Paranoid Park by Blake Nelson Page B

It was the first time I actually smiled in days.
    Then at lunch, I felt hungry again, for the first time since Saturday night. I ate all my food, had seconds, then ate all of Parker’s and James’s food. I told them I’d had a stomach virus and hadn’t been able to eat. They said I looked a little weird on Monday.
    Later, Jennifer came by my locker, and I was actually happy to see her. She was being flirty and cute and just for the hell of it I gave her a big kiss, right there in the hall-which got her all giggling and hopping around like she does.
    I felt like everything was right with the world again. Or I did until I took my world literature test. I had totally forgotten about it. I mean, I wasn’t so great in English anyway. It was this book called Notes from the Underground, and I hadn’t even bought the book. So I got burned on that. But I told Mrs. Hall I was sick all weekend, and she said I could take it again next week if I wanted. I figured I could get the SparkNotes and do a makeup.
    Then after school, Jared and some of those guys were playing S-K-A-T-E on the steps by the parking lot. I sat on the steps and watched.
    “Bro, where’s your board?” Jared said, when he saw me.
    “Home.”
    “You don’t bring it to school anymore?”
    “I don’t have room in my locker,” I said.
    “What are you talking about?” he said, sneering like this was the stupidest thing he had ever heard.
    “I dunno, I just... didn’t feel like bringing it.”
    Right then, Christian Barlow ollied the lower steps. Everyone stopped to watch him ride it into the parking lot.
    Jared immediately spun his board and took off, to see if he could match it. He couldn’t; he bailed and got a “K.”
    I watched the other guys try to ollie the lower steps. Paul Auster fell on his ass and smashed his hand. He was in serious pain, rolling around, holding his wrist between his legs.
    Jared tried it again, for the hell of it, and bailed again and ran into the parking lot.
    “This is lame,” he said, retrieving his board. “We should go to Paranoid.”
    “Paranoid Park?” said Christian Barlow.
    “Sure,” said Jared.
    “That place is skanky,” said Christian.
    “Bro! Paranoid kicks ass!”
    “Yeah, if you, like, just got out of jail,” said someone else. “Some guy got stabbed there.”
    “It’s rad, though,” said Jared. He looked at me to confirm this.
    I shrugged. “I only went there once.”
    “Yeah, but you liked it,” said Jared. “We should all go. This weekend. We could go there right now.”
    Christian didn’t want to. Paul had no opinion. I couldn’t. “I gotta hang out with Jennifer,” I said.
    “Yeah?” said Jared. “You got anything off her yet?”
    “Not really,” I said.
    He laughed. “What? Is she giving you the good-girl treatment?”
    “Nah, she’s just... you know.”
    “I’d do her,” said Paul Auster. “With that body? And you know she wants it.”
    “All those girls,” said Christian. “Petra practically attacked Mike Paley.”
    “It hasn’t really developed that far,” I said, trying to defend myself.
    But nobody cared anyway; they were all waiting for Christian to do his next trick.

    The next couple days were more of the same. At school, I’d have an hour or two when I would feel like myself. I’d play hoops or hang out or whatever. Then at some unexpected moment—at my locker, or sitting in class—I’d remember the security guard. I’d see him in front of me, mangled on the tracks. Sometimes I could get away and go sit in a stall in the bathroom for a few minutes. But other times I’d be stuck with it.
    Home was the same. I’d kill time, try to stay occupied. I would play video games for a couple hours, watch some TV, even do a little homework. Then it was up to bed. That was the hardest part. At least I was sleeping better now. I started taking these allergy pills my mom got me. If you took a couple, they kinda knocked you out.
    Then on Thursday morning, on my way