“Stunned” was an okay adjective but incomplete for the way he felt. Ben brought his hand to his mouth. When people discovered his situation, they never knew what to say. It was strange to be on the other side. He stuttered out, “When?”
“Two and a half years ago.” Ro wiped her eyes again. “June sixteenth.” When he continued to stare at her, she said, “I know. Effectively, we lost our sisters who were the same age at the same time.”
“How . . . do you know? The date, I mean? My sister’s date.” He knew he was rambling. “Not your sister. I mean, you know your sister’s date.”
“I looked up the case as soon as Shannon told me about you.” She dried her eyes again on her shirt. “It was like someone socked me in the stomach. I don’t think I heard too much else after that.”
Neither one spoke for several seconds. Then Ben said, “How’d she pass? Not that it matters. I mean . . . forget it. You don’t have to talk about it.”
“She had cancer. Osteogenic sarcoma. It’s a bone disease. I’m not saying that it was as horrible as what happened to your sister . . . well, it was pretty horrible, but in a different way. It wasn’t as shocking, maybe. Anyway, the end result was the same.”
“Oh please, let’s not compare misery. I certainly don’t have a monopoly on grief.”
“No, you don’t.” She was dry-eyed now. “I shouldn’t have laid it on you like that. Sometimes I have no filter . . . like all the time.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you told me.”
“I’m not glad. It makes you look at me differently. You know what I’m saying.”
“I do, but I won’t. I mean, I won’t pity you.” A beat. “Unless you want me to pity you.”
“Don’t be stupid.” She exhaled. “You can’t tell anyone.” A beat. “Really. Promise?”
“It’s not a problem, Ro. I don’t talk to anyone.”
“You have a sister and parents. If anyone found out, my mother would kill me. She handles the whole thing by blanking it out. Of course, you can’t ignore anything so monumental. She was this close to a breakdown.” Ro pinched off an inch with her thumb and forefinger. “My father found a yearlong job here as a lawyer with the government just to get her away from her old life. He offered to let me stay back home with my best friend, but I couldn’t leave my brother alone to deal with their shit.”
“I totally get it.”
“I know you do. That’s why you reacted like you did Friday night. And that’s why I didn’t say anything. I do have a point to all this drama. After my sister died, my mom was obsessed with my health. Understandable, but it didn’t make her any easier to live with. Vicks, every time I had an ache or a pain or even an itch or a twitch—anything—Mom whisked me off to the doctors. She was convinced I had cancer too. I was X-rayed so much I probably glow in the dark. Finally, the doctors told her she was doing way more harm than good. But she couldn’t stop herself. That’s when my dad knew we had to leave. He packed us all up and moved us to this hick town . . . no offense.”
“It’s not a hick town, but it is a small town.”
“Anything smaller than Manhattan is a hick town to me. Ever been there?”
“Once, for a math competition.”
“What did you think?”
“I was in and out of an auditorium. I never really saw the city.”
“Why am I not surprised.” Ro smiled slightly. “Look. I know your little sister is really none of my business, but, like most New Yorkers, I’m overly pushy. I’m gonna say this whether you want to hear it or not. I’m staging an intervention. For Haley.”
“Whatever.”
“Not whatever, Ben. Your overprotective behavior is going to warp her. Weekly is an idiot, but he’s not a perv. And if he flirts with her and she’s okay with it, let it go. Not all males are bad. Not all boys are bad. You’re a boy. You’re not bad. You’ve got to let her be a normal fourteen-year-old girl. You’ve got to let her giggle and flirt and bat her eyelashes. Let her grow up and develop and be a wonderful, beautiful, superficial girl like I am.”
Her cell beeped out an Adele ringtone. She looked at the screen.
“JD?” he asked.
“Why don’t you like him?”
“I came over to the table when he asked me to.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
Ben shrugged. “I have nothing against the dude. We don’t have much in common.”
“How about me? I like you both.”
“Like I said, he doesn’t want me talking to you.”
“You made that up.”
“Ask him.” When she didn’t answer, Ben said, “Miss McPeacemaker. Okay, just for you I will try not to irritate JD. It will be hard because the guy is really irritating.”
“Yes, he is conceited.”
“I’ll be cool with JD, but Weekly’s off the table.”
Ro smiled. “JD thinks you’re a genius in math. He said you tutored him.”
“Both statements are correct.”
“JD got over seven hundred in math.”
“I’m a very good tutor.” Her phone rang again. “Go talk to your boyfriend. We’ll catch up later.”
“We’re on speaking terms again?”
“Yes . . . if you want.”
“To be determined. Just don’t say anything to anyone, okay? My mom really would kill me.”
“I’m great at keeping secrets.”
She gave her famous little wave good-bye and started to walk away.
“Ro.” When she turned around, Ben said, “What was her name?”
“Gretchen.” A pause. “Thanks for asking.”
“I’m sorry she died. That really sucks.”
“Right back at you, Vicks.”
Chapter 8
For the next few weeks, Ro avoided him. Disappointing but not unexpected. Often people told him stuff, to express empathy at first, but then they started talking about themselves. Afterward, they usually realized they’d said too much and would shut down. Ben was used to it, but with Ro, it felt like betrayal for the second time.
He had wanted her to leave him alone. He had gotten his wish.
As fate would have it, he saw way more of Griffen than of Ro. He and Haley and Lilly had become this tight little triad. The kids hung out all the time. They spent way more time sparring than getting along, but that was sexual tension. Despite what Lilly had said, Ben really couldn’t tell which one Griffen liked better. At present, he seemed to be basking in the dual female attention.
The days became dull: a routine hour after hour even though the classes differed. He didn’t mind TA-ing because Lowen usually let him go early—sometimes he could skip the class altogether. One day, five minutes before calculus was due to start, Lowen motioned Ben over with a crooked finger. “Go to the supply cabinet. I need the Boswell instruction books, twenty of them. While you’re there, get me some paper and twenty calculators.” He handed him a cloth bag and a key. “You’ll need these.”
“Sure.”