Perfectly Good White Boy by Carrie Mesrobian Page B

the next deer. “Eddie, will you get that tarp out? We’ll need to wrap that one before we tie it up.”
    Eddie squatted beside my grandpa and got to work.
    â€œSo, we gonna keep going or what?”
    My grandpa sat back on his heels, looked up at Brad, put on his fancy mirrored Oakleys, the expensive-but-cheesy kind the hockey players at school always wore. For some reason, they didn’t look douchey on my grandpa’s face, though.
    â€œI’d say we pack it in, son,” Grandpa Chuck said. “Gonna be more than enough work getting these out of here. Seany blew his wad early, but we still have to haul everything out. Might as well do it and then go get some breakfast.”
    Brad nodded. He wasn’t going to argue with my grandpa. He never did.
    â€œLook at it this way,” I said. Blurting. “We can drive back early. Krista’ll be thrilled. More time to do wedding stuff, right?”
    Eddie laughed, like he wasn’t expecting it. I stepped back, myself; Brad would have hit me if my grandpa hadn’t been there. But I didn’t care. I set down my shotgun and knelt beside Grandpa Chuck, handing him whatever he asked for, my back to Brad, looking at what I’d done and letting myself smile as much as I wanted.

Chapter Six
    After I overheard her talking to Tristan Reichmeier, Neecie Albertson didn’t talk to me at all in school. Which was weird, because while we’d never been chatty, before we at least acknowledged each other, since we worked together and sat by each other in dumb Global Studies. But now she wouldn’t even look at me. Even when I was looking at her. Like if I said “hey” to her, it would pop her secret with Tristan into a big splattery mess.
    I watched Tristan more now, though. Him at his locker with his stupid hair he couldn’t stop shaking off his forehead constantly, and that stupid black cap he always wore, in that total douche way. Him at lunch acting like a shithead with his hockey friends. Him surrounded by girls, the hot ones, plus this chick Hannah, who I think was supposed to be his current girlfriend, or just maybe the girl he’d be public about, or whatever. He’d put his arm around that Hannah chick and she’d always be laughing at whatever he said. You’d never in a thousand years put Tristan with Neecie. Never ever. She’d achieved ninja status in this, in my mind. Because you can’t do the simplest, littlest shit in high school without a dozen people noticing one second later. I wondered how long it’d been going on. How it’d ever started.
    One Friday during lunch there was a college-career fair. They’d had them last year, too, but I’d skipped them all. Was planning on skipping this one, too, until Neecie came up to me while I was standing outside the gym, debating whether to go in. You could get free pizza if you went and got your thing stamped by a certain number of booths, and today the caf was serving nasty turkey tacos.
    â€œWhat’s up, Sean?” Neecie said. All normal. Wearing her usual T-shirt and hoodie and jeans, her hair the long straight sheet of yellow everywhere. Drinking her giant can of iced tea—peach-flavored today—and holding a piece of pizza and a bunch of handouts and brochures.
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œYou going in?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI only went for the pizza,” she said, laughing.
    â€œI’m shocked you don’t care more about your future.”
    â€œI already applied to the places I wanted to go. I don’t need any more information. Here,” she added, handing me the pile of handouts. “Go expand your horizons. I don’t need any of this shit. You just have to talk to six places. It’s no big deal. Go to the Marines’ guy. He’s giving out water bottles and nobody’s at his table. He’s all lonely, and there’s no line. Plus he’s really kind of cute.”
    I