Anything You Want by Geoff Herbach

like a bunch of dead fish.
    Maggie sighed. She was super tired and slow. She sighed again.
    I said, “I’m sorry.”
    Then she got on the horn to her dad. She whispered. She nodded. She hung up. “Let’s go over to my place,” Maggie said.
    I really didn’t want to, but I agreed. I wanted to help Mr. Corrigan help Maggie (because I would be helping Maggie by doing so).
    Mary showed up about ten minutes later. With trepidation, I got in the fantastic Subaru’s backseat and rode across town to the Corrigans’.
    Hearty protein-rich meat lasagna with a big salad on the side, bread sticks, iced tea, and flourless brownies for desert—this was the proper grub for my pregnant lady. And I couldn’t provide it. I felt very lacking.
    Other than Mrs. Corrigan, no one spoke to me during dinner. Not the little girls, not the big girls, not Mr. Corrigan, not even Maggie herself. Only Mrs. Corrigan said anything. As I sat down at the table, she asked me if I knew anything about Balinese chicken curses, and then she glared at me for the rest of the meal.
    Curses?
    The other Corrigans chatted over and around me. They spoke of music lessons and dance lessons and hikes they might go on the following summer and Thanksgiving in Ohio. They were spending the whole following week with their grandma near Cleveland. I’d assumed Maggie wouldn’t go and would be with me, which wasn’t very bright on my count. I tried to say something, but my voice disappeared like no one could hear me, no one other than Mrs. Corrigan, who gave me that Balinese chicken curse stink eye.
    After dinner Maggie decided to stay in her own house because she needed protein for breakfast. She walked me out onto the porch. “Listen, Taco, I make some money at Dairy Queen, but we’ll need a ton more if we’re going to do this on our own. I have to eat so much right now. It’s crazy how many calories I can suck down.”
    â€œI know,” I said. “You’re like a she-tiger.”
    â€œGo get a really good job. Then we can get married and start our family, okay? I know that seems hard, but, like, it’s all you have to do, so maybe it’s not that big a deal,” she said.
    â€œYeah.” I repeated, “Not that big a challenge.”
    Getting a really good job was actually pretty complicated—and not just because I’d signed up for musical auditions. Mom wanted me to be a kid and to concentrate on school. She didn’t want me working. Even though Darius isn’t the best stand-in parent, he really grabbed hold of that no-work deal, and he followed through on his promises. Still, I had to do it. I had to get a job. I couldn’t be a kid anymore. A dad (like me) had to do what a dad had to do.
    Maggie said she had to go to bed because she was tired. I kissed her. She smiled. She went back in the house, and I put my face against the window and watched her climb the stairs to her room.
    On my walk across town, it was super dark and sad.
    When I finally made it home, I found Darius passed out on the front steps. I dragged him inside, and he promptly threw up on the living room carpet. I got him some water. He said, “Kayla won’t stop breaking up with me, and now she’s getting married. And you…you…you. I want to die, dude.”
    â€œHoly balls,” I said. “This isn’t good.”
    â€œIt’s not good!” Darius cried.
    Poor Darius needed my help. I got him ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet. He really needed me to be an adult too, right?
    That night I dreamed about a wooden chicken statue that came to life. And I knew we were in terrible trouble, dingus.

Chapter 11
    Maggie didn’t show up at school on Friday. I looked for her in the commons, where she often sat yacking with her fellow cheer girls. She wasn’t there. Later I eagerly awaited her arrival in English. No go. I began to panic. After English, instead of going