I jumped.
Brooks jerked around.
It was Brooks’s mom, and she had her phone out. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked like someone who had been crying but was trying really hard to pretend she wasn’t.
“I had to track your location. Why aren’t you answering your phone?” She asked Brooks.
He shrugged, but didn’t say anything.
I’d met his mom—she told me to call her Evelyn. I had instantly liked her. Now she glanced at me and seemed uncomfortable that I was there.
“Brooks—” she tried again.
Brooks just looked up at her, his face expressionless.
Evelyn sucked in a deep breath and adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “First of all, please answer your phone in the future, all right?”
Wow. If I had been in Brooks’s shoes and didn’t answer my parents’ call, Dad would’ve told me I could pay for my own phone if I wasn’t going to use it. Evelyn was almost . . .politeto her son. Was that normal? I mean, I was used to parents who were pretty amazing butdefinitelyparents. As in the, you’d-better-listen-to-them kind of parents. Brooks’s parents were more—well, Dad would probably call it “progressive parenting” or something like that.
“I—umm,” another glance from Evelyn to me.
I guess I couldn’t blame her. I was actually paying attention to her as opposed to Brooks who had turned his head to look back out the coffee shop window.
“I’m going out of town for a bit, honey.” Evelyn’s announcement had no impact on Brooks. “I—I’m going to head home—I mean—to Minnesota. I wanted to see your grandma and grandpa.”
“K.” Brooks said. He took a sip of his coffee and glanced at Evelyn.
She clutched her purse against her like it was a shield. “I left food in the fridge. Your father will be home in the evenings like always, around six. But you can eat suppers earlier if you need.”
Awkward silence.
I had to say something. “I hope you have a good trip! When will you be back?” I shouldn’t have asked.
Evelyn’s face drooped. “I don’t know.” Her voice was watery. Her eyes filled with tears. She sniffed. “Okay. Well, I’ll call you when I get there.”
“K.” Brooks said again.
“I love you, buddy,” Evelyn reached out and squeezed his arm.
I think she probably would have preferred a hug. I know it would’ve mademefeel better to see them hug. The whole scene was painful. Something had happened, and it was obviously not good.
Evelyn hesitated, then turned and left the coffeeshop.
I leaned against the table, staring at Brooks. “You’re not going to give your mom a hug?” I asked.
Brooks flicked his finger against his paper coffee cup. He didn’t answer.
“Are you okay?” I was at a total loss as to how to help him. “Did—Did something happen?”
Brooks met my eyes.
I’d watched a reel once of a beat-up puppy someone had found behind a dumpster. Sad music had played. Then it showed them rescuing it. Loving on it. A few days later in the next clip, the puppy was flea-free, playful, and happy.
Brooks had the look of the puppy behind a dumpster.
I wanted to rescue him all of a sudden, and for the moment, nothing about our fake dating stuff even seemed to matter.
“What happened, Brooks?” I asked, hopefully in a caring sort of way and not one that came across as prying.
