Page 33 of Smoke and Glitter

"No."

She stares at him while Dom calmly pushes the chair in once she sits.

I glance at Sam. "Do all of you avoid questions this way, or was there some kind of class?"

He pulls out the chair beside me. "Annual certification."

I sit, still smiling.

Sam pushes my chair in, then bends until his mouth is close to my ear.

"You look beautiful tonight."

The smile disappears for an entirely different reason.

His voice is low enough that nobody else at the table reacts. There is no joke attached to it and no little grin waiting for me to give him something clever back.

By the time I turn my head, Sam is already straightening.

The chair beside mine is still empty.

I expect him to sit there. His hand is even resting on the back of it.

Then Bex calls his name from farther down the table to ask him something about the drink tickets.

Sam turns toward her. He walks past the empty chair beside me, past the next two, and takes the open seat between Bex and Marisol.

Four seats away.

Summer arrives with Colt and drops into the chair Sam passed.

She follows my eyes down the table before she reaches for her napkin.

"Hi," she says.

I look at her. "Hi."

That's all she gives me, and I'm grateful.

Dinner gets underway around us. The room fills with teachers moving between tables, parents calling to their kids and Lucia making regular visits to report on everything from the raffle prizes to the quality of the cake frosting.

At the other end of our table, Sam falls into the rhythm he always does when there are people around him.

Bex finishes her drink while she's talking to Marisol, and Sam gets up for another one before she notices the glass is empty. A woman from the school board stops at his chair and tells him about a kiln that died halfway through firing twenty-two student projects. Sam shifts toward her and listens until she's finished, asking enough questions that she stays another few minutes. Later, when a chair ends up in the aisle behind Marisol, he moves it before anyone has to squeeze around it.

The board member touches his forearm when she finally leaves. Sam is already reaching for the dessert tray.

I notice anyway.

A few minutes later, Sam looks down the table and catches me watching him. His expression softens immediately, and I smile back because there isn't anything wrong with the way he's treating me.

That is the irritating part.

He isn't ignoring me. When the dessert trays start moving around, he takes the one closest to him and passes it down until it reaches me. Later he catches my eye while Summer is talking and silently mouths, You good?

I nod.

He goes back to his conversation.