"Yeah? So?"
"So the fact that he's allowing you to meet his brother—PAYING you to—is a HUGE deal."
"He wants to help him pass English. That's all this is about."
"Maybe, but still. Letting you go to his house?" Her eyes widen. "That's so not Dean. The guy's a closed book. He doesn't let anyone in, not even his football friends, except maybe Danny. I'm sure Danny's been to Dean's house but I don't know anyone else who has."
"Why doesn't he have people over? Is there something wrong with his house?"
"Who knows? I think he just doesn't want people finding out more about him. Like how he lives or what his brother's like. I'm telling you, the guy keeps everything private. I didn't even know he had a brother until last year when his brother showed up at a football game."
"What'd he look like?"
"Blond hair. Skinny. He doesn't look at all like Dean."
"But they're really brothers? He's not like a stepbrother?"
"I don't think so."
The door swings open. "Am I interrupting something?"
It's one of the teachers, but not one I know.
"We were just going over our homework," Eve says, smiling at the guy. "We can go."
The teacher heads to his desk as we leave.
"You lied," I say to Eve as we go down the hall.
"But he believed me. I'm a way better liar than you."
The bell rings and we head in opposite directions to our classes.
After school, I look for Dean on the bus, then remember he has football practice. I heard him talking about it with some guy when they were by my locker. I wonder why he didn't have it yesterday.
My phone rings. It's Chad. He never called last night but sent me a text saying he was going out to dinner with his parents.
"Hey," I say, answering the call.
"Can you talk?"
"Not really. I'm on the bus. Can I call you when I get home?"
"I won't be here. I have a tennis lesson. I started up again. Did I tell you that?"
"I don't think so. What about your elbow?"
"It's better. I'm going to try out for the team this year."
Chad was on the tennis team freshman year but hurt his elbow and couldn't play after that. He switched to golf, and now he's obsessed with it. He golfs constantly. If he starts playing tennis too, I'll never see him.
"How was dinner last night?" I ask.
"Good. We went to the club. Saw five people from school."
"Small world."
"Around here it is." He pauses. "Tamara's back."
