Andy V. Roamer - Why Cant Sophomore Summer Be Like Pizza?

A NineStar Press Publication

www.ninestarpress.com

Why Cant Sophomore Summer Be Like Pizza?

ISBN: 978-1-64890-345-8

2021 Andy V. Roamer

Cover Art 2021 Natasha Snow

Published in August, 2021 by NineStar Press, New Mexico, USA.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact NineStar Press at .

Also available in Print, ISBN: 978-1-64890-346-5

CONTENT WARNING:

This book contains depictions of homophobic slurs, bullying, and references to gay conversion therapy.

Why Cant Sophomore Summer Be Like Pizza?

The Pizza Chronicles, Book Four

Andy V. Roamer

Table of Contents

For Rene and John for your continued support and those scrumptious dinners at Asahi

Chapter One

A Different Summer

I cant believe its summer again. Ive finished two years at Latin School. Halfway to graduation.

And I just turned sixteen. Yeah. Sixteen. Wow. Am I an adult? I can do some things, like drive once I get my license. I can have sex here in Massachusetts. As if Im going to, LOL. Though my parents can still forbid me to see certain people until Im eighteen. Whoa! What? I cant buy a drink yet. And I cant vote. But I can pre-register to vote? What?

So, Im, like, half an adult? A third? Two-tenths? Three-eighths? Double LOL!

Do I feel like an adult? Sometimes. And sometimes I still feel like that scared, confused kid with so much to learn about life. So, what is life going to teach me next? Where do I go from here? Where do I go from here?

!#$!@#!@$#!$!!!

Okay, RV, chill out. Stop getting ahead of yourself. Learn to stay in the moment like all those books say. Not just books, but Mr. Aniso too.

I hear you, Mr. Aniso! Hope youre enjoying summer in Where did you go? Ames, Iowa? Helping out your partner Bens parents. Youre such a good guy. Will I ever be like you? Helpful. Confident. And strong. Yes, strong. Maybe not macho strong on the outside, but definitely on the inside. As I keep pointing out to Bobby.

Oh, Bobby. Took him to our favorite place in the woods today. It was a perfect afternoon. Blue sky, green trees, those hills in the distance that always make me believe theres a future. A good future. I wanted to share it with Bobby. Wanted to celebrate the start of summer, sitting on our rock, looking out at everything.

I dont think Bobby was into celebrating anything. He just sat there, not saying a word, looking out into space.

Celebrate. Maybe it wasnt the right word to use. I know Bobby teases me whenever I use a fancy new wordme and my words!but celebrate isnt fancy, is it? Its regular, something everyone does. I know he probably doesnt feel like celebrating these days, given everything hes dealing with, but Im just trying to stay positive. Is that so wrong?

I glanced over at Bobby. He just kept sitting quietly, staring straight ahead.

Wasnt sure whether to say anything else that might come out as annoying. Or better to keep my big mouth shut. Last thing I ever want to do is upset him.

I decided a question would be okay.

What are you thinking about? I asked quietly, staring straight ahead too.

Nothing much.

Oh.

Nothing much, he repeated. Only about last summer.

Last summer?

Yeah. Do you remember how we began last summer?

When we went to the park, you mean?

Yeah. Larz Anderson Park. It was nice, wasnt it?

The memory of sitting on the hill in that little grove of trees, looking over at the twinkling lights of downtown Boston, came back to me. And then another memory. Bobbys hand on top of mine, making me feel happy and secure.

Today was and wasnt the same. Bobbys hand was resting on the rock right next to mine. I wanted to place my hand on top of his, connecting to that moment a year ago. But I didnt dare. This was a different summer. And a different beginning.

Crazy how things change, Bobby said. Who would have thought the beginning of this summer would be so different? Last year we said it was magic. This year He stopped, and his voice grew quieter. This year its about my trying to be a human being again.

I knew what he was referring to, of course. All the work he was doing to recover from that injury hed suffered at the Thanksgiving Day game.

Hows the rehab going? I asked.

Bobby shrugged. Its going. Some days I think my vision is getting better and other days things are blurry again. My reflexes are a joke. And I still get tired. Very tired. He let out a laugh. One of those laughs thats more angry than happy, which I now associate with Bobby. One good thing, RV. I wont need practice when I become an old man. I know what that f-feels like now.

I winced, hearing Bobby stutter. Something that had appeared only recently. I know the second concussion was very serious, making his brain swell, as his parents explained to me. Bobby was incredibly lucky the doctors were able to stop the swelling with some kind of intricate procedure that most probably saved his life. But Bobbys parents also told me there was damage. Especially to his vision. Other cognitive damage too. Cognitive, a serious-sounding word. It was complicated, but as the doctors explained to them, injuring the brain affects a lot of areas. Symptoms might come out later and might take a long time to heal.

All we can do is stay positive. And most importantly help Bobby stay positive, taking one day at a time.

His parents mantra. Where have I heard that before? Easy to say, harder to put into practice.

I glanced over at Bobby again. No joke about being an old man was coming to me. And nothing positive to say that didnt sound fake or patronizing. Ha! Patronizing. Cant resist those ten-cent words, can I? Boy, have I learned about patronizing in the last few months. Saying something that pretends to be helpful and soothing to someone but is just fake. Like if I ever say, Bobby, I know what youre going through. Or Bobby, I know how you feel.

Bobby will jump down my throat if I say anything like that. Being a Black person, he tells me hes especially sensitive to anyone being patronizing. People do it without even realizing it. And they dont realize how much I hate it, he adds, those big dark eyes of his flashing a deep anger. Im just me. Bobby Marshall.

That anger in his eyes always scares me a little bit. But Bobbys right. I dont know how that feels, obviously. Or how it feels to have a serious injury that nearly killed you when you were just playing football, the game you loved. So, I keep quiet. And try to be honest. Painfully, slowly, haltingly honest.

And that means shutting up a lot of the time. As usual, Bobby sensed what was going through my mind. He turned to me and gave me a slight nudge, bumping his shoulder up against mine.

Im sorry. Im a real downer, arent I, RV? he said.

I started shaking my head and was about to say something patronizing like Oh, no youre not, Bobby, when luckily, he stopped me, giving me another nudge.

No, no. Go out and celebrate. Dont make excuses for me. No excuses. He shook his head. Something else Im working on. Thats with my therapist. He let out another one of those half-angry laughs. Im seeing a therapist, a neurologist, a neuropsychologist, an optometrist, an ophthalmologist, my primary care guy, the rehab nurses, technicians. I never knew there was so many ologists! But enough about my wonderful summer. He turned to me. Tell me about you. Hows your summer starting out?