Because the difference in their ages was so small, they were in the same grade in school. Because of their last names, they always ended up in the same classes and, in high school, their lockers weren’t far apart. When Ronnie began to play baseball, Court cried until his mother signed him up, too. They were inseparable. Even at the tender age of eight, Court knew they always would be.
Ronnie was the first person Court kissed. The first realperson—his parents didn’t count. It was the summer before sixth grade, and most of their days were spent down by the small creek that ran under the interstate overpass behind their apartment building. Technically the creek was off-limits, but what no one else knew couldn’t possibly get the boys into trouble, could it?