Five Flavors of Dumb - Antony John [83]
I shook my head because I was certain Ed was innocent, and besides, he wasn’t responsible for my foul mood. “So how long are you grounded?” I asked as we set up the board for another game.
“I’m not grounded,” said Ed, his eyes flicking from the chess pieces to my hair.
“How come?”
“I wasn’t the one fighting, remember? I was the one on the bottom of the pile. I think even on our low-def eighteen-inch TV my parents could work that out.”
That was enough to make me break a smile. “You have enlightened parents.”
“I do,” he agreed. “Plus, I didn’t exactly play hooky and get my hair dyed pink.”
“Oh, that,” I said, like I’d already forgotten about it, instead of spending every other second checking myself out in reflective surfaces. “I take it you don’t approve.”
“No, no. I like it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Ed paused, furrowed his brow. That’s good, he signed jerkily.
I was impressed he’d learned any signs at all, and immediately returned Thank you.
You’re welcome.
I laughed, mostly because I was so touched, but I got the feeling Ed thought I was laughing at his attempts to sign. “You sign well,” I assured him. “And I’m glad you like my hair.”
“It’s good to see you emerge from your shell. You’ve been hiding too long.”
I felt myself blush, and I wasn’t sure how to reply, so I stared at the board and concentrated on that. Over the next minute—two moves each—I put Ed in checkmate. Fool’s mate, it’s called, because only a fool wouldn’t see it coming.
As I watched Ed struggling to come to terms with what I’d done, I couldn’t help laughing. I expected him to laugh too, but he just stared at the board like he suspected I’d cheated.
“How did you do that?” he asked.
“It’s just fool’s mate.”
“What’s fool’s mate?”
I narrowed my eyes, waited for him to say he was kidding. “It’s just, well . . . you know . . . fool’s mate. You know what that is, right?”
He looked hurt. “No, Piper. I don’t.”
“How can you play chess this long and not know that?”
“I guess I’m slow.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I added quickly. “It’s just . . . you spend so long playing, aren’t you interested in knowing about classic maneuvers, and defensive plays?”
Ed stared at his pieces for a moment and then toppled his king roughly.
“I’m sorry, Ed. I figured you weren’t paying attention.”
He stood up and grabbed his bag. “Yeah, well, at least I’m not alone, then.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“God, Piper. Dumb died on Seattle Today. Anyone could see that. And the only reason my parents didn’t ground me is because I promised them the band was over.”
“Why do they care?”
“Are you serious? They care because my grades are falling, and they never see me anymore. I have an audition at Peabody in the middle of February, but I don’t even have time to practice. I haven’t had a marimba lesson in a month.”
“So why did you say you want to keep the band going?” I shot back defensively.
“I didn’t, at first. But then you made me, and I didn’t want to let you down.”
“So everything is my fault?”
Ed shook his head. “Look, Piper, however bad the past two days have been for you, they’ve been a whole lot worse for me. A quarter of a million people have watched me getting my ass whipped on YouTube. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I waited by your car for an hour after the security guards threw me out of the studio. You were supposed to give me a ride back to school, but you never showed up. I caught a bus, but school was almost over, so they gave me my first ever detention.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“And until now you hadn’t thought about it either.”
He was right, of course, and I felt terrible. “I really am sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said, too decent to remain angry even when it was called for. He looked at the chessboard. “Look, I didn’t ask for any of this. All I wanted was ...”
“What?”
His mouth was open, but the words just weren’t there. “Nothing.” He didn’t look back on his way out the door.
It was the first time we’d argued. And something told me it had nothing to do with my hair.
CHAPTER 46