The Boy From Detroit

Chapter Six

It suddenly started raining after school. Kareem pulled out his bicycle from the station and walked along the sheltered part leading to the gate and got to the designated waiting area intended for students beyond the chain-link fence, the rain pattering hard on the steel roof over his head. There were about fifteen students trapped there, three with their own bicycles. Three cops were eyeing them. Kareem propped the bicycle against a steel column and put on his headphones with his helmet in his hand and tried to zone out. He knew Terada was watching from inside the SUV observing him through binoculars from somewhere even though Kareem couldn't spot him. Kareem looked at the time on his phone: 4:15 p.m.

He then suddenly felt the presence of someone behind him; he vaguely heard a voice through the music blasting through his headset. He turned and saw Jasmine, the smart girl, standing next to him. She seemingly was talking to him. Kareem quickly removed his headset and said, "Sorry?"

"Your laptop, it's sticking out of the bag. It'll get wet."

"Oh, damn," Kareem zipped it up. "Thanks."

"No problem," Jasmine said. "How are you going?"

Kareem gestured to his bike.

"My mother's picking me up. You need a lift?"

"Thanks. But I can manage."

"You'll get wet."

"I'll wait for the rain out."

"Alright."

Silence.

"By the way," she said. "I like your name. Kyrie. Isn't there a basketball player also named Kyrie?"

"Yeah. Are you a basketball fan...?"

"No..."

"Yeah...I figured right as the question came out of my mouth. Are you into any sports?"

"I'm into competitive curling."

"Really?"

Jasmine laughed. "No. I'm just messing with you."

"What is curling anyway?"

"It's the, uh, winter Olympics sport, where two players sweep the surface in front of the stone as it slides down a sheet of ice?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I've seen it. Hey, does Mr. Walker give homework every single day?"

"Pretty much."

"Wow."

"So does Mrs. Calgary."

"Social studies?"

"Yeah."

"I have it tomorrow."

"We both do. Look, if you need any help, let me know."

"Thanks, that's very cool of you."

"That's because I'm a cool person."

"Ha!"

A white car pulled up. "Oh, my mom's here. Are you sure you don't want a ride?"

"I'm sure."

"See you, then."

"See you."

"Take care."

"You too."

* * *

At five o'clock the rain simmered down. Kareem got on his bicycle and rode home. Thirty yards behind him, the SUV trailed, its headlights bouncing off the wet tarmac. A half-hour later, Kareem reached home, parked the bicycle in the garage, went upstairs, and fell on the bed. A few moments later, he fell asleep.