Chapter 23

Noah looked up at me, frowned. 16: SOS

We crossed the street to the park in front of city hall, our footsteps taking us quite naturally to the park’s crown jewel, a statue of Elvis in his shiny, metallic glory. Elvis was perched on a large pedestal, microphone in hand, frozen in the act of telling Tupelo, Mississippi, not to be cruel. Kids played on swings, and a young black couple sat on the grass having a late picnic.

You don’t like her, do you? Noah signed as we stood before the King like supplicants before a throne.

I made a face.

She doesn’t like me, he added.

Yes, she does, I signed.

She doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t see me.

Give her some time.

She’s pretty

A pretty pain in the ass, I thought.

But she doesn’t like me, he added. I can tell.

That’s not true.

It is