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She wasn’t my friend - I didn’t have friends. Not even Tommy Pecker from the Albright farm was my friend. But I had Gemma - she was all that mattered. The woman’s gaze glanced back at my mother’s sleeping figure on the porch. “She does that often, huh?”
I gritted my jaw. I didn’t like people looking at mama. She was sick - she wasn’t well, and I was tired of the way people looked at her - at us, along with all thedamnwhispering. I simply shrugged. We went back to the silence and the stars. It was better that way.
Until my stomach growled.
It did that. Often.
“You hungry?” Her mouth quirked into a smile. Her teeth were sopainstakinglywhite it only served to remind me of the brown stains on mama’s teeth. Gemma and I didn’t have stains. I made sure we brushed our teeth twice a day.
I glared at her, still refusing to respond.
“My name’s Sarah.” She went on chattering, introducing herself as if her name somehow mattered to me. It didn’t. She didn’t belong here - one look at her clothing and shiny hair told me all I needed to know.
I stared forward, annoyed that she was still speaking. Unlike the stars - they were silent. I liked the quiet. My stomach growled again, and, this time, we both ignored it.
“What’s your name?”
The question hung in the air, stretching between us, broken only by theincessantgrumbling of my stomach. But I didn’t want to eat - not by myself. I was saving the bread for tomorrow when Gemma and I could eat together.
“How old are you?”
Another question, but, this time, I answered - only on account of the fact that she didn’t say anything about my grumbling stomach. That was nice of her, and mama always said that you should reward those who are nice to you.
“Ten. I’ll be eleven in August.”
The woman smiled at me. It was a pretty smile - a clean smile, and something about her happiness somehow made me happy. Was ten the right answer? A good number?
I discreetly puffed out my chest and straightened my shoulders. Just a few more years, and I would be a man.
“And does this ten-year-old have a name?” She smiled again, her tone teasing. I’d already answered her once - might as well do it again.
“Cooper.” My voice sounded gruff. “Cooper O’Grady, ma’am.” I tacked on the ‘ma’am’, remembering my manners.
“Cooper is a good name.” She noddedsolemnlyas if my name truly meant something. I liked her, so I nodded in agreement.
“When last did you eat, Cooper O’Grady?”
“This morning.” I shrugged as if my grumbling stomach wasinconsequential.
“That’s a long time for a growing boy to go without food.” Once more, the woman nodded seriously, and, this time, I could offer nothing in my defense - because I was hungry.
“You want to come with me? I’ll take you to the diner in town to get some dinner and bring you back?”
I eyed her warily. People didn’t just buy us dinner - it simply wasn’t done. As if seeing my hesitation, Sarah spoke again. “I’ll bring you straight back once you’ve eaten.”
Food.
Food from a diner.
That meant warm food. Cooked food.
For me and Gemma.
I thought about it - thought about the way Gemma had clutched her stomach in hunger earlier, and when she asked for more bread, I had told her no. Because we needed to keep some for tomorrow.
“Can I bring my sister?”
Sarah weighed my question carefully before replying. “How old is she?”
