“Of course. It was my idea.”
“I’m glad.” That’s all he says, but there’s more trembling on the tip of his tongue. He swallows it as I pack up my things and hurry toward the door.
“Sage.” It’s the science teacher, who I never call Tom.
“Yes, sir?”
“I just wanted to tell you I’ve noticed an improvement in your participation in the experiments. Your grade will reflect the additional effort.”
I smile at him. “Thanks.”
“Carry on.”
To my surprise, Shane is already waiting for me outside chemistry. That’s … unprecedented. He must’ve persuaded his teacher to let him out a few minutes early; that’s some impressive smooth talking. God, I hope I’m not beaming the way I feel.
“You can’t continue feeding me every day,” he says.
Wow, not what I’m expecting.
He goes on, “I don’t want you to see me as a stray dog.”
“I don’t!”
“Well, you’re always feeding me. It’s nice, but … things will pick up. Dad’s paying on the hospital bills, and I’m looking for work to help with my daily living expenses.”
“Maybe I can help you find something.”
A frown knits his brows together. “Don’t worry about it, I can handle my own business.”
“But—”
“You can be annoyingly persistent, you know that?” Yeah, he’s aggravated.
I can’t just drop it, though. Seeing Shane now reminds me of when things were the worst for me. My skin itches over at the idea of offering the same indifference I got.
“I’ve kind of been there,” I explain quietly. “I wasn’t old enough to work, but it would’ve been nice if somebody … cared.”
Shane sighs, but there’s a faint softening to his impatience. “Fine.”
“Is there any kind of work you won’t do?” Relief brightens my voice.
He shakes his head. “I can’t afford to be picky. I’d like to buy some groceries.”
“Don’t you get lonely out there?” I ask.
The pause tells me he’s thinking about his answer as we walk. Finally he says, “I’ve been alone a long time. Lately I just have time to notice.”
I guess he means his mom wasn’t much company toward the end and he was run ragged taking care of her. He doesn’t seem to be angry, not like I was. Or maybe he burned it out back in Michigan City when he was staying with his mom’s friend. I ponder whether this guy was her boyfriend, if he loved her after her husband left. It would take a lot of courage, I decide, to fall for someone you know will leave you, sooner rather than later.
He adds, “That’s why I was in the library the other night. I wanted to be near people. It’s really quiet out in the country at night. And, yeah…” His voice drops. “Lonely.”
That feels like big admission. Warmth swells in my chest over the fact that he trusted me with it. As I recall, he was hiding in an upstairs conference room for privacy, but I understand what he’s saying. It’s different knowing folks are nearby, even if they’re not in the room with you. That trailer in the middle of nowhere must be super-creepy at night. And that’s the difference between an empty home and one that houses somebody who loves you.
I nod. “Do you know where we’re going?”
“Not exactly.”
“You can come with me.” Then I realize I have the same problem that I had getting a frap with Lila the other day. I have a bike; Shane does not. So I make the ultimate sacrifice. “Do you know how to ride?”
“A bike?” He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Well, yeah.”
“Sweet. Then we can double up. We’re going to a vacant lot downtown, not too far. I hope you have good balance.”
“I don’t trip over my own feet. Generally.”
“How do you get to school?” I ask.
“Bus, usually. But if I stick around to do something in town and miss it, then I walk.”
“That must take forever,” I observe.
“It’s not so bad.”