But the new ease has vanished by morning and Nathan wakes full of fear that Roy will dislike him today. Roy will discover that yesterday was an accident and should never have happened. Nathan dresses with deliberateness and eats his breakfast slowly. The night was cloudy but morning is clearing, he notes the changing sky through the kitchen windows. He heads for the bus when he hears the engine running. The grass, heavy with morning dew, whispers to his feet as he crosses the yard. Roy waits in the driver's seat. He smiles when he sees Nathan, something shy in his expression. Nathan takes the seat behind him, and he hands back his books and asks Nathan to look after them. The books are warm and precious, placed in Nathan's trust Roy grinds the bus into gear and commences the long drive to high school.
At lunch Roy finds Nathan again, setting his tray next to Nathan's, and announces that the essay, "Steam Engines in the U.S.A.," went over pretty big with his teacher. There is a message of gratitude behind the words, and Nathan savors it. Later Randy and Burke join them, and they tell jokes and dig elbows into each other's ribs. Nathan remains comfortable even in the presence of these other boys, and eats his lunch as he listens.
Randy strikes Nathan as curious at Nathan's sudden presence in their group. But he seems willing to accept. Burke hardly seems aware of anything, except occasionally Roy.
After lunch they head outside to the smoking patio, where Roy and the others smoke cigarettes. Roy says he thinks Nathan ought to go hunting with him and his friends sometime; even if you don't kill anything, hunting is fun, he says. Nathan studies Roy's lips on the thin cigarette, the place where the tender lip touches the filter, the compression of Roy's cheeks as he inhales. A bird wheels beyond his head in the clouds. The conversation continues the ease of the night before, and Nathan understands that Roy rarely talks so freely or on so many subjects. Roy declares he thinks it very practical to do your homework with somebody. The company makes it easier. This reminds him of his algebra class, where the senior class is studying something about the values of X and Y. Nathan listens attentively. Roy asks if he knows about solving equations for the unknown, and Nathan answers, truthfully, no. Tonight, Roy says, he will teach Nathan about it, as a way of paying Nathan back for the help on the railroad essay.
During every class for the rest of the day, Roy inhabits Nathan's mind, surrounded by whiteness and emptiness. It is perfect to think of Roy and nothing else, to dwell on Roy's image and think nothing at all. Roy will teach Nathan algebra, and Nathan will study Roy's shoulders and arms. The thought makes Nathan's mere arithmetic seem tedious and small. He stares at the flaked paint and rust on the iron posts that support the canopy outside. The clock spitefully crawls. Mr. Ferrette scratches the blackboard with fevered chalk. He occupies a fraction of Nathan's mind.
On the bus home Roy remains quiet, almost somber. Nathan sits behind him again but this time there is some change. Roy faces the bright world beyond the windshield. The very set of his shoulders denies any knowledge of Nathan. Nathan accepts the fact quietly Fields wash by the windows, the motor roaring and groaning as Roy shifts gears with strong, sure motions. When he drives the bus to the back of the yard, under the pecan tree, he still stares straight ahead. A warning is evident in his quiet; Nathan presses for no attention. In the yard under the spreading pecan branches, Roy waits while Nathan gathers his books and hurries out of the bus, mumbling a goodbye that is barely returned. He does not ask whether Roy will come to his house tonight. Breathless, discomposed, he flies through the kitchen past Mom's flowered skirts (in which she is still studying how to be invisible) through the cloud of Dad's cigarettes (where he is already vanishing in the television's blue aura). Nathan climbs the stairs to his room and closes the door behind him.
Supper comes and goes. Nathan finishes his homework at the desk, from which he can see the lighted square of Roy's window. Now and then Roy's shadow passes the bright frame. Nathan sits quietly over his books. He studies his math a while, hardly concentrating, until he hears footsteps on the stairs.
When the door opens Roy is holding his algebra book before him like a shield. He grips the cover, which features a series of black and purple triangles on a field of burnt sienna. Roy's expression makes Nathan immediately cautious. "I told you I was coming over. Did you forget?"
"No." Nathan stands.
"Can I come in?"
"Sure."
