“Mr. Miller doesn’t like Karl. That’s been clear from the first day,” she said, and met Karl’s eyes. “Which is odd, considering Dean’s famous charm and friendliness toward everyone he meets.”
Despite the narrow-eyed glare Karl sent her, his lips twitched faintly in the middle of that thick, coppery beard. “Doesn’t like you much either now,” he told her.
“From him?” She flicked her wrist in dismissal. “That’s a compliment.”
“Please stay on topic, Ms. Dearborn,” Principal Evers advised, and she obliged.
“It’s true that I was insubordinate and Ned cheated. Probably because he could use a tutor, and the school should make sure he gets the extra help he needs.” When Principal Evers frowned and scrawledChem tutor => Daniels?on his notepad, she moved him further up her list of favorite administrators. “But Karl shouldn’t be disciplined, and he should be allowed to retake the quiz. He did nothing wrong except sit beside Ned.”
Poor, confused Ned. Last week, he’d defined an electron as “one of those machines that reads Scantron tests.”
Ned’s mom turned to him, her expression softening. “Neddy, if you need a tutor, we’ll get you one. Why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time in class?”
“I...” His voice cracked, and he stopped and took a shuddering breath. Then he nodded, his eyes too bright, before dropping his chin to his chest and staring at the tile floor. “I’m sorry. I won’t cheat again.”
Looking thoughtful, Principal Evers tapped his pen against his notepad. “And Karl had nothing to do with it?”
They watched the top of Ned’s blond head shake a silent no.
In the end, the principal apologized to Karl for the false accusation of cheating, thanked Molly for telling the truth under difficult circumstances, and shuffled both families out of the conference room so he could meet privately with Ned and his mom before the final bell rang.
Outside Principal Evers’s office, Karl scratched at his beard and considered her.
“Shouldn’t’ve done that,” he finally said. “But thank you.”
“No biggie.” She shrugged. “Merely performing my civic duty.”
He rolled his eyes. “Nerd.”
“You know it,” she said cheerfully.
After that incident, she and Karl became friends of a sort. She sat with him and Matthew in the cafeteria. In the summer, when she began working at Ice Queen—the local ice cream parlor—on the weekends, he often walked to the store, bought a kiddie cone, and spent an hour or two reading his latest sci-fi paperback from the library at a table near the cash register, although he didn’t say much.
That same summer, her parents decided they’d remain in Maryland until she graduated, which was fine by her. There would be no new group dynamics to decipher. No unfamiliar warrens of hallways to navigate. No more goodbyes, at least for the next two years. With that knowledge, she allowed a few fragile roots to grow and anchor her in place at Harlot’s Bay High.
Karl was the hardiest of those roots. Strange but true.
Junior year was more of the same, although they had fewer classes together. College wasn’t in the cards for him. The Deans were struggling financially, and as soon as he graduated, he intended to contribute a full-time paycheck to the family coffers. So he hadn’t bothered with—as he inimitably put it—“AP Whatever the Fuck or Honors Blah Blah Blah.” Especially since passing those classes without doing homework would be next to impossible. But they still saw each other at lunch every day and at the ice cream parlor on Sundays.
They didn’t share secrets. Didn’t call each other. Didn’t talk about their feelings. But he was still the closest friend she’d had in years. If she sometimes wanted more than that, no big deal. At umpteen different schools, she’d watched relationships crash and burn over and over again. She wouldn’t risk whatever they had in pursuit of something that would only end in disaster. And after so many years of studying everyone from a detached distance, she wasn’t even entirely certain how to pop the invisible bubble that surrounded her. Only her dad and her grandparents seemed to step through the barrier without any trouble.
So nothing really changed between her and Karl until senior year, when he started dating.
Someone else. Not Molly.
Twenty years ago
At first, senior year fuckingruled.
Because of all his yard work clients and his part-time job washing dishes at the bakery, Karl was able to buy his Chevy Nova andthe parts it needed to run. And after three summers of watching him mow her parents’ lawn, Becky Waller unexpectedly asked him out. Which was a goddamn miracle, because she was a thousand miles out of his league.
He might be better at tests, but she was better atlife. Hardworking. Easygoing. Cute as hell. Soft and warm against him when he pulled her close. Like the quilt on his bed, the one his mom pieced together before he was born.
The only real problem? She didn’t much like Dearborn. Hadn’t from the start, and he had no clue why not. The first time he’d suggested going to Ice Queen and visiting Dearborn there, even an oblivious asshole like him could see Becky’s blatant discomfort.
“How did you and Molly become friends anyway?” she’d asked, her hand stiff in his.
He shrugged. “Year before last, Mr. Miller was a dick. Accused me of cheating. She defended me and got in trouble.”
