Send by Patty Blount Page A

go around taking whatever you want whenever you want it.”
    She wants us too.
    I turned to stare at him, sitting beside me on the double bed that took up most of my room. Besides the bed, the only other furniture in the room was a desk and a tall dresser, but I did have shelves and shelves of books on whatever wall space was left over. No computer though. I wasn’t allowed. That and my game system were downstairs in our family room because my online privileges were always supervised. “You’re delirious.” Julie and I tolerated each other for the sake of our speech class project, but that was it. Julie wanted me? No. No way. If this was how Julie expressed her interest in a guy, I’d pass.
    He bounced on my bed. Okay. Think about it. In speech class, she sits on the edge of her chair when we talk. And when she has a question, she lets Paul and Lisa answer it first but uses our answer instead.
    I gaped at him, not sure what surprised me more—that he kept using the word our , that he was right, or that I hadn’t noticed any of this before. “So, let’s suppose you’re right—”
    I am.
    â€œAnd I’m not saying you are. It doesn’t change anything, Kenny. It’s still too risky to get involved.” I tugged the sheets over me.
    Bullshit! All you do is risk this deep dark secret of yours. You shouldn’t have broken up that fight. You shouldn’t have gotten chummy with Brandon. You didn’t listen to me either time and now Jeff Dean is gunning for you. The one thing you should do you won’t because it’s risky? Gimme a break.
    He picked up the hockey puck I kept on the desk next to my bed and looked like he was going to heave it through my window for a long moment. It was from the last game I was allowed to play. I used it as a paperweight now.
    Instead, he sighed and flipped the puck over in his hands.
    I remember this game.
    One long finger traced the contours of the puck. Funny, I never noticed Kenny’s hands were the same size mine are now.
    Us versus Freehold High School. We won in a shootout.
    I smiled. It had been a hell of a game. I hadn’t played since, and I suddenly realized how much I missed being on skates. At thirteen years old, walking with size fourteen feet presented some challenges, but on skates, I was a thing of awe. And then I remembered that night in the detention center when I’d finally listened to Kenny and let him loose. I remembered the carnage. I took the puck out of his hands, put it back on my pile of papers. “It’s too dangerous, Kenny. I’m six-three. I’d probably end up killing somebody. Again.”
    So is this how it’s always gonna be? He waved his hand between us. No girlfriend. No sports. Nothing?
    I spread my arms, palms up. “It has to be. Living as Daniel Ellison is working, Kenny. Nobody’s throwing rocks through the window or slashing the tires on Mom’s car. It’s working.”
    Your name is Kenneth James Mele. You should be proud of that, not trying to hide it.
    I shook my head. I was named Kenneth after my grandfather and James for my father. “I’m not hiding it. I’m protecting it. And that’s why I can’t be with Julie, Kenny. We can’t be friends. Friends talk to each other about themselves. What could I tell her that isn’t part of the lie?”
    You lie to people all the time. How is this different?
    â€œBecause it is.” I lifted my hands, let them fall. “I don’t like lying to everyone, Kenny.” I shook my head. “It’s one thing to keep everybody safe. It’s a whole different thing to lie to Julie just so she’ll go out with me.”
    Then tell her the truth.
    â€œNo!” A noise in the hall had my head whipping toward my door, but it was still closed. “I can’t tell anyone the truth. If it comes out, it starts all over again.” I stared up at the ceiling.