“Looks like a lot has changed.”
“All I know is that we were like sisters, and then they moved and she turned on me. But I’m sure her family hated us. Juliet must have felt it.”
I look at my father’s face on the screen—fresh, young, and excited. He’s standing with his arm around his brother, and they’re both smiling. They look almost like twins in their blazers and button-downs, clipped haircuts, and matching dimples.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “This is so not your problem.”
Len laughs. “Are you always this neurotic?”
I squeeze one eye shut and look at him. “Probably.”
“Look.” Len arches around and glances at the clock. “We only have, like, fifteen minutes left of class, and since I know you’regoing to make me do this assignment anyway, do you maybe just want to do it after school?”
Len volunteering to spend time with me in a nonacademic environment? Shocking. “Um, sure. Any chance you could come over, though? It’s been a long day, and I kind of just want to get out of here.”
“No problem.”
I hike my bag onto the table next to the computer and pull out a pen. “Here. Let me give you my address so you can map it.”
I tear off a piece of notebook paper and am touching the pen down when Len covers my hand with his. His touch startles me. “It’s cool,” he says. “I remember.”
“You’ve never been over before,” I say. I don’t have parties, and the only people who ever really hang out at my house are the six of us. Sometimes Lauren or John, but I could count the number of times on one hand.
“Yeah, I have.” A look flashes across his face for a split second, but it’s gone before I have a chance to register what it is. “My mom forgot to pick me up from Famke’s one time. Your mom let me wait at your house. It’s not a big deal.”
“Oh.”
He looks down at his textbook. “You were always outside when my lesson finished.” He looks up and smiles. “Sorry about that, by the way. I was probably terrible back then.”
I shake my head. “You were great. Listening to you play was my favorite part of lessons.” I can feel my cheeks turning red. I have no idea why I just said that. Beyond the fact that it’s sorta true.
He doesn’t seem thrown off by it, though. He just looks at me and says clearly, “Thanks.”
The moment stretches, and it’s long enough for me to realize that neither one of us is speaking. “Should we get out of here?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He flicks the screen off, and my dad’s face disappears.
We gather up our stuff and duck out the double lab doors. Len starts doing an impression of Mrs. Barch directing the Belgian. It’s hilarious. He’s actually pretty funny, and I would never admit this to Charlie, but I’m starting to see what Olivia meant. About him being cute, I mean. Not just striking but kind of adorable. Yeah, his hair is sorta long and he’s kind of a slacker, but he’s got this confidence. Like he just doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.
“I need to talk to you.”
I hiccup back a laugh and see Rob there. He looks frazzled, haphazard, like he’s not sure what he’s doing himself. Ben is there too, and he looks apologetic.
I just stare at Rob.
These are the first words he’s spoken to me in weeks.
“Hey,” Len says to me, “I’m gonna head to English. See you after school?”
Rob frowns and looks at Len. “What are you guys doing?”
That familiar smirk creeps back onto Len’s face, and he shakes his head slowly and mumbles something under his breath.
“I said I need to talk to you,” Rob says to me. His jaw twitches slightly.
“Hey,” Ben says. He puts a hand on Rob’s shoulder. “We’re gonna be late.” Rob shakes him off, and Ben looks at me. It’s the same look I see him give Olivia when she’s detailing a shopping failure. Like he really cares, but he just isn’t sure how to help. The truth is, neither am I. This is foreign territory. In all our years of friendship I’ve never seen Rob really, truly angry. The Rob I knew was sweet and kind and totally nonconfrontational. That’s not who’s standing here. I guess Juliet has turned him against me too.
“Look,” Len says, “maybe you should go.” He offers the suggestion casually, like he’s asking Rob if he wants a soda.
