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Not really. Mom’s gotta work Friday and Saturday, so I have to hang with my sister.
What does she like to do?
I grinned. It was cute of him to ask.
Really? You want to talk about my four-year-old sister’s hobbies? Maybe you should trade places with me and babysit her sometime.I added a wink emoji.
Maybe I should. She might think I’m funner than you.
Doubtful. I’m the best older brother.
Yeah, you probably are.
I sighed dreamily as we texted back and forth a while longer.
Okay, gotta sleep. Night, Henners.
Night, Watermelon Sugar High.
Um, what? Isn’t that a Harry Styles song?
That’s how you’re listed in my phone. Because of your obsession with those Jolly Ranchers.
OMG! You’re ridiculous.
Am I? How am I listed in your cell?
Just H. You know, like a grown-up. But now I’m going to think of something new for you.
LOL! Looking forward to hearing what you come up with. Hey, how about Quarterback God?
So humble.
I stared at the ceiling, unable to think of anything. But now I had an earworm from that Harry Styles song.
“Thanks a lot,” I fake-grumbled as I fluffed my pillow and went to bed.
24
HENRY
It was Friday night,a football bye week, and I was restless. Spencer had gone home for the weekend, and I was doing the same tomorrow but decided to stay put tonight. I could’ve hung out with Flash and Bones, who talked up a game of poker in the common room, but I wasn’t feeling up to it.
I drove to the gas station to fill up, then stepped inside in search of a candy bar or the saltwater taffy from Atlantic City that was sold everywhere in the state. I’d enjoyed them as a kid, and for some reason, I was in reminiscing mode right then. Which was obviously why, when I saw the package of Jolly Ranchers, I grabbed them along with a Snickers and went to the counter to pay.
Back in my car, it practically drove itself to Lakeview Trailer Park. There was a visitors’ lot, if you could even call the pebbled dirt area that, but since I didn’t know where the hell I was going, I figured it was better on foot.
All the trailers looked similarly built but differed in size, color, and decorations. Some had wind chimes and lawn furniture, while others were completely barren, making me wonder who might be inside them and what their story was.
I pushed the thought out of my mind that Lark would be pissed I’d shown up here, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from wanting to find him. When I spotted a slew of birdhouses hanging outside one of the trailers, I headed toward it, wondering if that might be where he lived. Star had mentioned something about their decorations at Parents’ Day.
A guy around my age was standing outside a trailer, watching me warily. “You look lost. Can I help you?”
“Oh, um…” Was I really that obvious? “Do you know where Lark Levitt lives?”
“Depends who’s asking,” he replied, and I could hear the protectiveness in his tone.
Maybe they all looked out for each other. Sort of like a neighborhood watch in other communities. Nothing wrong with that. Comforting, really.
