“Oh.” I rolled my lips between my teeth. “Why don’t you go see them?”
“Because I can’t,” she snapped, and my eyes widened at her tone. “Sorry. I just can’t go see them, okay?”
“Okay. Do you want to go inside? My mom’s cooking dinner. You can stay if you want to.”
She pulled out her phone to look at the time. “I can stay for a little while, but then I have to get back home. My mom can come pick me up, though; it’s fine.”
I nodded. Sierra had been really resistant to accepting rides after that first time she came over to the house last fall, despite offers from both me and my parents.
My dad had pulled me aside after we’d gotten home from dropping Sierra off.
“Do you know where your friend lives?” he asked. “She just moved to town, right?”
I shook my head. “Yeah, she just moved here, but she hasn’t mentioned where she lives. She rides the bus and gets on at the stop on Sparrow Lane, though. Why?”
“That house we dropped her off at last night? I don’t think she lives there.”
“Oh, huh. Yeah, I guess not.”
I’d asked her about it the next day at school, and she ignored the question. After that, she didn’t let my parents drive her home anymore.
We headed into the house, and I kicked off my boots by the door.
“Mom, we’re coming inside for a little bit! Sierra’s going to hang out!” I called out, even though I was sure she was just in the kitchen.
I popped around the corner, and, sure enough, she was getting dinner ready.
“Smells good, Mom.”
“Thank you, honey. Do you two have homework you need to get done? Sierra, dear, are you staying for dinner?”
Sierra shifted back and forth on her feet. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re more than welcome to, dear.” She flitted from one end of the kitchen to the other, chopping up vegetables and checking whatever she had on the stove.
“What are you making, Mom?” I asked, trying to peek over her shoulder.
“Chicken and dumplings.”
On my way back to Sierra, I stole a carrot from the counter. “Ooh, my favorite. Mom makes thebestchicken and dumplings, so you should definitely stay for dinner.”
Sierra shrugged. “I guess I can ask my mom and see.”
“Awesome! Hey, aren’t you warm? You’ve got a sweatshirt on still.” I tugged on the part of her sweatshirt sleeve covering her elbow, and the cuff hiked up a little ways, revealing dark splotches on her forearm. “Sierra…”
She pulled away, angrily tugging her sleeve back down.
My mom was still preoccupied with dinner, so I lowered my voice, pulling her aside into the hallway. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Her response was flat, devoid of emotion.
“Sierra.”
Her nostrils flared. “Nothing happened, Hayden, okay? Just leave it alone.”
“If you’re in trouble, my dad?—”
She put up a hand to stop me, annoyance flaring in her eyes. “Fine. I tripped down the stairs and bumped my arm, okay? Happy?”
