Page 25 of The Corruption of Hollis Brown

“No, I have to wait until Friday. In the meantime, I’m stuck at home. Anyone can say anything about me at school, and I won’t even be able to defend myself.”

“Ya do that often? You seem like you might have a viper’s tongue.”

“If you want to call it that, yeah,” Hollis said, folding his arms.

Walt nodded. He seemed pleased. “Good to know. At least you got that going for you.”

“What do you mean by that?” Hollis asked.

Hollis thought they were about to go on a walk or something, but instead they were just lingering there in the center of the road. Walt hadn’t moved an inch from where he stood. Sure, his feet turned to face Hollis as he walked closer, but Walt seemed comfortable where they were.

Maybe Walt was just tired. He looked tired.

“Some people start with nothing. I gotta really build them up to be something better, solve their problems with nothing but wit,” Walt explained. “But, if you’re clever and everyone already knows that, it’s not hard to be charming. Being charming is just being clever without being a dick. Everything’s easier when you’re charming.”

“So, this is something you do often. . . . Is it, like, your job or whatever?” Hollis asked.

Walt grimaced. “Kind of? It’s basically the only thing I’m good at. Pays well too, sometimes.”

Hollis gave him A Look.

“I mean clearly not right now,” Walt said, “but that’s how freelancing works. Some days are cream and caviar, others are sleeping in a hole I dug over a buried thermal spring so I don’t freeze to death. You win some, you lose some.”

“You should get a real job. How old are you?”

Walt’s face did something complicated. “Seventeen. But I’ve been on my own for a while.”

Ah. “Foster kid?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Walt shook his head. “It is not my favorite thing to talk about.”

Hollis smirked. He liked Walt. He was weird and kind of unnerving, but he was always funny.

“So, matchmaker. What would you do with me?” Hollis spun in a circle so Walt could see the full picture, throwing his arms out wide.

Walt put a hand on his chin theatrically and peered close.

“Well, for starters, you dress kind of bad, so I’d work on that first—and don’t start with me, I am literally homeless. You have no idea how I dressed when I could wear what I want.”

Hollis laughed. “Okay. What else?”

“Your haircut is bad; men today have no understanding of the impact of a good haircut,” Walt griped. “After that I’ll need to know more about your social situation so I can slow-burn a meteoric rise of some kind. You going to college?”

Hollis shook his head. “It’s the factory or construction out here for most of us.”

“Still?” Walt said, disgusted. “Small towns. Things never change.”

City people, Hollis thought meanly. They don’t change either.

“Whatever, I’ll figure out something. We can talk about it down the line,” Walt was saying, to himself it seemed. “It’s October, so there should be about eight months of schooling left. That’s enough time—”

“You sure you’ll still be here in eight months?” Hollis interrupted.

Walt looked up, startled, like he forgot Hollis could hear him. Then he grinned.

“Aw, baby, for you? I’ll stick around,” he murmured.

Walt was flirting with him, Hollis realized. He was flirting.