Empire Falls

enough, but last spring he swore to her he wouldn’t, though their breaking up might’ve absolved him of this promise.
    He’s still good-looking, though, she has to admit, good-looking enough to make her wonder, as she did all last year, what he wants with her. He could have a really cool girlfriend if he wanted one. Candace isn’t the only one who considers him a major hunk.
    “I didn’t want a soda,” he explains. “What I wanted …”
    The quarter continues to dance over his knuckles.
    “… was a free soda.”
    And with this the quarter, which had come to rest between his thumb and forefinger, shoots across the table and hits John Voss in the forehead, hard, just above the left eyebrow. The boy barely flinches, though it had to hurt. When Zack reaches for a second quarter, Tick sweeps both remaining coins into a side pocket of her backpack, where she hears them click against the Exacto knife she keeps meaning to slip back into the supply cupboard in art class the next chance she gets.
    “So,” Zack says, “who’s this? Your new boyfriend?”
    “No,” Tick says, maybe just a little too quickly, since Zack is quick to smirk. “We were just talking. And you’re not supposed to be in here.”
    Zack shrugs and goes back to staring at John Voss. A red spot has appeared where the quarter struck the boy’s forehead, and Zack may be wondering, as Tick is, how he can keep from rubbing it.
    “The door wasn’t locked,” Zack says. “And I have a hall pass.” He shows her the pass, signed by Mrs. Roderigue, which in itself is a minor mystery, since he doesn’t have a class with her. But then, Zack always has whatever is required. It’s one of the more amazing things about him, actually, and Tick is surprised to have forgotten this over the summer. Last year, whenever they went to a movie, he’d have two tickets without having to go to the box office. If one of his friends showed up unexpectedly, he’d produce a third ticket. Or a fourth. Always secretive about how such things came to him, he’d just smile under direct questioning. He apparently liked to foster the impression that people who were loyal to him would be taken care of.
    Sliding the pass back into his pocket, he turns to the boy. “Why don’t you go away?” he suggests.
    John Voss treats this as one of the best ideas he’s heard in ages, practically jumping to his feet and gathering his things.
    “My old girlfriend is going to explain why she doesn’t like me anymore.”
    The strangest part of this statement is that it appears heartfelt. Zack’s point, if she understands him correctly, is that big, stupid, cruel people have feelings too, and she’s hurt his.
    Tick watches the boy walk to the far corner of the cafeteria and sit down with his back to them. She hadn’t expected much in chivalry from this kid, but she’s still surprised by such unapologetic cowardice. He’s apparently come to accept humiliation as his lot in life, perhaps even made it his friend.
    “Billy Wolff sprained his ankle in practice,” Zack says. “That means I’m starting outside linebacker this weekend. You going to the game?”
    “I don’t know,” Tick says. The stench of the boy’s food has departed with him, mostly, though the plastic container is still there on the table, its lid sealed shut. The fishy smell has been overpowered by Zack’s cologne, and Tick notices that during the summer he, too, has taken to shaving daily. Either his stubble is less resistant, or else he’s mastered the technique that has eluded John Voss. “The gang’s going to hang out afterward,” he says. “You want to come?”
    Tick wishes she didn’t, but the truth is she does. Only three weeks into the fall semester and she’s already tired of being friendless. She misses her friends, if that’s what they really are, or at least being part of something. Maybe someday she’ll be self-contained like Picasso, but not yet. After meeting Donny on Martha’s Vineyard she vowed she’d never fall back in with Zack Minty, because it wasn’t worth it. And she’s no fool. She knows it won’t be long before he’ll start belittling her again, undermining her slender confidence, making fun of the things she cares about, saying Picasso was a fag. Worse, he’ll be trying to make her jealous by flirting with prettier girls. Tick understands herself well enough to know she’s prone to jealousy. She doesn’t like this about herself and would change it if she