The Dead Circle Read Online Free Page B

but some have more potholes than pavement. Several of the blocks still sport the faint outlines of buildings long torn down. Other areas are adorned with faded parking spots drawn on the concrete though few cars would dare park alone in the dusty wasteland. There are no security cameras aimed in this direction. There’s nothing to guard.
    In a couple of spots, crabgrass stubbornly pokes up through cracks in the asphalt. It looks as if nature is slowly trying to reclaim what humanity lost interest in. Yet, the vast vacant space sits in the shadow of modern skyscrapers, busy streets and the MGM Grand Casino.
    The juxtaposition of large modern buildings and strangely deserted swaths of land is not unique to Detroit, but this area is a very pronounced example. In the early twenty-first century, the gleaming visage of the city has become dotted with empty lots like liver spots. There are abandoned buildings, abandoned blocks and even abandoned neighborhoods, as if the city is being eaten alive by a cancer metastasizing into almost all areas of the once-healthy landscape.
    Many proud citizens of Detroit work feverishly to keep the city alive, but it’s too late to reclaim much of its past glory. Hope comes from much smaller successes: a flourishing coffee shop, a craft bicycle store, or even a streetlight being repaired. 
    More than twenty-five percent of the population left Detroit altogether in the span of four years starting in 2009. The people who remain are the strongest—those willing and able to fight in and for their city, and the weakest—those who were not physically or economically capable of escaping.
     
    ***
     
    Kevin usually liked Fridays. He had gym class for final period so his weekend started early. This week they were doing floor hockey, which was his favorite sport. But that morning his enthusiasm was dampened by a math test. He hated math. Something about long division just made his mind turn to jelly . Why would I ever need to do that without a calculator? I mean, maybe in the olden days before literally everybody had a calculator on their phone, people needed this? But today, it’s a colossal waste of time.
    He couldn’t concentrate in math anyway. This was the class he sat behind Karen Tyson. That Karen Tyson. The one that single-handedly reshaped his biggest hopes and dreams from football cards and Spider-man comic books to… the great and powerful bra strap . The magical bra strap was connected to the even-more-magical bra itself. And the bra touched something so powerful, he could barely even process the thought; Karen Tyson’s boobs. He’d never seen her boobs, but the bra strap, like a shining beacon of wondrous light, proved that they were there. How in God’s name could you even pretend to concentrate on long division when Karen Tyson’s bra strap was right there in front of you? He could almost reach out and touch it if he wasn’t afraid his heart would literally explode if he did.
    And now, he had a test. Shit .
    The anxiety that Kevin felt before and during the test was only mildly relieved when it was finished. He knew he’d been completely lost on the second half and wasn’t really sure if he’d gotten anything right on the first half. As he walked to the gymnasium, Kevin tried to push math out of his mind, not wanting his nervousness about a stupid test to bleed into his enjoyment of floor hockey.
    Within ten minutes of running around pushing a plastic puck across the floor of the gym, he was reminded of what was truly important: scoring a goal and impressing Karen Tyson. Not that he thought it would make a difference, not really. Karen Tyson was so far above him in the social food chain, she was completely unreachable. But on some level, her being so far out of reach made his desire feel safer because Kevin had no idea what he would do if he ever caught her attention. So, he focused on scoring a goal and the beautiful fantasy of her being so swept up in his floor hockey prowess