“Nah. Dad’s been working late and Mom goes over to Grandma’s house until after dinner.”
The Whitakers used to eat dinner together every night around the same sturdy, gouged-up kitchen table.
“Okay, I’ll come, then.”
“Cool. I wouldn’t want to see my parents either, if I were you.”
“I don’t know what to say to them.”
“I don’t say anything. Seems to be effective.” He hands my phone back and turns his attention to his shoes, a spotless pair of blue-and-white Air Jordans. He could be mistaken for a sneakerhead if a person didn’t know these are the one nice pair he owns, and they’re knockoffs. “What about your mom?” he asks.
“Works late too. But that’s normal.” I lean back and turn my face toward the sun, trying to soak some of it up before it disappearsbehind another cloud. I’m so tired of the cold. “She keeps trying to get me to talk about things. She put me in therapy.”
“Do you like it?”
I shrug. “I’d rather be doing almost anything else.”
He seems disappointed by this answer. “Makes sense.”
“You should try it if you think you need it, though.”
He shakes his head. “Mom and Dad would want me to go to a church counselor.”
“I’ll give you the info for mine. She hasn’t talked about anything religious.”
“That’d be cool. Thanks.”
“Hey,” I say, keeping my voice light, “the other day at the church, when you saidwe—”
The courtyard doors open, cutting me off. A bunch of girls and boys on the track team come through with their lunch trays.
“Hey, Evie!” Haley is in front, smiling and waving. “Want to sit with—” She trails off as Ash leans forward to look past me, revealing himself. “Oh, sorry, I thought you were alone.”
I don’t know how she didn’t see Ash; he’s bigger than me, and hunkered on this stone wall like a big dark bird. But he does tend to blend in. He slides off the wall and grabs his backpack.
“It’s cool,” he says. “I’ll see you later, Evie.”
“You could stay,” I say.
His gaze cuts toward Haley and the others, all loud and bright and cheerful, then back to me. “I’m good. But thanks.”
He leaves. Haley stands there, waiting for me, looking abashed.
“I didn’t know you were friends with Ash,” she says when I get up and join her. We find seats at the bench with the others. Kylie is there, and she still won’t look at me. Aiden Marx is too, and he looks at metoomuch, like he’s waiting for me to do something.
“It’s a recent development,” I say.
“Are you going out?” asks Bethany. “Is he the reason you’ve been missing practice?”
“We’re not going out,” I reply, a little too fast. “I’ve been skipping practice.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Haley asks.
“Fine.”
A few of them exchange looks. I don’t care what reasons they make up.
“Ash is weird now,” says Aiden, unable to keep his mouth shut, or to say anything without a stupid smile on his face. “Guy used to be cool, then he went full Two-Face.”
