Falter Kingdom Read Online Free PDF Page A

going to happen next.
    Brad sits across from me, steals one of my chicken fingers, and starts people-watching. That’s how it always starts.
    Brad leans in, whispering, “Bro, you see Jess today? Jesus.”
    Testosterone-fueled annoyance, that’s Brad’s yearbook bio. He’ll be remembered as the dude with so much testosterone he drowned in it, meaning we all ganged up on him and drowned him for being such an asshole.
    I don’t know why I hang around this guy.
    But yeah, I do. I know. I’ve talked about this already.
    â€œYo,” Brad says.
    â€œYeah, what is it?” I’m acting like these chicken fingers are awesome, like they taste like more than salt.
    â€œYou hit up JJ yet?”
    Shit. That’s right. I can’t leave the guy hanging. He’s my source for booze, blunts, and anything else I want. For cheap.
    â€œNot yet, after I finish eating.”
    â€œBro, he’ll be pissed.”
    I’m going, I’m going.
    Push the food away and Brad takes it, always hungry.
    I always leave via the back entrance of the cafeteria so that I don’t have to make eye contact with anyone. But I’m not always that successful, you see.
    On the way out, I cross paths with Nikki. She’s got this guy, Luke, with her, and he’s handing over her purse. As she looks back at the door, I happen to be the one walking out. We exchange glances. That smile, one I’ve seen before. Strand of red hair brushed with her hand back over her ear. Blue eyes on me. This is where I’d trip and fall if I let it get to me, but I don’t. But so what, she smiled at me? So what? She says hello. She says my name. She slows down and waits until I’ve gone.
    So what?
    It’s not a big deal.
    But Brad makes it a big deal.
    Goes on and on: “Bro, there’s no way you didn’t see that...!”
    I play it off the way I know how things should be played: “Yeah, I saw.”
    â€œYou know you have to talk to her now,” Brad says.
    I’m thinking, “What makes anything mandatory if I don’t want to?” Yeah, I want to talk to her, and yeah, I like her—so what? But just because we looked at each other doesn’t mean now I’m supposed to let go of my own problems.
    What problems?
    No, I’m pushing that aside. Not thinking about that.
    â€œDon’t be stupid,” Brad’s saying, as we walk around back, where the theater kids smoke because it’s near the auditorium stage.
    Jon-Jon and a few others hang here.
    You can hear barking from far away. That’s Jetson, his corgi. He always brings the dog to school. It’d be a problem if he went to class, but he’s got all that covered. Rumor has it he pays off the principal. Halverson gets a cut from sales. It’s just a rumor. Gossip.
    But that’s like all things at Meadows.
    Everything’s gossip until it’s naked truth.
    Brad tells Jon-Jon. Of course he tells Jon-Jon. “Dude, Nikki Dillon’s got a thing for our bro here!”
    Some days I can almost see it happening: I’ll start by punching Brad in the gut. He’ll wince in pain and I’ll wrap—I don’t know, sometimes it’s rope, other times it’s piano wire—around his throat until his neck snaps. I’ll say something clever and then walk away. The next day people will know what I did and everyone will be happy. Brad’s body is brushed under the floorboards.
    Jon-Jon tugs at Jetson’s leash. The dog runs up to Brad, hyper and seemingly happy as always. Corgis. Happiness is a corgi.
    â€œBrad,” Jon-Jon says without looking up from his phone, “enough.”
    â€œYeah, sorry, man.” Brad works on finishing the chicken fingers.
    I’m watching him until Jon-Jon asks, “Hunter, how are you feeling today?” Jon-Jon’s eyes are almost always glued to the phone in his hands. Guess it’s the way he conducts business. But