“Well, I wouldn’t want you to starve,” I laugh lightly, but inside I ache.
I didn’t even realize how much I’ve missed the Wesley family until now.
It feels like I’ve been missing a piece of my heart.
The three of us head toward a booth selling snacks while the sun begins to set. Layla is chatting with a student from her English class behind us in line when I turn to Alex, nodding toward the group of older men playing different instruments. “You ever think about joining a band?”
Alex shrugs. “Not really my scene.”
“I don’t mean abluegrassband, I’m sure there are other kids who play the stuff you like, rock or emo or whatever,” I say, not knowing much about that kind of music other than what Alex has told me. “It would be cool to seeyouup there playing someday.”
“Yeah, thatwouldbe cool,” he responds, his voice tinged with hope.
After we order our food, Alex falls into step beside me, eating a big piece of funnel cake, dropping some of the powdered sugar on his black shirt. “You seem good today,” he says with his mouth full. “I’ve been worried about you. And so has Nate, by the way.”
I’m surprised by the words and the mention of Nate, but hearing that they care warms my heart. “It’s been hard, but I’m trying.”
Layla leans into my other side, wrapping an arm around me. “See? It’s not so bad. This is good for you, being around people. You don’t have to be alone all the time.”
Alex nods in agreement.
I’ve been ignoring Grant, who seems determined to have an awful time, but then he speaks up, slicing through our bubble of warmth. “I don’t see why anyone would want to make such a spectacle of themselves,” he mutters, loud enough for all of us to hear. “Parading around town like this.”
The words hang in the air like a slap. I can feel my cheeks flush, but I stay quiet, biting my lip hard.
Layla’s fingers tighten around my arm.
Neither of us says anything, shocked that he would say something so outwardly cruel like that.
It doesn’t seem to have the same effect on Alex, who rounds on Grant immediately. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means people don’t need it shoved in their faces.” My pulse roars in my ears, and Layla’s lips part like she’s about to step in.
“Wow,” Alex responds, with a laugh of disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?” Grant raises his eyebrows, but Alex doesn’t back down, stepping closer, threatening even with powdered sugar still clinging to his shirt. “You don’t get to talk to her like that and think we’re gonna stand here and take it. Just because you’re a miserable prick doesn’t mean you get to bring all of us down with you.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Layla tries, caught between us.
Grant ignores her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.”
Alex smirks, defiant in the face of Grant’s condescending tone. “I know exactly what I’m talking about. And maybe you should be grateful that somebody’s telling you what a massive dick you are to your face for once.”
The air between them is electric, and people are definitely staring now, but this time it’s not me they’re staring at. Layla looks mortified, and I feel a pang of guilt.
“Alex—” I try, tentatively, but no one hears me.
“If you can’t handle being a decent person, maybe you’re the one who should’ve stayed home.”
Grant’s face is stone. Part of me wants to pull Alex away, but another part of me is incredibly grateful that after everything, he’s defending me. Finally, Grant exhales sharply. “You know what? Forget it.” He turns to Layla. “I’m going home.”
“Grant—” she starts, but he’s already walking away with long strides that have him disappearing into the crowd.
Alex looks at me then, the anger draining from his face, replaced by something apologetic. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene, but he was being a fucking asshole and—” I shake my head before he can finish.
“Don’t apologize. I know you were looking out for me.” His mouth twitches into the faintest smile, but I don’t let him downplay it, wrapping my arms around him, hugging him tight. “Thank you, Alex.”
He freezes for a second, typical teenage boy, but then he hugs me back.
We pull apart when his phone buzzes in his pocket. “I gotta go. My ride’s here.” I nod, trying not to show how much I wish he could stay. And we could find Nate. And everythingcould be good again.
