'd known this for three years, though I'd done fuck-all about it. Kelsey knew I knew it. She was one of the least vain people I'd ever met, but she knew what she had. I got the feeling she was gonna give me a shot at really making up for lost time. That would be just like me, hooking up with a girl on her way out the door.

Kelsey set the shots and the pitcher down on the table. "All he's got for music is satellite radio. I talked him into some early alternative station."

The steady kick drum thump and ragged, shining guitar riff of the Cult's "Rain" tumbled from the speakers over the empty courtyard. "This'll do just fine," I said.

We downed our shots. She poured each of us a beer while we recovered from the burn. I lit her cigarette, her cheeks flushed in the match light.

Kelsey leaned back, stretching her legs under the table. She sat so close to me now that her thigh rested against mine. I could feel the warmth of it through my jeans.

"I thought this place was the coolest," she said. "I had a different color vinyl skirt for every day of the week."

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that."

"Oh please," Kelsey said. "And where did you hang out?"

"Here," I said, laughing. "A lot. Like everyone else our age who couldn't dance."

"I knew it. God, I had a whole gang of virgin sluts from Sacred Heart I ran with back then,"

Kelsey said. "We partied here every weekend. We'd prance around like strippers and then giggle like idiots the moment a boy tried to talk to any of us. I heard some real sex, drugs, and rock 'n'

roll shit went on but I never even kissed anyone here. I was such a wuss back then."

"Most of us were like that," I said. "There was always a lot more posing than there was danger.

We all wanted to be in the glow, as long as someone else was doing the real dirty work."

Someone else, I thought. Someone like Danny. "What the fuck, right? It was fun."

It was then I felt her hand on my cheek. She turned my face to hers and kissed me.

"There," she said, her mouth just far enough from mine for us to speak. "I finally got my kiss at the Red Spot."

I closed the distance and we kissed again.

"You were probably cute as shit back in the day," Kelsey said, pressing her forehead against mine. "I wish I'd seen that, you and your badass rocker crew."

"You probably did," I said. "Though it was usually just me and my brother."

"You guys really did everything together, didn't you?" Kelsey said.

"Yeah, back then I couldn't imagine life without him. Never even thought about it." I leaned back in my chair. "Before the drugs came along." And then it hit me, like a revelation, that Danny wasn't gone anymore.

"You really miss him," Kelsey said.

"I did. I used to." I leaned forward, put my hands on her knees. "But listen to this. He's back." I couldn't believe how good it felt to say that. Joy, excitement, relief, everything missing from telling my father, they all welled up inside me like a ten-foot wave. It was all so pure. Even the darkness of the weekend couldn't stain it. I felt, for a few moments anyway, that the weekend was just another bad memory that Danny and I would soon forget. The last bad adventure.

Kelsey covered my hands with hers. "Kevin, that's wonderful. Where's he been?"

"That's a long story," I said. I didn't care to tell it. It didn't matter. "But he seems a lot better off than the last time I saw him."

"He's clean?"

"Looks like it," I said. "I mean, you never know for sure or for how long, but he seems real good so far."

"That must've been so great, hanging out with him again. I'm so happy for you. What did you guys do?"

"Dinner, drinks," I said. "Nothing major."

"I'll bet it was special anyway."

"You could say that," I said with a smile.

"And I thought I had news worth celebrating," Kelsey said. She stood and chugged her beer.

Looking down at me, she straddled my thighs. My heart started pounding. She settled down into my lap, wiggling her hips. My hands on the small of her back, breathing in her skin, I moved my mouth over her throat. Searching until I felt her clean, strong pulse on my tongue, pumping away through her veins.

"Come home with me," she said, her hands in my hair.

"What? You don't wanna do it in the bathroom?" I said into her shoulder. "Like in the good ol'

days?"

"Forget this teenage shit," she said, her hips rocking. "You really wanna dry hump out here all night when you could have the real thing? You spend the night with me, you might even get to work on time tomorrow."

"Forget work," I said, grabbing her braid, winding it around my forearm. "Forget tomorrow."

TEN.

MONDAY EVENING, THE CAB DROPPED ME IN THE MIDDLE OF MY street. Al's black Charger was docked in front of my building, taking up three parking spaces. Al sat on the stoop, staring off into some random slice of sky from behind a pair of dark aviator glasses. A decent impression of a man deep in thought. I wasn't fooled. And no way was this a social call.

He cracked his knuckles and rolled a toothpick over his teeth.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, paid the driver, and headed Al's way, holding my head down, pretending I hadn't noticed him. He stood as I approached, jamming his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. I feigned surprise as I hopped the curb.

"What's up, Al?"

"Cute," Al said. "But not my type."

"The cabdriver?"

Al unleashed a loud, fake laugh. "You're almost as quick as your brother. Between the two of you, I'm gonna get a complex." He removed the toothpick, touched it to the tip of my nose, and put it back in his mouth. "Not the cabdriver, smart guy. The professor lady you went out with last night. What's her name? Kelsey? The one with the apartment on Van Buren. I'm talking about her."

"For fuck's sake." I dropped my bag and turned away. "You've been following me? What the hell for? Where's Danny? Does he even know you're here?"

"Don't get your shit crossed up," Al said, "and go thinking I take orders from Danny. Your brother's busy. Don't worry about him."

"Kelsey's got nothing to do with the weekend. And she doesn't know a thing about it, if that's what you're here for. Leave her alone."

"Relax, loverboy," Al said. "Nobody's going after your girl." He set his hand on my shoulder.

"Long as she stays ignorant, bang her till your dick falls off for all I care. You did hit it, right?

Tell me you at least sealed the deal."

"That's none of your business."

"You're right," Al said. "I really don't give a fuck. I'm just trying to be friendly here." He sat back down on the stoop, patting the concrete. "C'mere, sit down, have a smoke with me."

"No thanks."

"Suit yourself," Al said, lighting up. He eased back on his elbows, blocking my path up the stairs. "How long you worked at that college?"

"Like it's any of your business," I said. "I'm going up to my apartment. Move out of the way."

"If you invited me upstairs, you could relax a bit, change clothes, have a beer."

"No way," I said. "You shouldn't get your shit crossed up, either. Just because you and me had a few beers in high school doesn't mean I'm gonna take any bullshit from you." I put my foot on the bottom step. "Quit following me and get off my stoop. I'm tired. I had a long day at work."

"When you get irritated," Al said, "I can see the family resemblance. Your brother's got a temper, too." Al looked down at my foot, grinning. He didn't move. "I could give a fuck about high school. You and I are going to have a conversation whether you like it or not." He kicked my foot off the step. "I got all day."

I crossed my arms, turned in a circle on the sidewalk. Kelsey had left me feeling better than I had in forever but Al's visit had killed that buzz. I felt almost as hollowed out as I had on Saturday. I hated him for it.

"Quit dancing around like a fag," Al said, "and sit."

I did, on the bottom step, wondering if Al's main function in this world was as an impediment, a block of granite that other people broke against. He reminded me of a bully I knew from grammar school. Caving in would only encourage him. I wanted nothing to do with Al, but what else was I going to do? Kick him in the balls and run away? "Just tell me what you want."

"That's more like it," Al said. "So it's been in the papers that your college wants to build new dorms. Over on the old Bloodroot property. Seems everything's ready to go, except for one problem. Your boss. You catch the way I'm drifting with this?"

"I don't have anything to do with the dorms or the museum. I'm low-level faculty. A name on a schedule and a paycheck." I bummed a smoke from him. "There's nothing I can tell you or Santoro or anyone else that they can't find out for themselves."

"I thought maybe you had some inside scoop," Al said. "That Friends of Bloodroot group did start in your department. Tell me about them. That Whitestone guy, your boss, tell me about him."

"I don't know anything about him," I said. "The group's a bunch of tenured old farts and some kiss-ass instructors. A few biddies who like getting their name in the Advance throw lunches and write checks for him."

Al raised his eyebrows. "Is Kelsey in the group?"

"No," I said. "She isn't. And I still don't see what this has to do with you following me around."

"That's a different thing. Bavasi wanted me to keep an eye on you," Al said. "Just for a coupla days. Because of this weekend. Things like that, they can make people squirrelly."

"I'm fine with this weekend. I'm not telling another living soul about it. You think I want people knowing what I did? I'd just as soon forget it." I scratched my fingernail at the faded gang sign spray-painted on the concrete. "Not a word to Bavasi about Kelsey, understand?"

"Or what, tough guy?" Al said. "He's gonna ask and I'm gonna tell."

"It's none of his business."