"What's going on?" Allison shoved in the front door and came to stand before Leonard, shoulders square, feet planted, impatient and demanding. "Where are you going?"
The look he gave her was part confused, part surprised. This had been the plan ever since they'd moved here. His father had always worked hard, and the move to Austin had been meant to improve their station in life. He'd gotten a job here with a prestigious architectural firm, with a significant pay raise from what he'd been earning in Atlanta. It had taken Lawrence just a couple of months to find a house that better met their needs in a somewhat nicer neighborhood. Now with the summer drawing to a close, they were making a quick work of moving again. Leonard was once again stuck with half of the task of moving their things, a box at a time, into a truck. He'd never made a point of telling her about it explicitly, but he also couldn't believe she'd never overheard any of the conversations about it. Even if most of the talk had taken place after she'd stopped spending so much time there.
"We're moving," he said, in a tone that covered up his discomfort with deadpan sarcasm. "That's what that truck is for."
She just shook her head, shooting him a dirty look. "People usually tell their friends about that kind of stuff," she grumbled.
"I didn't think he needed your permission," he said. He was glad to know she cared about it, and he did feel bad that she'd evidently missed that fact. Though as he saw it, if she hadn't worked it out, it was her own fault—they never had fully unpacked.
"That's not what I said, jackass." She turned around, leaving in some other direction from her house.
"Allison!" he called after her. "Hey, come back!" But she wasn't that easily dissuaded when she decided to beat a retreat. And he knew attempting to chase her would do him no good. She was in better shape than him, and she knew the neighborhood a lot better.
"Goddamn it," he muttered.
"What was that?" Lawrence asked, returning to the house from inside the moving truck.
Leonard shook his head with a touch of exasperation. "Allison's just being a drama queen about us moving."
"She has a right to be upset," Lawrence said, turning to look at that house across the street. "You just let her know where we'll be living and make sure she knows I'm okay with her dropping by whenever she likes, okay?"
"Yeah. Next time I see her." Leonard worried he wouldn't see her again, though. They'd be finishing removing their things from the house in the morning and then they'd be gone.
He was in the kitchen later that evening when he heard it—footfalls on the porch. It was dark out. Only one person would be on their porch this late at night. He set down his takeout meal and stepped out the door, into the muggy Texas night. He gazed at the house across the street. There was nobody outside, but the lights were on and he could hear the bass pulsing from the music that was playing inside.
He didn't look around for her. He just started talking.
"I don't want to move away. But there's nothing I can do about it. If you're going to be pissed at me over it, that's your problem."
A shadow moved before him; Allison was in front of him, and she gave him a shove. Before he'd realized what was happening he had sprawled backwards, falling flat on his ass. He tried to sit up, tried to speak, but she jabbed his shoulder with her foot, causing him to fall back again.
"I fucking hate you," she hissed. Then she fled, dissolving into the night like a ghost.
He scowled after her, hunching with his arms around his knees before springing to his feet. Well, what the fuck ever. It wasn't as though he'd promised her he'd stick around. And she hadn't given him the chance to tell her where they were moving. Well, that was on her head.
Leonard stepped off the bus and up to his front porch, slinging off his backpack. He was starting to get used to this new place, but he missed the old one. He could go inside, but he didn't feel like starting on his homework yet. Instead, he picked up his basketball and approached the newly installed hoop, bouncing his ball a couple of times and shooting a basket, which he missed. He gathered up his ball again and dribbled it across the driveway, causing it to ping sharply against the pavement. She would have gotten on his case about missing that basket. As annoying as being teased for something like that was, it seemed far too quiet without her.
He was sitting on the porch seat when his father arrived from work—late, as usual. He was still getting established at the firm and it wasn't unusual for Leonard to be left to his own devices until seven or eight in the evening. "Hey," Leonard said as his father approached.
"Hey, Len. Had any dinner yet?" The answer became clear as he went to open the door. It was still locked.
"Nah. I was just sitting out here." Leonard pushed off the rocker and stood. "Didn't feel like doing anything."
"Which means you haven't done your homework." Lawrence led the way into the house and put his briefcase in the front closet. "You need to make sure you're getting these things done. I'm not going to be here to remind you in the afternoons, you know. You need to take responsibility for it."
He shrugged. "I just wanted to have some fun first."
"Taking a break is okay, but not all afternoon." Lawrence pulled a couple of dinner trays out of the freezer to heat up. They didn't typically keep them on hand, but with the move, the two of them had gotten used to the convenience.
"It wasn't any fun anyway," Leonard grumbled. "Too many little kids around here."
"Maybe Allison can come by this weekend. Have you tried asking her?"
Leonard flopped onto the couch. "She won't talk to me." School had been in session for a month now and he hadn't been able to get a hold of her in that time. They lived close enough that it wouldn't be too strenuous of a walk if she felt like visiting. But she ignored his calls and whenever they passed in the hallways at school she pointedly ignored him there too. She'd even gone out of her way earlier that day to cross the hall when he started to approach. He'd scowled and continued on his way. Well, fine, he thought, if she wanted to be like that. From now on he'd ignore her right back.
Lawrence set the meals on the table. "You can always drop by over there."
"No way, not with the way she's acting." Leonard got up to join his dad. He slouched back in his chair and started mixing his corn into his mashed potatoes up with his fork. Mashed potatoes in frozen meals were always so disgusting.
"Fair enough. Just keep it in mind, though."
Leonard rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned there was nothing to keep in mind. It was all over.
Life went on. Autumn went by, and winter. That February, he tried out for the freshman basketball team, and got picked. Mostly because of his height, he thought. He'd never had the best aim.
They started having practices in the evenings. And he noticed something strange. Allison was always there. She would sit in the top row of the bleachers, doing her homework. Was she there to watch him? He tried waving at her the first couple of times he saw her, but she wouldn't look up. If he tried to approach her before going back to the showers, she would abruptly grab her things and leave. Those times that he saw her looking at him out of the corner of his eye, when he looked up to blatantly catch her looking at him, she flipped him off. Well, that wasn't much of a change—she was just making about as much sense as she ever did. He could go right back to ignoring her if she was going to play that game.
Their first practice game was a scrimmage against the JV team. He was just about as tall as the older guys, but all of them were faster, and stronger, and were better at shooting baskets. And he soon realized that a number of them were bullies. They thought pounding the freshman team into the ground was a great pastime. And the fucking coach seemed to think that was perfectly fine. Leonard lost count of all the fouls the coach should have called on them. Some way to boost team morale.
After the JV team had gotten the chance to grind the freshmen into the floorboards, the coach called the end of practice and went into the locker room. Leonard grabbed his water bottle and towel and was on his way there when a couple of the JV guys blocked his way.
"Look at this guy," one of them said to the other, sneering at him. "You body-checked me, you asshole," he added, putting his hands on Leonard's shoulders and pushing him.
"Hey, Coach was letting you guys get away with anything you wanted, jackass," he countered. "I was just trying to give you a dose of your own medicine."
"Well, why don't you give it another try, maybe I'll be cured," he said sarcastically, giving Leonard another push.
He gritted his teeth. "You asked for it." Leonard wound back his fist and started to let it fly furiously.
Instead the friend of the older boy grabbed his arm and spun him round, catching Leonard by surprise. He punched Leonard in the mouth and the boy who had threatened him in the first place grabbed his basketball shorts and yanked them down. Being socked in the jaw had thrown him for a loop and one hand went to cradle his chin while the other grabbed blindly for the waistband of his shorts. The toolbags who had instigated the whole thing were already running off, laughing like hyenas.
"Hey, you motherfucking cocksuckers!"
Leonard's eyes widened. It couldn't be.
He spun around. It was.
Allison.
Beating the shit out of the guys who had pantsed him.
Watching her fight was truly a thing of beauty. Leonard finished pulling up his shorts and stayed stock-still, amazed at what he was seeing. Allison was faster than the bullies, and she seemed to know how to use their own moves against them, how to predict when their fists were going to fly or when they were going to try to double-team her or grab her from behind. She had them hitting each other at one point until they realized what they were doing and tried to orient themselves. By that time it was too late—she'd come around behind one of them and grabbed his arm, pinning it up behind his back. They were both breathing heavily, exhausted, and his friend made no move to defend him.
"You leave him alone," she growled in his ear, "or you'll answer to me again. Got me?"
"Yeah," he muttered, defeated.
She released his arm. "Get out of my sight."
The two went scrambling for the locker room and he was left alone with her, dabbing at his lip with a finger. He could feel it bleeding.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Next time you better be able to defend yourself, asshole."
Leonard couldn't let that go unchallenged. Was she really assuming he had needed her to intervene? He hardened his face into a haughty expression. "I had it under control, bitch."
"Clearly," she scoffed, walking back to where she had dropped her school bag. "Don't bother to thank me. I won't be there next time."
He probably should have kept his mouth shut, right there. Or even thanked her. But instead he smirked. "What are you talking about, obviously you can't stay away."
She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, moron. It's just somewhere for me to be until I have to go home."
He gave her a cocky smile. "Uh-huh, sure. Tell you what… I'll walk you home tonight if you stick around. Bet you will."
She snorted. "Keep telling yourself that, Leonard."
"Just watch," he said. "I'll be back in ten minutes."
Even so, he rushed his way through the shower. Somehow he knew his prediction was wrong. He knew that when he came out of the locker room, she would be gone.
He never saw her at another one of his practices.