“You’re welcome,” Luke said.
“Oh,sincerestapologies…” I started, but dropped off when I shifted to look at him. His legs were in the way, and I bit the inside of my cheek. I really liked being able to see his face. So before my conscience gave me the go-ahead, I found myself saying, “You know, you can stretch out if you want. It’s fine.”
Two seconds later, his legs were draped across my lap. I situated my MacBook on his shins and then tried to seemreallyinterested in my Twitter feed to disguise the fact that I was sneaking way too many peeks at him, to figure out if he was as on edge as I was. Because he didn’t look it; he had his TV-watching face on: stone-cold serious, with his arms folded over his chest. But each and every time I glanced up, his eyes were a little droopier. “Hey, do you mind if I take a nap?” he asked when the credits got going.
I looked to see his eyes already shut; he was going to sleep with or without my permission. He hadn’t even taken his glasses off. I smiled, and said, “Mi casa es su casa.”
“That accent was terrible.”
I laughed. “I take French.”
“Je le sais.” (I know that.)
“You speak French?” I asked, curious since Luke was in Señor Cortez’s Spanish class.
“Un peu.” (A bit.)
“Comment?” (How?)
“Mon père.” (My dad.)
“Your dad sounds pretty cool,” I said, then sort of winced, remembering Luke’s dad died when Luke was only twelve. (“Colon cancer,” he’d told us in this matter-of-fact, but still thoughtful voice. “It was extremely aggressive.”)
But Luke nodded, eyes still closed. “He was. He was an expat growing up, lived all over the world for my grandfather’s job. He metma mèrein Tokyo.” He yawned. “But Paris was his favorite.”
Another yawn, and then he nestled deeper into the couch.
I got the message. “Fais de beaux rêves.” (Sweet dreams.)
“Merci,” he whispered, and it didn’t take long for his breathing to slow. I watched him for a few beats, and then went back to my computer—but not before putting my hand on his knee.
When he didn’t wake up, I left it there.
Luke slept like a rock. Totally and completely knocked out. There was no movement when a bunch of guys started playing broomball in the hall, and he didn’t even hear Sage’s arrival. I did, though, her voice loud and clear before she swept into the room: “No, Dhiraj, Sage isn’t really here! I’m a ghost!” Girls weren’t allowed upstairs, but Sage ignored that rule most of the time. I was sitting at my desk by the time the door opened. “Have you heard from Luke?” she asked, setting the Twister box on the trunk before noticing him. “Oh my gosh,” she breathed. “How long has he been like this?”
“About a half hour,” I said.
Sage knelt down and snapped a picture with her phone. “Nina’s going to die.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on, she has to know it’s never going to happen.”
“It isn’t?” Sage looked at me. “Did he say something to you?”
“No.”
She shrugged. “Then I wouldn’t be so sure.”
Bullshit, I thought. Because again, I’d known Sage for seventeen years. Iknewher. So I wasn’t buying the pleasantanything is possible!expression on her face. I think she had the same gut feeling I did, that Nina would be smart to find crush #11, because crush #10 wasn’t ever going to pan out. Nothing was said, though; Sage had already moved on.
“Luke.” She gently shook him. “Time to wake up.”
“Mmm,” I heard him mumble. “Pass.”
Sage laughed. “Come on. It’s almost time to rumble in the jungle!” That was the dance theme that had won out for tonight: “Rumble in the Jungle.” It had been my suggestion, and President Jennie had kicked Nick out of the meeting because he’d been laughing so hard. I couldn’t understand why—it was only a mere coincidence that “Rumble in the Jungle” had been the theme of our fifth birthday party.
Luke sat up and took off his glasses so he could rub his eyes. He looked disoriented, like he could’ve slept until morning. “What’s tonight’s getup?”
“Well, I’m going as a tiger.” Sage gestured to her outfit: black Converse and shorts with a cropped orange shirt. She even had a pair of tiger ears on her head and a tail dangling from her back belt loop. I honestly had no idea where she found this stuff. Whatever the theme, she never had any trouble pulling an outfit together. Wehadn’t agreed on Danny and Sandy until the night before last year’s “Dynamic Duos” spirit day, and I sure as hell hadn’t expected her to say, “Oh, yes! I have this black cat suit that’ll be perfect!”
