Wedged between Lewis, who’s gnawing on his pancake, and Adam, who’s been on the phone with his mother for twenty-five minutes straight, I stare at the bottle of orange juice.
I’ve been in a terrible mood since I woke up, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. It’s just one of those mornings.
Lewis swallows way too loudly, then points his knife at me.
“Sure you don’t wanna come to Adam’s? There’ll be cute girls and hamburgers. I plan on helping him unleash his inner man-beast.”
Those two grew up together. Same hometown. Every now and then, they crash at Adam’s mom’s place for the weekend—Lewis is like a second son to her, he even calls her Mom. I’ve joined them for barbecues and parties and stuff before, but this weekend I plan on staying put.
“Not feeling it, sorry.”
Lewis stares at me like I’ve grown a second head, or something. He’s my basketball buddy, my friend, and my roomie, all in one—he definitely knows when something’s up.
“Something has been up with you since school started, Don.” He squints at me. “At first, I thought it had something to do with your dad, but now I’m not so sure.” He waves a hand in front of my face. “Isaid the magic words—‘cute girls’ and ‘hamburgers.’ This should be a no-brainer, dude.”
I fiddle with the orange juice cap, staring down at the carton for inspiration.
“We’re still friends, right?” he asks in a baby voice.
“You’re my best friend ever!” I squeak back. “It’s just that seeing my dad floored like that kinda messed with my head over the summer.” I smile. “But trust me, bro—it’s all good.”
I should honestly be ashamed for using what happened to my dad like that.
He scours my face and starts chowing down on his pancakes again, chewing each mouthful impossibly slowly.
“Well, I’m here if you need me.”
“I know.”
“Just ask.”
Guilt is stabbing at my chest. I’ve always been totally transparent with Lewis, and he’s done absolutely nothing to make me think I can’t trust him. And yet… This whole thing with Amelia has touched a nerve. It’s kind of cracked open this piece of me I’m not ready to show the world.
The only person I can trust with it is Carrie—she’s just got this way of making me feel like none of it is that big of a deal.
Carrie. My mind wanders back to last night, and a tingle shoots through my belly, coursing all the way up to my fingertips. I reach for my phone and start stabbing out a message.
DONOVAN:Hey, you around?
Say the word, and I’m there.
I tap my foot as I stare at the screen, waiting. The three little dots spring into action, and my knee bounces up and down uncontrollably.
CARRIE:Nope. Cincinnati!
“Fuck!”
Two pairs of eyes swivel to look at me.
“What’s up?” Adam asks.
I wave him away.
DONOVAN:Oh, cool. You there all weekend?
CARRIE:Pretty much.
I fire off another message, asking what she’s doing there, but just before I hit send, I hesitate. It’s none of my business, after all. I weigh my options.Fuck it.
