Toby never had to worry about his grades, because no teacher would let a star of the football team fail, plus every girl in the school was willing to do his homework if he just flexed his arms or flashed a smile. The tool already had everything—a nice house, a cool Mustang his dad had given him, the best-looking girl in school—but that wasn’t enough. Toby wanted more and more. He figured he deserved everything and didn’t have to do anything for it.
Must be nice.
Unable to deal with any more bad feelings, Jonathan turned away from the window.
She sat on a bench in front of the ice-cream parlor. A neon sugar cone glowed above her head, casting her face in shadow. But even with the veil of darkness covering her features, Jonathan recognized Kirsty Sabine.
She wore a long beige trench coat and distressed jeans, nearly white on the thighs. Her head was lowered, chin on her chest, so that her hair draped down either side of her face like frayed curtains.
Had she been there the whole time? Had he somehow missed her when he walked by the shop?
The chill on his neck fanned out over his shoulder blades, and he began to seriously shake. A gust of wind raced down the mall, chasing the sensation, adding to it.
“I couldn’t go in either,” Kirsty said, not raising her head. She sat thirty feet away, and her voice came to him like a whisper.
A bit creeped out, Jonathan smiled nervously and tried to think of an excuse for why he didn’t go into the coffee shop. He didn’t want to sound totally low rent by saying something like, “It’s too expensive,” but he also didn’t want to admit his cowardice over entering territory already claimed by Toby Skabich.
“I was just seeing if some friends were inside,” he said.
Kirsty nodded her head, a slow movement that lifted her chin only an inch from her chest before again resting against it.
“I looked in too,” she said. “I didn’t really like anyone I saw.”
“Yeah,” Jonathan said. Even though he’d seen Emma, he knew what Kirsty meant.
Kirsty stood, the shadow on her face growing longer as her slight body eclipsed the purple tubes of the neon ice-cream cone. Her beige coat fell neatly on either side of her body, and she brushed the fabric with her hands, smoothing it further. She took a step toward Jonathan and paused. Kirsty looked over her shoulder, into the ice-cream shop, then down the long walk beside it.
Jonathan stepped forward to cover the distance between them.
“Hey,” he said, as if they’d just walked into each other a second ago.
“Hi,” Kirsty said, smiling and quickly looking away.
Something about her face seemed different tonight, Jonathan thought. Maybe it was the light or lack of it, but her features seemed more finished, seemed almost pretty, something he never would have thought when he saw her in daylight.
“What’s up?” he asked, the chill now centered in his stomach. He wasn’t used to talking to girls, and it had to be totally obvious to Kirsty. Knowing this only made him more nervous.
“Just out for a walk.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“My mom’s on one of her let’s-spend-every-minute-together kicks,” Kirsty said. “I couldn’t deal, so I bailed.”
Jonathan had no idea what it must be like to have a parent insist on spending time with him, but he laughed and nodded his head. “Parents are a pain.”
“Total water torture,” Kirsty replied. “Every word another drop on my forehead.”
They stood quietly for a moment. Jonathan didn’t know what else to say to the girl. He was full-on nervous, and the chilled anxiety in his stomach was making him uncomfortable. Maybe he should just say good-bye.
“It’s strange so many people are out,” Kirsty said.
“Strange?” he asked, grateful she’d broken the silence.
“After Mr. Weaver. I figured most people would stay home for a while.”
“I didn’t even think about that. You don’t seem too worried. I mean, you’re out.”
“I shouldn’t be,” she said. “But since Dad left, Mom’s been really needy. I figured once we moved, she’d lighten up, but that didn’t really happen.”
“Sorry to hear about your dad,” Jonathan said. The words felt awkward on his tongue. He didn’t know Kirsty at all, so his condolence felt insincere. Fortunately she didn’t seem to notice.
“Thanks,” Kirsty said. “That’s nice of you.”
“When did he leave?”
“About a year ago. A lot of drama.”
“That blows. Do you still see him?”
Kirsty didn’t answer immediately. She looked up at the ceiling covering the walkway, stared at it as if searching for the answer there. “Not much,” she said, finally. “Like I said, a lot of drama.”
Another uncomfortable silence fell over them. Jonathan was about to say “that blows” again, but knew it would sound lame. Instead, he decided to change the subject because it didn’t seem like either of them wanted to discuss Kirsty’s father any more.
“How do you like it here?” he asked.
Kirsty’s response surprised him because she didn’t answer his question. Instead, she said, “Do you want to walk? I’m getting kind of cold just standing here.”
“I guess,” Jonathan said. “Where do you want to go?”
“Would you mind walking me home?” Kirsty said. “It’s not far.”
“Sure,” Jonathan said. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
Kirsty lived in the Briar Gate development, which was half a mile down Horace Road, the street running parallel to Crossroads Boulevard on the other side of the mall. As they walked, Jonathan found himself unable to relax around Kirsty. Yeah, she was nice, and she was even kind of interesting, but she also seemed distant, sort of cold. Jonathan understood. It wasn’t exactly like he was Mr. Personality tonight either. They were simply two school outcasts who bumped into each other and decided to take a walk.
“So, do you miss your friends?”
“Didn’t really have friends,” Kirsty said. “My dad scared people off. He’d get up in their faces and drill them like an army sergeant. He was totally paranoid. It freaked people out. I learned pretty young to keep other kids away from the house. And since he was really strict, I didn’t get to spend much time away from home, except to go to school and…”
“And?” Jonathan asked.
“Church,” Kirsty whispered, as if embarrassed. “My folks were both hyper about the church back in Spokane. My mom has totally lightened up about it now, but…Ugh! It sucked. What about you?”
“We don’t go to church,” he said. In fact, he’d probably only been in a church five or six times in his entire life. He attended two Sunday-school classes when he was like six years old, and after that it was just weddings.
“What about friends? I don’t see you hanging out with anyone at school.”
“My best friend…” Only friend. “…goes to Melling.” And he thinks you’re hot, Jonathan added to himself.
Jeez, what would David say if he found out he was walking Kirsty home? David had played it totally cool at the bookstore, like he was just goofing about Kirsty, but what if he really liked her? Would he be pissed or something?
“Was he the guy I saw you with on Saturday?” Kirsty asked.
“I didn’t think you even noticed us. But yeah, that’s David.”
“Have you guys been friends a long time?”
“About three years,” Jonathan said. “This is the longest my family has lived anywhere, so it seems like a long time, but I guess it’s not.”