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Hector

Page 11

“Well, that’s good.” They moved off to the side of the crowds walking toward the auditorium. Walter seemed to be taking in the crowd or looking for someone as they stood there for a moment without saying anything. Hector remembered another thing he had always wondered about. Although he had an idea of what had happened, he still wanted to know. He may never get another chance to ask.

“So what happened to you, man? End of school year, you disappeared. Did you move?”

Walter’s eyes met his for a moment, but then he shook his head and continued to glance around. After a few awkward silent moments, he finally spoke. “I just decided to get my GED and get out. I hated high school.”

Knowing Walter was a top student the entire four years, Hector knew he didn’t mean he hated the academics part of high school like most kids. Hector knew exactly what Walter hated about school. He hated what Hector and his friends had put him through all those years. Even though he had the incredible urge to apologize once more, he decided he wouldn’t go there again, so he nodded and let it go.

“I was still able to get into East Side, and . . .,” he turned his head, and Hector turned to see what had distracted Walter: a passing car that parked nearby. Two girls got out of the car—a blonde and a redhead.

Walter’s shoulders went limp, and he backed up and leaned his elbow against a brand-new Mustang behind him that still had the dealership plates on. His demeanor went from awkwardly shy and quiet like he normally acted to this weird smug guy leaning on his own brand-new Mustang, almost as if he were trying to show off. As the girls got closer, he looked around with the goofiest expression on his face. “Yeah, I’ve been working out a few times a week.”

Hector turned to the girls, wondering if maybe he was talking to them. When he realized he wasn’t, because the girls weren’t even looking at him, he turned back to Walter. “Huh?”

When the girls got even closer, Walter very obviously sucked in his big gut and lifted a flabby arm. In a somewhat strained voice, he spoke again. “Yeah, I bench about thirty pounds on a bad day, about fifty the rest of the time.”

“Hey, Walter,” the redhead in a ponytail said, “new car?”

Seeing the ridiculous expression go even stupider, Hector finally figured out what Walter was doing. It was obvious he was about to lie about the car being his when the alarm on the car went off, startling Walter, whose elbow slipped off the car, and he nearly fell.

The blond girl squealed as the sudden blaring alarm startled her as well, and then both girls laughed and continued walking but not before the redhead glanced in Hector’s direction for just a split second. That’s when he realized who she was—Charlie—the same girl that was there the day Hector saved Walter’s ass, the one Walter had been so upset about not being able to make a connection with.

Never having been or even hung around with any girls but those with dark features, he was caught by her big deep blue eyes just as he had been that first day he saw her. But just like that day, it was only for a moment because she turned away too quickly. Hector turned to a now-back-to-awkward-and-frowning Walter. “What the hell was that about?”

Walter rolled his eyes, kicking a bottle cap on the floor. “Nothing you’d know about.” He kicked the bottle cap even harder. “Crap on a stick! Just like last time and all the other times, it never fails. I always end up making an ass out of myself instead of impressing her.”

Hector couldn’t help laughing as they both started toward the doors of the auditorium where the event was taking place. “What exactly was supposed to impress her: you sucking your gut in or the fact that you could bench fifty pounds?” He laughed even more now. “Because let me tell you fifty pounds ain’t shit. For a guy your size, you might want to up that to more than two hundred.”

Walter turned to him, incredulous. “Over two hundred? Are you crazy!”

“Nope,” Hector said, looking around again for Sam then back at Walter. “And it wouldn’t kill you to actually get your ass in a gym if you really want to impress this girl.” He reached over and patted Walter’s soft middle. “Getting in shape would probably help your little dilemma, you know. Girls appreciate the effort we put into getting our bodies nice and hard.” Hector lifted his arm and flexed with a smirk. “And they show their appreciation in real nice ways.”

Walter rolled his eyes, flinging his backpack over his shoulder as they reached the auditorium doors and walked in ahead of Hector. “Yeah, that’s easy for guys like you to say.”

With Sam nowhere in sight, Hector decided he may as well go in also. “Wait up. Are you here for the tournament too?”

Walter stopped, turning to look at Hector wide-eyed. “You’re in the tournament?” He shook his head, frowning when Hector nodded. “You play chess well enough to be invited to one of these things?”

Hector shrugged. “I’m here, right?”

Walter shrugged, imitating Hector. “Oh, yeah, of course, because it’s not enough that you look like this.” He lifted a finger up and down in front of Hector. “And that the girls in high school went crazy for the badass boxer from 5th Street, but you’re smart too?” Walter dropped his head back, looking almost disgusted.

Hector laughed. “You’ve always known I wasn’t stupid. We had a lot of the same AP classes together, remember?”

“Yeah, but to play chess at this level—” Walter stopped suddenly and raised a bushy eyebrow. “You do know this is a speed tournament, right? Thirty minute games and that there’s players here that flew in from all over the world—places like the Soviet Union and Romania—just to get on this team?”

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