At 9:15 the phone rings, waking CJ up from
another dream. He doesn’t remember what this one is about, and
because his knee no longer hurts, he hardly remembers the other one
either. Something about school, and skating. He always dreams of
skating. High school, though… must’ve been a nightmare.
On Richard’s table, the phone rings again. CJ
stretches across the empty width of the bed to snag the receiver,
catches the cord on the side of the table, and manages to knock the
whole thing onto the floor. “s**t,” he mumbles. He has to roll over
onto his stomach and feel around until he gets hold of the cord,
then he hauls the whole thing up onto the bed. If it’s a bill
collector, he hopes they’ve hung up already. He hates talking to
them. With the receiver to his ear, he asks, “Hello?”
