If Only by Becky Citra Page B

painting the tips yellow.
    â€œWhere did you get it?”
    â€œIt’s Hugh’s.” Danny sets the paintbrush down. He never likes it when I look over his shoulder at what he’s doing.
    â€œI can go,” I say.
    â€œNo,” Danny says. It’s not his voice—it’s some polite stranger. “It’s okay. I was going to take a break anyway.”
    This is the first time we’ve been alone together since it happened, except for passing each other in the kitchen or hallway. Danny doesn’t look at me. He’s straightening up the jars of paint, fiddling with the pieces of the model. I stare at his back. His shoulder blades stick out through his T-shirt. How come I’ve never noticed that before? His hair is getting long on his neck.
    I move away and sit on the edge of the bed. Slowly Danny turns his chair around, but his eyes are fixed on the floor. His knee jiggles up and down.
    â€œI can go,” I say again.
    â€œNo, really,” Danny says.
    I press my hands against my knees. “What happened at school on Friday?”
    â€œWhat?” The freckles on Danny’s cheeks darken.
    My heart is beating fast, but I have to find out. “What happened? Does everyone know?”
    â€œYeah. I mean, some of the kids were talking about it. Not everyone.” Danny’s knee is jiggling faster now.
    â€œJulie Glassen told?”
    â€œYeah.”
    Danny’s hiding something. “What exactly is everyone saying?”
    â€œI don’t know. I left at recess.”
    â€œWhat about Stacey? Did Stacey say anything?”
    â€œStacey? Uh…she said she’d call you.”
    I always know when Danny’s lying. “Dad says I have to go to school tomorrow, but I can’t. Not yet.”
    Danny doesn’t say anything.
    â€œYou gotta talk to Dad for me.”
    â€œI can try.” Danny’s voice is hoarse, not much more than a grunt.
    There’s so much more to say. I don’t even know what Danny did when I was attacked. Did he run? Did he hide? I remember Prince jumping up on Danny’s back, but I don’t remember exactly when that happened.
    I can’t ask Danny now. He doesn’t want me here. I get up to go. “Please. Talk to Dad.”
    But Danny is already back at his model. I don’t think he hears me.

Danny
    There is no way Danny is going to tell Pam that the kids at school are saying she was raped. Not a chance. The thought makes Danny ill. He’d felt paralyzed when Pam came to his room. He could barely look at her.
    On Monday morning, Danny wakes up early and lies in bed thinking about how he’s sort of promised Pam that he’ll talk to Dad and wondering what he should say. Then he falls back to sleep, and when he wakes up again, Dad is pounding on Pam’s door and it’s too late. He lies there, frozen.
    â€œGo away!” Pam yells.
    A thread of fear twists inside his stomach.
    He lets his breath out slowly when Dad’s footsteps fade down the hall.
    So far the week is going okay. Dad must have given up, because Pam stays home on Monday and Tuesday. Danny misses her at school, even though they don’t usually hang out together.
    Danny knows that kids are still talking about it. Sometimes when he walks into a class a conversation will stop abruptly, and he can feel curious eyes on him. He’s passed Stacey a few times in the hallway, but she walks right past him and never asks about Pam.
    By the time Danny gets home from school each day, Pam has got as far as changing out of her pajamas into jeans and a baggy T-shirt. She is usually wrapped in her quilt in the living room, watching TV . Danny goes right to his room to work on the model. He has almost finished painting all the pieces. It is taking longer than it should, but he wants to stretch it out and make it last, because when he is working on the model, his mind empties of everything else.
    He is thinking about his model in