perfectly behaved, Violet and I weren’t. Covering for each other is a lifelong habit.
“You worry too much,” she says. “I drive myself now. But I can’t wait to visit. Will you take me to a party?”
“No,” I say automatically. I’m happy to rescue Vi from trouble, but I’m not willing to help her find it in the first place.
“Kill joy.”
“We’ll have fun,” I promise. “I’ll take you to Gino’s for pizza, and maybe we’ll go skating.”
“Yay! Just like when I was seven .”
I snort. “But I’m fresh out of bail money.”
“Danny? Did you get arrested?” Suddenly her tone is serious.
“No,” I say a little too forcefully.
“There’s a lawyer Dad’s been talking to.”
Shit . “I know, Vi. I’m sorry. It’s just there’s been a little…entanglement and Dad doesn’t want you to worry.”
She groans. “But you’re going to tell me about it when I visit, right?”
“We’ll see.” I check the time and realize I have to get going. “I can’t wait to see you, shrimp. Email me the date and time, okay? But now I have to go. I have a date. If it goes well, I’ll tell you about her.” I offer this bit of enticement so Vi won’t feel so bad about my secrets.
“You’d better,” she says.
After we hang up, it takes me a few minutes to find my Foreigner T-shirt. I need it as a joke for Lianne, but it hides in the bottom of my dresser drawer until the third time I look for it. So getting dressed takes three minutes instead of one. I stick my phone in my pocket, grab a jacket and I’m ready to roll.
Out in the living room, it’s no surprise to find Orsen, Pepe and Leo wolfing down meatball grinders. My brother lives in Trindle House, but since Orsen’s place is the de facto hockey team hangout, I see him here all the time.
“Hey!” Orsen says, giving me a wave. “Didn’t know you were home. We would have ordered something for you.”
I’d heard them come in an hour ago, but I’ve been more or less hiding in my room. “Thanks—I’m good. Just heading out for dinner now. You need anything from the outside world?”
Orsen shakes his head. “Can’t send you out for beer, so I guess not.”
He’s twenty-one and I’m not. “Useless again, then. Bye ladies.”
“Deej?” My brother stops me.
“Yeah?”
“You called the lawyer, right?”
Oh my fucking God. I’m so sick of the nagging. “Two days ago.” I shove my phone in my pocket and grab my jacket, hoping for a quick exit.
“How did it go?”
Seriously? Who would want to talk about their legal troubles while the hockey team listens? “Fine. No—great. Spectacular .”
“Danny…” he chides, but I’m already opening the door. When I’m clear of it, I slam it behind me.
It’s cold outside, but the walk is short. In fact, Gino’s pizza is one of the few destinations convenient to our house. At Harkness, most of the students live in one of the twelve dormitory buildings we call “houses.” My brother is rounding out his fourth year in his.
I should be there, too. But instead I’m in exile. Like Napoleon.
At least my place is convenient to Gino’s. I get there fifteen minutes early, because I want to put my name down for a table. Both times I’ve hung out with Lianne, I found her fun and easy-going. But she’s probably used to fancy things. And while I’d warned her that Gino’s Appizza was very un fancy, I don’t want her to have to stand around waiting for a table in the divey little front section, either.
This part of Harkness isn’t the prettiest, but I don’t mind the gritty neighborhood because it has character. This pizza place has been here for seventy-five years. And there are actually pizza snobs who make hundred-mile treks just to eat here. I hope Gino’s never upgrades the laminate tables and the black metal napkin dispensers. If the place suddenly starts looking slick, I’ll fear for the quality.
As I approach the glass door, which is already steamed up from the
“You worry too much,” she says. “I drive myself now. But I can’t wait to visit. Will you take me to a party?”
“No,” I say automatically. I’m happy to rescue Vi from trouble, but I’m not willing to help her find it in the first place.
“Kill joy.”
“We’ll have fun,” I promise. “I’ll take you to Gino’s for pizza, and maybe we’ll go skating.”
“Yay! Just like when I was seven .”
I snort. “But I’m fresh out of bail money.”
“Danny? Did you get arrested?” Suddenly her tone is serious.
“No,” I say a little too forcefully.
“There’s a lawyer Dad’s been talking to.”
Shit . “I know, Vi. I’m sorry. It’s just there’s been a little…entanglement and Dad doesn’t want you to worry.”
She groans. “But you’re going to tell me about it when I visit, right?”
“We’ll see.” I check the time and realize I have to get going. “I can’t wait to see you, shrimp. Email me the date and time, okay? But now I have to go. I have a date. If it goes well, I’ll tell you about her.” I offer this bit of enticement so Vi won’t feel so bad about my secrets.
“You’d better,” she says.
After we hang up, it takes me a few minutes to find my Foreigner T-shirt. I need it as a joke for Lianne, but it hides in the bottom of my dresser drawer until the third time I look for it. So getting dressed takes three minutes instead of one. I stick my phone in my pocket, grab a jacket and I’m ready to roll.
Out in the living room, it’s no surprise to find Orsen, Pepe and Leo wolfing down meatball grinders. My brother lives in Trindle House, but since Orsen’s place is the de facto hockey team hangout, I see him here all the time.
“Hey!” Orsen says, giving me a wave. “Didn’t know you were home. We would have ordered something for you.”
I’d heard them come in an hour ago, but I’ve been more or less hiding in my room. “Thanks—I’m good. Just heading out for dinner now. You need anything from the outside world?”
Orsen shakes his head. “Can’t send you out for beer, so I guess not.”
He’s twenty-one and I’m not. “Useless again, then. Bye ladies.”
“Deej?” My brother stops me.
“Yeah?”
“You called the lawyer, right?”
Oh my fucking God. I’m so sick of the nagging. “Two days ago.” I shove my phone in my pocket and grab my jacket, hoping for a quick exit.
“How did it go?”
Seriously? Who would want to talk about their legal troubles while the hockey team listens? “Fine. No—great. Spectacular .”
“Danny…” he chides, but I’m already opening the door. When I’m clear of it, I slam it behind me.
It’s cold outside, but the walk is short. In fact, Gino’s pizza is one of the few destinations convenient to our house. At Harkness, most of the students live in one of the twelve dormitory buildings we call “houses.” My brother is rounding out his fourth year in his.
I should be there, too. But instead I’m in exile. Like Napoleon.
At least my place is convenient to Gino’s. I get there fifteen minutes early, because I want to put my name down for a table. Both times I’ve hung out with Lianne, I found her fun and easy-going. But she’s probably used to fancy things. And while I’d warned her that Gino’s Appizza was very un fancy, I don’t want her to have to stand around waiting for a table in the divey little front section, either.
This part of Harkness isn’t the prettiest, but I don’t mind the gritty neighborhood because it has character. This pizza place has been here for seventy-five years. And there are actually pizza snobs who make hundred-mile treks just to eat here. I hope Gino’s never upgrades the laminate tables and the black metal napkin dispensers. If the place suddenly starts looking slick, I’ll fear for the quality.
As I approach the glass door, which is already steamed up from the
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