Page 62 of The Corruption of Hollis Brown

Walt’s fondness filled their chest with warmth. He shrugged again.

“I don’t think anyone is going to try again after tonight, anyway.”

“But don’t do it after you leave here either,” James said, and he was serious. “People are talking, yeah. Things might not be the same, and you might not be able to goad people at school into it anymore. But that’s a habit you gotta break, and it’s not going away when we graduate and you’re not with us. You’ll be surrounded by people who don’t care. A lot of guys at the gym get into it for that reason. I’m not one of them, but I’ve seen it. If you don’t practice or have a coach, there’s probably no one around to tell you to stop. And Hollis, man, I know we’re not fucking friends, but I’m telling you to stop.”

Timothy looked down at James, pleased, then turned back to Hollis.

“You’re an all right guy though, Hollis.” Tim smirked. “Didn’t expect to learn that today.”

Walt put out his cigarette on the stairs.

“Well. I hope Jorge and steroids have a happy ending. He comes my way again, I’ll knock him out flat again. He gives you guys trouble, send him to me. I don’t have a scholarship to keep.”

James opened his mouth to reply, but the door slammed wide. Clementine was standing in the rectangle of light. She threw Hollis’s coat down at him hard and stormed back inside.

Timothy grimaced.

“Yeah, you should probably leave. Will’s freaking out, and he probably told Clementine about the fight. You know that’s his sister, right?”

Walt snorted; he pushed his arms into Hollis’s coat. “No, I did not.”

“You can’t catch a break, man.” Timothy laughed. He slapped Walt on the shoulder, friendly and rough. “Have a good night.”

James nodded and followed Timothy back up the stairs.

“Hollis,” he called.

Walt and Hollis looked up.

“You can change that, you know,” he said.

Hollis had never seen James smile, but James’s eyes crinkled at the sides like he wanted to. “Scholarship and all,” James finished. “It’s not hard if you try. See you around.”

The door closed behind him.

Stay

Walt crouched down on his heels, then stretched up tall, cracking their back.

You gonna tell me how you learned to do that?

I was seventeen and broke in the twenties. Half of us fought for cash. You learned quick if you wanted to keep your teeth.

Hollis laughed. Sometimes you say things and I just imagine Oliver Twist, or, like, Sherlock Holmes.

Psh. That was a completely different time period and country.

Hollis turned over that thought in his head a few times until the edges softened, but the heart of it still pleased him. Walt punching someone for him. Effortless, practiced.

Walt lit another cigarette.

I’m gonna savor these, but I think I deserve another for the wait.

Fine. You fucking hedonist.

Walt sent Hollis a thrill of amusement, and Hollis soothed it back with bitter fondness.

Suddenly there was a tapping sound, like someone was banging glass.