Little Brother

at night, meeting people and parting ways. Hipsters, sad-faced hobos, con-men, muggers, scumbags and angels. There's not really a plot — Kerouac supposedly wrote it in three weeks on a long roll of paper, stoned out of his mind — only a bunch of amazing things, one thing happening after another. He makes friends with self-destructing people like Dean Moriarty, who get him involved in weird schemes that never really work out, but still it works out, if you know what I mean.
    There was a rhythm to the words, it was luscious, I could hear it being read aloud in my head. It made me want to lie down in the bed of a pickup truck and wake up in a dusty little town somewhere in the central valley on the way to LA, one of those places with a gas station and a diner, and just walk out into the fields and meet people and see stuff and do stuff.
    It was a long bus ride and I must have dozed off a little — staying up late IMing with Ange was hard on my sleep-schedule, since Mom still expected me down for breakfast. I woke up and changed buses and before long, I was at Ange's school.
    She came bounding out of the gates in her uniform — I'd never seen her in it before, it was kind of cute in a weird way, and reminded me of Van in her uniform. She gave me a long hug and a hard kiss on the cheek.
    "Hello you!" she said.
    "Hiya!"
    "Whatcha reading?"
    I'd been waiting for this. I'd marked the passage with a finger. "Listen: 'They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"'"
    She took the book and read the passage again for herself. "Wow, dingledodies! I love it! Is it all like this?"
    I told her about the parts I'd read, walking slowly down the sidewalk back toward the bus-stop. Once we turned the corner, she put her arm around my waist and I slung mine around her shoulder. Walking down the street with a girl — my girlfriend? Sure, why not? — talking about this cool book. It was heaven. Made me forget my troubles for a little while.
    "Marcus?"
    I turned around. It was Van. In my subconscious I'd expected this. I knew because my conscious mind wasn't remotely surprised. It wasn't a big school, and they all got out at the same time. I hadn't spoken to Van in weeks, and those weeks felt like months. We used to talk every day.
    "Hey, Van," I said. I suppressed the urge to take my arm off of Ange's shoulders. Van seemed surprised, but not angry, more ashen, shaken. She looked closely at the two of us.
    "Angela?"
    "Hey, Vanessa," Ange said.
    "What are you doing here?"
    "I came out to get Ange," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. I was suddenly embarrassed to be seen with another girl.
    "Oh," Van said. "Well, it was nice to see you."
    "Nice to see you too, Vanessa," Ange said, swinging me around, marching me back toward the bus-stop.
    "You know her?" Ange said.
    "Yeah, since forever."
    "Was she your girlfriend?"
    "What? No! No way! We were just friends."
    "You were friends?"
    I felt like Van was walking right behind us, listening in, though at the pace we were walking, she would have to be jogging to keep up. I resisted the temptation to look over my shoulder for as long as possible, then I did. There were lots of girls from the school behind us, but no Van.
    "She was with me and Jose-Luis and Darryl when we were arrested. We used to ARG together. The four of us, we were kind of best friends."
    "And what happened?"
    I dropped my voice. "She didn't like the Xnet," I said. "She thought we would get into trouble. That I'd get other people into trouble."
    "And that's why you stopped being friends?"
    "We just drifted apart."
    We walked a few steps. "You weren't, you know, boyfriend/girlfriend friends?"
    "No!" I said. My face was hot. I felt like I sounded like I was lying, even though I was telling the truth.
    Ange jerked us to a halt and studied my face.
    "Were you?"
    "No! Seriously! Just friends. Darryl and her — well, not quite, but Darryl was so into her. There was no way —"
    "But if Darryl hadn't been into her, you would have, huh?"
    "No, Ange, no. Please, just believe me