No mom or dad dropping anybody off in front.

Not even Bernadette alone.

My mom hired people to take coats and serve

glasses of champagne.

The server people wear all black

and stand holding their trays of glasses

with one hand, the other one behind their backs.

Football players, managers

and some people who wrote nice things

about my dad for newspapers and magazines.

Even his old tailor who one time made me and my dad

matching suits that we wore to some awards dinner

in New York City.

Feels like a long time ago,

when everybody we met wanted an autograph or

to shake my daddy’s hand,

take a picture with him, ask again and again and again

if I was a football player too.

It’s cold tonight. From here, I can see the moon.

Bright. Full. A thousand moons old.

Then just as I’m climbing down from the window seat,

giving up on my boys coming, Ollie skids up on his bike.

Takes off his helmet, says

My mom’s too busy getting herself all cute to be on time.

I had to leave her.

And right behind him come Daniel and Darry,

pulling up in Darry’s mom’s car,

running toward the house, yelling

Let’s get this party started, y’all.

My smile is the whole moon.

That bright.

That big.

After Midnight

After midnight, the music slows down

and the grown-ups lean into each other to slow dance.

Me and Ollie are the last two of the Fantastic Four

left at the party.

We sit on the couch, drinking soda and eating cake.

My dad’s had a good night. He’s hugging Mama from behind,

his chin on her shoulder, his eyes closed.

They’re both smiling.

Even though she started the party off wearing high heels,

she’s barefoot now.

So is Bernadette and some of the other ladies.

Then Ollie gets up and starts swaying to the music,

his eyes closed, his arms out like

he’s hugging someone. Only thing is, the way he’s dancing,

you can believe that he really is.

When he lifts his arm up and lets his invisible partner spin beneath it

the way some of the grown-ups are doing,

I laugh so hard, soda sprays out of my nose and burns.

Then Ollie is laughing too. But he keeps on dancing.

He just keeps on dancing.

Football

I got Ollie!

We’re on the field pulling sides for a pickup game.

It’s my daddy’s football, so I get first choosing.

There’s a dude named Everett who’s in eighth grade,

way bigger than any of us, and I know it’s because

he was in eighth grade last year too!

I got Randy, Everett says.

I got Daniel.

I got Sam.

I got Darry.

I got Jet. And it doesn’t matter who I got, Everett says.

We’re gonna crush y’all anyway.