Page 80 of The Corruption of Hollis Brown

Roll each half into a large rectangle. Roll up, starting from a long side. Moisten edge with water and seal. Taper ends.

Place loaves, seam-side down, on the prepared baking sheet. Lightly beat egg white with 1 tablespoon water and brush over loaves. Cover with a damp cloth and let rise until nearly doubled, 35 to 40 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 375°F/190°C.

Use a sharp knife to make three or four diagonal cuts, about ¼-inch deep, across the top of each loaf. Bake in the preheated oven for 20 minutes. Brush loaves with egg white mixture. Continue baking until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the center reads 190°F/88°C or loaves sound hollow when tapped, 15 to 20 minutes more. If necessary, cover loosely with foil to prevent over-browning.

Remove loaves from the baking sheet and cool on a wire rack.

Grease

Timothy gave him the information for James’s match. Reassured him that it wasn’t a big deal. Even rode the bus over with him after school, but Hollis still felt out of place.

He wasn’t someone who went to the gym. Much less a sport-specific gym like this, where it was an open-plan space and people noticed when strangers walked inside.

Walt, on the other hand, smelled the sweat and metal and men and said, I’d rather jump ship than spend the rest of my time with you hanging around in a place like this.

James was talking to his coach. He glanced over at Hollis and Tim, and nodded.

Walt watched the fight keenly, tracked James’s strengths and weaknesses. Spoke to Timothy for them when the situation required it. Waved off the membership discount James’s coach offered them, as well as the sad look in James’s eyes, inevitable and kind.

This really isn’t your thing, huh?

Y’don’t have to like everything you’re good at. I don’t like to hurt people if I can manage it.

James and Timothy didn’t let him leave afterward. They took him to a nearby bar and crowded him into a booth like this was something they did every day.

It felt strange, but they weren’t letting it get awkward, they filled the silence easily, like they’d talked about doing this and were determined to make sure it went well no matter what Hollis did.

James ordered them three nonalcoholic lagers and shook his head when Hollis took out his wallet.

“Why are you guys being so nice to me?”

James shrugged one shoulder. “You came all the way out here ’cause I wanted you to. Least I can do is buy you a drink.”

“He wants to know why you’re turning all this down,” Timothy said, straight to the point, the way Hollis liked it.

Hollis shrugged. “Don’t like hurting people.”

“What are you going to do after we graduate?” James asked. “I keep thinking about that time . . . at the beginning of the year. You’ve gotta have some hard opinions about that if you said what you said and you did what you did. That’s why I thought maybe this whole thing would help.”

Hollis could feel Walt’s curiosity.

Tell you later.

“I mean, yeah. I was . . . projecting. But I’m fine now, I’ll just do what everyone else does. I’m sure my pa’s work has some openings, we can head up to the city together. It’s common enough; I’m not better than anyone else here; I’m not too good for factory work.”

Timothy’s face twisted. “No one is saying that. But you should at least try. I applied to a bunch of schools and got in, but my scholarships weren’t enough to make up the difference, so I’m headed to the city like you.”

Hollis was horrified, he assumed Timothy would have been all right. He was a star athlete, popular, James’s best friend . . .

“I can talk to Yulia if you want,” he said urgently. “See if maybe we can figure out something that works for you?”

Timothy shook his head. “No, man, it’s not even that. I don’t even want . . . People don’t leave here because they really want to go to school most of the time, they leave because there’s nothing here anymore. People want to stay with their families. You know this shit. If I had a job I could work around here that paid enough, I’d take it in a heartbeat. When Yulia’s family came to work nearby, we all thought things might change and we could rebuild, but nothing happened.”

“That’s not her fault,” James replied, rolling his eyes. “You should take him up on his offer. Yulia’s nice enough. Her dad probably is too. Paid for new supplies for all our school’s teams the year they moved here and no one’s seen him at a single game.”

Hollis smirked. “Mr. Egunyemi doesn’t like sports. He’s more of a musical theater guy.”