Like father like son, p.14

  Like Father, Like Son, p.14

Like Father, Like Son
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  She got a big round of applause for that.

  “I especially want to thank my little investigative team. I’m talking about Gabe, Cedric, Mateo, and of course, my girl, Ruby Sandoval. I love you guys,” she said. “And… yeah, I’m saving the best for last.”

  I could feel my friends looking at me, and Ruby elbowed me in the side. My face got a little warmer, too.

  “I just want to say,” Zoe went on, “my boy Ali over here stepped up for me in ways that some of you know about, and in other ways that you never will. But trust me when I say you should elect him class president. Or maybe give him the rest of the year off, cause he deserves it.”

  People laughed at that, and there was some more clapping. A couple people put their hands on my shoulders and jostled me around, too. I’m not going to say I felt like any kind of hero, but it was way better than a lot of what I’d been getting at school lately.

  Still, I knew what else Zoe was getting ready to say, and I wasn’t excited about it all.

  “Anyway,” she went on, “I hope nobody minds, but I actually have some news to share, and this is my last chance to do it, before… well, you’ll see. Just listen up.”

  Adele Freeman and another one of Zoe’s friends from choir came out then and stood behind her. They were both wearing pink scarves wrapped around their left arms, like Zoe’s cast. Once they hit center stage, they started beatboxing, laying down a live track.

  “This is called My Washington,” Zoe said. Then she took the mike off the stand and jumped in.

  Yo, yo, yo, listen up… listen up…

  You know I’ve had it rough these days, it’s been a heavy load,

  But what I haven’t told you is, I’m ’bout to hit the road.

  We’re packing up and moving out, to live some Cali style,

  But don’t you fret, I won’t forget my sweet OG square mile.

  DC is where my roots are at, I grew ’em down and deep.

  I know this city inside out, I’d walk it in my sleep.

  But even so, it’s time to go, and time for me to say,

  “Good-bye to you, my Washington, hello to you, LA.”

  Gabe, Cedric, and Mateo were giving me and Ruby wide eyes at that point. Nobody else knew until just then that Zoe was moving away. And while I was glad she’d let me in on the secret, like I said before, it wasn’t what you’d call good news.

  That’s right, we’re going Hollywood, I hear they’ve got nice hills.

  My momma, she’ll be slaying it while I work on my skills.

  ’Cause yeah, I messed up big-time, and took too long to see,

  The only one to blame in this ain’t nobody but me.

  So now I own this mess for sure, and yep, it’s been too real.

  But here’s a fact: I’m bouncing back! ’Cause like this arm, I’ll heal!

  The backup girls had their scarves off now, swaying and waving them over their heads, like they’d turned those pretend casts into victory flags. Everyone else was on their feet, too, cheering Zoe along while she spit her last rhyme of the night.

  That’s it, that’s what I came to say, it’s what Miss Z’s about,

  And just like that, my Washington, I’m saying, “Zoe—OUT!”

  BACK HOME AFTER the open house, we had a little party at our place for everyone. It was a celebration, for sure, but also a kind of good-bye party for Zoe and Dee-Cee, since they were leaving in a few days.

  Dee-Cee brought a huge pecan pie. Nana made peach upside-down cake, and put out about six kinds of ice cream. Gabe’s mom brought homemade chocolate truffles, too. It was like good, on top of great, on top of awesome.

  The best part, though, was when Dee-Cee saw our piano on the back sunporch.

  “Well, lookee here,” she said. “Who plays this?”

  “Dad does,” I told her.

  Dad was standing in the door of the porch, and Dee-Cee turned to look at him, then pointed back at the piano.

  “Shall we?” she asked. And the look on Dad’s face was like some rookie who had just gotten called up to the majors.

  “How do you feel about Gershwin?” he said, sitting down at the keyboard.

  Now it was Dee-Cee’s turn to smile big. “You have good taste,” she said. “Go ahead, Alex. I’ll keep up.”

  Dad played one of Nana Mama’s favorite songs, “Summertime,” but in the style of Angélique Kidjo, who is one of his favorite singers. Dee-Cee tore it up, of course, and everyone yelled for more when they were done.

  As they were starting up the next song, I looked around and realized there was one person missing. I didn’t see Zoe anywhere.

  So I went looking for her.

  She wasn’t in the dining room, or the living room. Then I checked upstairs. It seemed weird to think she might have gone into one of the bedrooms, but she hadn’t. It wasn’t until I was just about to head back down, when I heard Zoe’s voice.

  “Hey!”

  “Hello?” I said.

  “Out here.”

  I turned to look, and saw her outside the window at the end of the upstairs hall. While everyone was on the back porch listening to the music, Zoe had snuck out onto the front porch roof. Which was so her.

  I went over and ducked out the window to sit next to her.

  “What are you doing up here?” I asked.

  “Just thinking,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “About how I’m going to miss you when we go,” she said. “It doesn’t really seem fair.”

  I didn’t think so, either. Just when Zoe and I were getting this stuff behind us, and before I could even figure out if she was my girlfriend, they were moving away. I could understand why, but man, I hated it.

  “I’ll miss you, too,” I said, and put her hand in mine.

  It was nice out there, looking down at the street and up at the sky. We could hear Dad playing, and Dee-Cee singing “Eleanor Rigby” downstairs, while the party kept going without us.

  “The judge said I can do that counseling and community service out in LA. Momma just has to sign some paperwork, and notify the court about where it will be happening. Then we’re good to go,” Zoe said.

  “What about Kim?” I asked.

  “She and Momma aren’t speaking right now, but they’ll work it out,” Zoe said. “Orlando got three months. She broke it off with him even before that, though. Now that he’s out of the picture, it might turn out okay.”

  “Do you think I’ll ever see you again?” I asked.

  “Sure,” Zoe said. “Momma’s touring all the time. And besides, I hear they have these things called airplanes. Supposedly, people fly them to LA every day.”

  “Don’t make me laugh right now,” I said. “I’m kind of busy being sad about this.”

  “Just sayin’. You should come visit,” she told me. “Like… please do.”

  I looked over at her, and she looked back, and we kissed. One more time.

  “I’ve always wanted to go to California,” I said.

  Zoe leaned her head against my shoulder. “Then I guess I’ll see you there,” she told me.

  I smiled in the dark, and just let the silence ride a little bit. I was really sorry she was leaving, but at the same time, I was glad to be sitting up on that roof with her. For now, anyway, I was exactly where I wanted to be.

  It’s like Nana says. If you look closely enough, no matter what else is going on, and how complicated things might get, you can always find something to be grateful for. And you can always find a reason to say…

  Life is good.

  FOR HIS PRODIGIOUS imagination and championship of literacy in America, James Patterson was awarded the 2019 National Humanities Medal, and he has also received the Literarian Award for Outstanding Service to the American Literary Community from the National Book Foundation. He holds the Guinness World Record for the most #1 New York Times bestsellers, including the Max Einstein, Middle School, I Funny, and Jacky Ha-Ha series, and his books have sold more than 400 million copies worldwide. A tireless champion of the power of books and reading, Patterson created a children’s book imprint, JIMMY Patterson, whose mission is simple: “We want every kid who finishes a JIMMY Book to say, ‘PLEASE GIVE ME ANOTHER BOOK.’” He has donated more than three million books to students and soldiers and funds more than four hundred Teacher and Writer Education Scholarships at twenty-one colleges and universities. He also supports forty thousand school libraries and has donated millions of dollars to independent bookstores. Patterson invests proceeds from the sales of JIMMY Patterson Books in pro-reading initiatives.

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  James Patterson, Like Father, Like Son

 


 

 
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