I turn back, holding my order pad between us.
“I was wondering if . . . you might go with me to prom?”
My mouth falls open. I blink at him and notice how rigidly straight he’s sitting. His hands are clasped in front of him. It looks like he even tried to style his hair.
“Thanks, Kip, but I . . .”
“It doesn’t have to be like a date. We could just go as friends.”
I didn’t think my face could get any hotter. Why would he ask this? “You know, I’m not even sure I want to go. Gretchen and I had planned to go together . . .”
He contorts his mouth, his own color deepening, and I worry for a second he’s really upset. “Okay—I just, you know, thought I’d ask.”
“No, I—I’m glad you did.” I feel like there’s more I need to say, but I just tear a sheet off my order pad and crumple it in my hand. “I’ll go get you that coffee.”
I spend as long as possible in the bathroom, trying to decide if Kip is really that desperate for a date, or if there was another reason behind his request. The possibilities make me uneasy. He did say he was in the woods before Gretchen died. But does that mean Alex Burke was in Gretchen’s room just by coincidence? When I come back out, I nearly trip over my own feet. Kirsten is sitting with Kip, smiling pleasantly. She leans toward him and he smiles back. It looks as though they’re having some sort of in-depth discussion, but both of them stop talking as soon as I approach.
“Sonia, hey.” Kirsten gives me a gentle smile. “Deputy Robson told me about your uncle. How’s he doing?”
“They think he’s going to be okay.” I fumble with my apron. “Thanks.”
Kip barely acknowledges my presence when I pour his coffee. I’m happy to pretend the last ten minutes never happened too.
“Let me get you a—”
“I’ll do the granola bowl,” Kirsten says quickly. “Extra fruit, hold the yogurt.”
I pause, my skin prickling. The granola bowl was always Gretchen’s order. It strikes me as weird her little sister would ask for that, but I push the thought away. Kirsten hardly comes to the diner; I doubt she even knew. “Coming right up.”
When I come back from the kitchen, I spot Haley through the window and wave to her. She looks over her shoulder and comes inside wearing shorts and a track jacket, looking like she just finished a run.
“Hey, where’s Yuji? Is he meeting you?”
“No, Aisha.” Her eyes dart over the nearby faces. She spots Shelly and Amir in the corner and lowers her voice. “Is it true, about Gretchen’s drug money?”
I drop the menus I’m holding. I steal a glance at Kirsten as we both stoop to pick them up, but I don’t think she could have heard.
“Aisha was supposed to keep that quiet,” I whisper.
“It’s okay, I won’t tell.”
I narrow my eyes. Haley has never been the greatest at filtering her thoughts before they reach her mouth. I lead her over to a table on the far side of the room. “You and Aisha doing breakfast today, or grilled cheese?”
“Grilled cheese!” Aisha slides into the chair across from Haley. “Sorry I’m late. Drama at the Wallace house this morning.”
Haley makes a face. “Tyrone?”
“More like my mom and dad.” Aisha rolls her eyes. “Tyrone is handling this whole thing like an adult.”
I clear my throat. “So, you told Haley about that too?”
Aisha hesitates, then lifts her chin. “Telling Haley is like telling myself. She’s trustworthy.”
“Did you find something to wear to prom, Sonia?” Haley smiles, making a calculated change of subject. “I can’t believe it’s this Saturday.”
My neck is stiff. This seems to be on everyone’s mind except mine. I guess it might be a welcome distraction if it didn’t make me so sick to think about Gretchen not being there in her purple gown. “Um . . . I’m still kind of working on it.”
This isn’t quite true. Gretchen gave me a dress. Actually, she wanted to buy one for me, but I wouldn’t let her, so she selected a beautiful pink chiffon gown out of her closet, swearing she hadn’t worn it in at least two years. We’d just returned from a marathon shopping trip in the city, where I’m pretty sure she tried on every dress in creation, aside from two because she didn’t like the colors. I accepted the gift, complaining all the while that it was pointless since I didn’t have a date, but that’s when she said she didn’t either, and told me about breaking up with Marcus.
“You’re welcome to try anything in my closet,” Aisha says. “Want to come over later?”