“Yeah,” Ryan said, trying not to be offended by the blatant surprise in her voice. “Of course.”
The thing he had somehow not anticipated about this recital was that it was, in fact,giganticallydull. The first few performers were little kids screeching their way through vaguely recognizable holiday tunes, but pretty soon they’d moved on to long, tedious classical numbers he’d never heard before. Ryan sighed. He thought about the fight at the ice center this afternoon, how fast the whole thing had unraveled. He thought about Chelsea Rosen’s crooked smile. Heglanced over at Gabby, but she was listening raptly, her hands folded primly in her lap like a nun at church.
Ryan shifted his weight, the old wooden floor creaking under his rickety chair. His head was killing him now; it felt like somebody was standing behind him squeezing his temples like an accordion. He felt exhausted, too, and the sleepy-time music combined with how hot and dry it was in here wasn’t helping things any. He stifled a yawn in the sleeve of his coat and Gabby glanced at him out of the corner of her eye; when he did it again a minute later, she scowled. If he passed out she was going to murder him.
Sorry, he mouthed, smiling guiltily. He dug his phone out of his pocket and opened a tic-tac-toe app, then pulled up a new game and nudged Gabby, showing her the screen as a peace offering. She rolled her eyes at him.
“Can you stop?” she whispered. “You’re being an ass.”
That took him by surprise. There was no way he bought for a second that she was actually interested in this stuff—or at least, she hadn’t been back when they were hanging out all the time. Maybe that was different since Shay, too. Still, nobody could even see them. He shoved his phone back into his pocket, rubbing irritably at his aching head.
Gabby frowned at that, looking at him closely.Are you okay?she mouthed.
“Yeah,” Ryan whispered back, “just a headache.”
Gabby’s whole body straightened up, alert. “Aheadache?”
“It’s nothing,” he whispered; then, before he could thinkbetter of it: “There was kind of a dustup at the game today.”
“Adustup?” Gabby’s eyes were wide. The woman in front of them turned around and shot them a dirty look. “Like a fight? Did you get hit?”
“Just a little,” Ryan told her. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Are you serious?” Gabby hissed. “After what happened last year? How can you say it’s not a big deal?”
“Because it’s my head,” he told her, sounding more irritated than he meant to. “So I feel like I’d know, yeah?”
Gabby ignored him. “I don’t even know how you’re still playing,” she whispered. “Do you not remember the doctor telling you getting hit again could be an actual catastrophe? Like, she literally used the wordcatastrophe. Did you forget that part?”
“Can you leave it?” Ryan blew a breath out, irritated both at her and at himself for not keeping his mouth shut. “I don’t exactly have a choice.”
Gabby’s eyes narrowed. “What doesthatmean?”
Ryan shrugged. He hadn’t said anything to Gabby about the conversation he’d had with his mom the day before in the kitchen. Best friends or not, there were limits to what he could tell her. Money had always been easy for her family; she and her sisters and Shay were all heading off to private colleges to study things like English literature that had no practical application in the world, and everything would work out just peachy for them. Meanwhile, if Ryan couldn’t swing this fucking scholarship, he’d be lucky if he wound upworking at Walter’s for the rest of his life, still selling the last of the vegan hot dogs when he was old and gray.
“Huh?” Gabby was still looking at him. “Ryan. What does that mean, you don’t have a choice?”
This time the woman turned around and actually shushed them, an exaggeratedshhhlike a librarian in a Saturday-morning cartoon. Ryan almost laughed, but Gabby lookedmortified, whipping around to face forward blankly, her cheeks going a bright screaming pink.
Ryan sat there for another moment, sulking. He was tired; it had been a mistake to tag along to this thing, obviously. Maybe he was exactly the kind of dumb, uncultured person Shay and Gabby thought he was. Maybe it was useless to try to be anything else.
“I’m going to go,” he whispered finally, touching Gabby on the shoulder to get her attention since she was still staring straight ahead like a kindergartner who’d been scolded by her teacher. “You can get a ride home, right?”
“Seriously?” Gabby made a face. “You’releaving?”
He looked at her ominously. “My head hurts, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” He got up to go as the crowd applauded; to his surprise, Gabby followed him right up the aisle.
“Did you get another concussion?” she asked once they were outside on the huge, sagging wraparound porch; the front yard was soggy-looking, speckled with patches of dirty snow. “Have you been walking around since this afternoonwith another concussion and you just, like, didn’t mention it?”
In fact he was fairly sure that was exactly what had happened, but he didn’t want to tell that to Gabby. He didn’t actually intend to tell anyone. “I didn’t know I had to give you a report on my health every time I saw you,” he said instead.
Gabby scowled. “I’m not a brain doctor, Ryan, but I kind of think three concussions in three years is a big deal. Don’t you know all that stuff about professional football players, like, losing their minds and—”
“I’m not a professional football player, Gabby, Jesus. Can you stop?”
“You stop!” Gabby frowned. The two of them faced off for a moment, unyielding; finally, Gabby sighed. “I need to go back in there,” she said. “I don’t want to miss Shay. Will you text me when you’re home safe, at least? So I know you didn’t die?”
Ryan rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself. “Why are you so interested in me all of a sudden?”
