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“Do you guys even care that I’m here?”
It bursts out of me. The adoring couple freezes and turns around.
“What are you talking about?” Lindsay says, brows slashed with concern. “Of course I care.”
I shake my head quickly. “Whatever. It’s fine.”
“It’s obviously not fine. What’s going on? What are you talking about?
“I guess what I’m starting to realize is you’re not really here for me when things are hard. Even though I was there for you when you—” I break off because Lindsay’s eyes are the size of petri dishes and it’s clear her pregnancy scare is something Troy still doesn’t know about. It’s not my secret to tell.
“You’ve honestly given me no indication anything is weird between us. You hardly ever talk about Adina or about Huntington’s. How am I supposed to know it’s bothering you?”
“You could ask.”
“Did I not ask you how things are going three minutes ago?”
I twist my shoe into the gym floor. “No, you did. Forget I said anything.” Then I mutter: “Really, pat yourself on the back for awkwardly asking me how things are going one fucking time in the past several months.”
“What?” Lindsay steps closer to me, though with her height, she’s hardly intimidating. “I cannot believe you’re calling me out like this. In public.”
Troy coughs. “Should I, uh, go?”
“No,” Lindsay says, and she and I remain still, gazes locked, until a fourth voice breaks through.
“Everything okay?” It’s Zack, standing a couple feet away.
I step out of line, and Lindsay gestures for Troy to stay in line with her. That’s one thing she’s good at: leaving me alone.
“How much of that did you hear?” I ask Zack, embarrassed by my outburst. I don’t have outbursts. I’m the calm, collected twin.
He glances at Lindsay and Troy as though making sure they’re out of earshot. “Enough to know you said what’s on my mind a lot of the time.”
I pump my fist half-heartedly. “Bonus friend revolt.”
Zack cups my shoulder with one hand and gently steers me away from concessions. “What is that thing?”
“Oh.” I hold out my balloon “animal.” “I asked the clown to make me a DNA double helix.”
“Amazing,” he says, but he’s looking at me, not the balloon. “Have you made the rounds?”
“A few times. You can only toss so many rings onto bowling pins.”
He holds up a key ring, dangles it from one finger. “Then you won’t mind if we go somewhere else? I’ve got special after-hours art room privileges, and I want to show you what I’m working on.”
I can’t follow him out of the gym fast enough.
The art room has low ceilings and long gray tables and a kiln toward the back. Paintings and sketches and engravings hang from every wall space. I’ve haven’t been in here since Introduction to Drawing freshman year.
“This is my happy place,” Zack says, and tonight it’s mine, too. When he’s in a room with me, he completely fills the space, giving it a new kind of energy. His hair is spilling into his eyes, and I find myself wondering what it would feel like to touch. If it would be soft or coarse. If he’d like it if I ran my hands through it.
“I like it.”
A canvas board and paint palette wait at the table where Zack must have been working. Since all the chairs are stacked in the back of the room, I hop onto the table, my legs dangling off it.
Next to me, Zack leans a hip against the table. “We don’t have to talk about Lindsay and Troy.”
“I’d prefer not to.”
