Page 72 of The Corruption of Hollis Brown

Walt took one last drag, then chucked the cigarette out the window onto the road.

Some time, s’il vous plaît. Be kind and wait for me.

Core

What do you think that feeling is, when we touch?

Don’t know, don’t care to know.

It’s . . . I don’t think it’s supposed to feel good; I think it’s supposed to just be “too much” because it isn’t supposed to happen at all.

Hollis, it’s 3 a.m.

Is it our souls scraping together, do you think? It’s brittle, like charcoal, like it has a thousand holes and a thousand places for them to catch. It hurts, but hurt isn’t exactly the right word because it’s not painful, really. Just overwhelming.

Walt was quiet, and Hollis could feel him frowning.

What does it feel like for you?

Walt sighed angrily and opened their eyes.

I want to be asleep.

Like eating honey from the fingertips of God?

And there it was, the glow of Walt’s humiliation, followed closely by frustration. Adorable.

God, Hollis, it’s like being electrocuted, falling from a height and getting a massage all at once. It feels out of control, like trying to lasso a hurricane. It feels too small and too big, too hot and too cold, and I didn’t even know that last one until you kept me there for more than five minutes.

That was certainly something to explore later.

Do you hate it? Hollis asked instead.

Walt sighed, still embarrassed.

No, I don’t hate it, Hollis. I don’t hate you being . . . being close. Now can we go to sleep?

Nova

Annie eyed him sharp and keen the next day.

“You didn’t used to smoke,” she said. “I saw you yesterday, through the window.”

Walt shrugged.

“This is a steel town. Almost everyone over forty does it. Plus, I got these off Jorge, so consider them victory cigs.”

Annie pulled her backpack strap tight.

“They’re saying you knocked him out in one hit. That’s pretty wild.”

Mouth.

“Pretty lucky.” Hollis laughed. “It was a very ‘knees weak, arms are heavy; there’s vomit on his sweater already, Mom’s spaghetti’ sort of scenario, Annie. I didn’t even go there to do that; I was looking for you the whole time, but Clementine distracted me and then Timothy manhandled me down the stairs.”

Annie hummed, “I heard she’s still pissed at you. She wanted to ask you out.”

Gross.