The Beginning of After by Jennifer Castle Page B

turned to me. “Sorry. We’ve been trying to get him not to do that since he was a puppy.”
    He didn’t have to know that Masher did it to me all the time and I thought it was hilarious.
    “If it’s any consolation,” said David, “he only does it to people he really likes.”
    “Well . . . who doesn’t?”
    David snorted a laugh, then we fell silent. Big awkward pause. I examined a spot on the ground near his feet.
    Finally, he said: “I’d ask how you were doing, but you probably hate that question even more than I do.”
    I looked up at him. He wasn’t smiling, but the corners of his mouth seemed relaxed and happy.
    “Yes,” was all I said, but I hammered down on the s and he nodded.
    “You should see what it’s like at the hospital. They all want to cure me of something.”
    “It’s pretty ridiculous at school, too,” I added.
    “Ugh! I can only imagine,” he said. A shadow moved across his face and he frowned, seemingly at a spot on the ground near my feet now. “I’m guessing the police told you about my dad.”
    I felt an adrenaline shot of anger rush through me, but swallowed it down.
    “They told my grandmother, so, yeah.”
    “He wasn’t drunk, you know.”
    “Okay,” was all I said. Swallowing again. My heart thudding in my ears.
    “Officially they say he was borderline, but I’ll tell you, I’ve seen him drink a lot more than he did that night and be totally fine. Driving, I mean.”
    “I’m sure,” I said. It felt like no matter what kind of stupid agreeing grunts I came out with, David would still sound like he was correcting me.
    “They promised they’re looking for another driver, but I think they’re too lazy. It’s so much easier for them to blame it all on my dad.”
    I blame it all on your dad! I felt like saying. But I swallowed that down too, tougher and more bitter than anything else. Then I looked at David and realized he was losing it a little as well.
    I just wanted to be out of this conversation but felt completely pinned.
    Then Masher jumped up on David and broke the tension. I loved that dog.
    “Listen, do you happen to have a Frisbee?” said David casually, like the previous horrible moment had never happened. “I was going to go out in front and toss it around with him for a while. He’s desperate.”
    “I think Toby has at least one,” I said. I started walking around the house toward the side door to the garage, and they both followed me.
    Toby, pretending to aim a Frisbee at my head. Spinning one on his finger like a top. Being pissed off that the glow-in-the-dark one didn’t glow at all, and taking it back to the store.
    On my way into the garage, I averted my eyes from the spot on the front lawn where my brother liked to play with all his guy stuff.
    Toby kept his Frisbees stashed in a box with soccer shin guards, a badminton birdie, and a single mateless cleat, which still had dirt caked on its sole from some long-ago soccer game.
    If I smell this, I thought, will it smell like him, or just be disgusting?
    Stop. Stop it. Push it away.
    I swallowed hard, took one of the Frisbees, and tossed it to David, who caught it with both hands.
    “Thanks,” he said, and headed out to the front yard. I stood on my tiptoes to watch him through one of the garage door windows. David crouched down low and shot the Frisbee diagonally toward the trees, where Masher caught it in his mouth, a good four feet off the ground.
    That night over dinner, Nana said, “I hate seeing you get so upset about some boy.” For a second I thought she was talking about David, and then realized she meant Joe. Someone had filled her in. Mrs. Dill, I bet.
    “ Guy , Nana. Nobody says boy anymore.”
    “I can’t imagine why anyone would play with your emotions at a time like this,” she said now, spreading butter on a roll. “Should I call his parents and let them know what he’s doing?”
    “For the love of God, no!” I nearly shouted.
    After a pause, she said, “Even if