something. Because you don’t.”
“I know I don’t, son. But you don’t owe it to yourself to be so proud. Not around me. So come on inside. I haven’t had someone to eat dinner with me in a long while now.” He had already started to walk on in, but he stops when he senses that I’m not following him. He offers me a small smile and turns back around. “Carter,” he says when he reaches me, “I want you to grow up successfully. You can’t do that if you’re not eating, son. Do me a favor and share a meal with an old, lonely man. Will you do that for me, Carter?”
He turned it around to make it look like I’m doing him a favor. Once again, he doesn’t know how good of a man he is. But I do. And I’m going to be like him.
“Thank you, Mr. Mason,” I say as I follow him into the simple dining room. I sit down in one of the straight-backed chairs.
A woman comes out and pours us some soup before she bustles back into the kitchen. My guess is that he helps her out too, because she’s very kind to both of us. She’s nothing like the servants and help in the movies. She’s not fake-polite. No, it’s genuine. And Jeb’s story about her being a single mom, further pushes the point at how great he is. He was right when he told me the town wouldn’t run if he left. The people that needed the most help would go under if he left them.
When we finished the meal, which consisted of some amazing barbeque ribs and potato salad, along with sweet bread, I headed back to my new home. Ryan was picking me up later. His dad was letting him borrow the car for the night. And I had to get back home to look through my new, secondhand clothes. Dane had been right about the place, which was fondly named after Secondhand Serenade, a great band that the owner and I both love. The place did have some great brands, and the guy even looked through new stuff that he had. He was nice and gave me a discount for being new to town and all. He was really just helping me out, but he insisted that he did it for every new person.
And as I pull my new, Abercrombie polo over my head, I think about what Lane told me about Atlanta. She said the people were bad. When I compare them to this place, with all their helping and kindness, she’s right. But, like I told her, there are some nice people in Atlanta. I just didn’t have the pleasure of meeting any of them. And I’m glad I stopped here in Mason. This is my new home. And I don’t really plan on leaving anytime soon.
When I hear Ryan honking downstairs, I rush out the door and into the passenger seat of his dad’s Chevy truck.
“You ready?” he asks me. He’s containing it, but I can tell he’s excited. “We’re gonna go pick up Lane and Brooke, so get ready to get in the back seat, man. They don’t live too far from your apartment.”
I nod and turn to look at Ryan in the light of the streetlamps. He’s got on a white polo and some dark jeans. He’s wearing boat shoes, and his faux hawk is a little bit tamer than it is at school. “So, these parties. Do they get crazy and stuff?” I ask.
Ryan laughs. “I’m sure they don’t get as crazy as those Atlanta parties, but we like drinking and playing games. No live bands or DJs. We just have iPods and expensive speakers. What do you think?”
“Sounds good to me, man. That sounds more like my style, anyway. Never much liked the club atmosphere and stuff. You know?”
“Yeah,” Ryan agrees. “So, what did you do today?”
What did I do today? I mean, in this fake life. “Uh, I just went home and hung out with my parents. Didn’t really do too much. Just grabbed some clothes so I can hang out in the apartment more, since my dad’s going overseas for a while. He won’t be back for a couple months, so I probably won’t go home.”
“Your mom doesn’t care about being alone?” Ryan asks. “My mom would freak out without my dad.”
“She’s used to it. Plus, she works a lot.”
“I
“I know I don’t, son. But you don’t owe it to yourself to be so proud. Not around me. So come on inside. I haven’t had someone to eat dinner with me in a long while now.” He had already started to walk on in, but he stops when he senses that I’m not following him. He offers me a small smile and turns back around. “Carter,” he says when he reaches me, “I want you to grow up successfully. You can’t do that if you’re not eating, son. Do me a favor and share a meal with an old, lonely man. Will you do that for me, Carter?”
He turned it around to make it look like I’m doing him a favor. Once again, he doesn’t know how good of a man he is. But I do. And I’m going to be like him.
“Thank you, Mr. Mason,” I say as I follow him into the simple dining room. I sit down in one of the straight-backed chairs.
A woman comes out and pours us some soup before she bustles back into the kitchen. My guess is that he helps her out too, because she’s very kind to both of us. She’s nothing like the servants and help in the movies. She’s not fake-polite. No, it’s genuine. And Jeb’s story about her being a single mom, further pushes the point at how great he is. He was right when he told me the town wouldn’t run if he left. The people that needed the most help would go under if he left them.
When we finished the meal, which consisted of some amazing barbeque ribs and potato salad, along with sweet bread, I headed back to my new home. Ryan was picking me up later. His dad was letting him borrow the car for the night. And I had to get back home to look through my new, secondhand clothes. Dane had been right about the place, which was fondly named after Secondhand Serenade, a great band that the owner and I both love. The place did have some great brands, and the guy even looked through new stuff that he had. He was nice and gave me a discount for being new to town and all. He was really just helping me out, but he insisted that he did it for every new person.
And as I pull my new, Abercrombie polo over my head, I think about what Lane told me about Atlanta. She said the people were bad. When I compare them to this place, with all their helping and kindness, she’s right. But, like I told her, there are some nice people in Atlanta. I just didn’t have the pleasure of meeting any of them. And I’m glad I stopped here in Mason. This is my new home. And I don’t really plan on leaving anytime soon.
When I hear Ryan honking downstairs, I rush out the door and into the passenger seat of his dad’s Chevy truck.
“You ready?” he asks me. He’s containing it, but I can tell he’s excited. “We’re gonna go pick up Lane and Brooke, so get ready to get in the back seat, man. They don’t live too far from your apartment.”
I nod and turn to look at Ryan in the light of the streetlamps. He’s got on a white polo and some dark jeans. He’s wearing boat shoes, and his faux hawk is a little bit tamer than it is at school. “So, these parties. Do they get crazy and stuff?” I ask.
Ryan laughs. “I’m sure they don’t get as crazy as those Atlanta parties, but we like drinking and playing games. No live bands or DJs. We just have iPods and expensive speakers. What do you think?”
“Sounds good to me, man. That sounds more like my style, anyway. Never much liked the club atmosphere and stuff. You know?”
“Yeah,” Ryan agrees. “So, what did you do today?”
What did I do today? I mean, in this fake life. “Uh, I just went home and hung out with my parents. Didn’t really do too much. Just grabbed some clothes so I can hang out in the apartment more, since my dad’s going overseas for a while. He won’t be back for a couple months, so I probably won’t go home.”
“Your mom doesn’t care about being alone?” Ryan asks. “My mom would freak out without my dad.”
“She’s used to it. Plus, she works a lot.”
“I
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