I let Hector guide me out of the classroom. We didn’t speak, not the whole way outside. I wanted to talk about what had just happened, but as usual, I said nothing as we neared the parking lot. It wasn’t hard. I could talk. I’d talked in front of him before. I could do it now. It was easy.
Clenching my hands, I focused on the backs of the people in front of us—and pretended I was talking to Carl or Rosa. Or even Rider. The words came unstuck, slowly. Sort of painfully. “Maybe...I shouldn’t go.”
There.
I said it.
Thank Jesus.
And baby animals everywhere.
If my speaking surprised him, he didn’t show it. “There is no reason for you not to.”
Stopping by his Escort, I looked up at him. Tiny balls of nervous energy filled my stomach. Standing out here talking to him was not easy, no matter what lies I’d just told myself. “I...can think...of one big reason...why.”
A small grin appeared as he walked to the rear of the car and tossed his book bag into the back. “Paige?”
I nodded.
He chuckled, and I didn’t think it was very funny. Coming back to where I stood, he leaned against the driver’s door. A moment passed. “I don’t think Rider knows what he’s doing. I don’t think he ever knows what he’s doing.”
I frowned. “What...does that mean?”
Hector studied me for a moment, and this time he laughed under his breath. “Just thinking out loud.” He paused as he scratched at his chin. “You know, by this point in any other school year, Rider would’ve been in in-school suspension at least twice. Hasn’t gotten it once so far this year.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but I was glad it appeared to be in the past.
“He also used to be out tagging every night he didn’t work,” he continued, eyeing the pathway Rider would be coming up. “He didn’t really spend that much free time with Paige, you get me?”
I totally did not get him.
“He’s respectful of my abuelita, don’t get me wrong, but Rider always has been...”
“Has been...what?” I asked, brushing a strand of wind-blown hair out of my face.
His moss-green gaze drifted to where I stood. “He’s always been here but not.”
I knew what that meant.
My chest clenched as I looked down at the oil-stained asphalt. Here but not. Existing but not living. I knew that feeling. Lived it for several years. Some days it felt like I was still wearing that feeling like a heavy jacket buttoned up too tightly. I didn’t know Rider felt the same, or that others had noticed that about him.
And that... Well, that made me sad.
“Here he comes.” Hector pushed away from the car.
Looking up, I saw Rider jogging along the pathway. He slowed as he reached our car. Paige wasn’t with him. I searched his face for some clue of what happened as Hector got into the car. His jaw was a firm line.
My throat dried. “Is...is everything okay?”
Rider’s brow furrowed. “Yeah.”
“Maybe I—”
“Don’t.” He stepped toward me, chin lowered. “I know what you’re going to say. Don’t. What happened back there doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
I stood still. “That...had everything to do with me.”
Rider looked away, a muscle flickering along his jaw. A moment passed. “You’re right. In a way, you’re right. But that doesn’t change that Hector invited you or that I want you to come with us.”
The window rolled down and Hector stuck his head out. “You guys coming?”
I looked at Rider, still unsure.
Please.
He didn’t speak it. He mouthed it.
I was going.
* * *
Twenty minutes later I found myself at a small diner that was only a couple of miles from the school. From the looks of it, the diner at one time had been a legit firehouse, which obviously explained the name. The place was old—from the vintage photos hanging on the wall to the red vinyl booths. It had a homey feel to it, as if at any given moment you’d hear the older woman behind the register yelling at her son, who was cooking the food. I had no idea if that was the case, if it was family owned or whether the kind of unhappy-looking woman perched on a stool had any kids, but that was the feel of the place.
I liked it.
All of us ordered virtually the same—hamburgers and fries. Rider and I added cheese. Hector added every condiment under the sun. The food was delicious, so much better after forcing myself to eat the mystery meat at lunch.
I was glad I’d decided to go.
It was almost like there hadn’t been a reason for me to not have gone. I was having a good time listening to the guys give each other a hard time. Sometimes, Hector would slip into Puerto Rican and Rider would respond in kind. I got the impression they were insulting each other. I learned that cállate meant shut up, which was something they said to each other often.
I kept my phone in my bag. On the way here, I’d sent Rosa a message that I was grabbing a bite to eat with friends and then I’d be home. The text—a text that millions of normal teens probably sent every day, but that was all new to me—left me feeling a little giddy and I turned my phone to silent so I wouldn’t stress out if Rosa tried to get in touch with me. My phone had vibrated in my bag about fifteen minutes into the drive. I didn’t need to look to know it was either her or Carl. When I got home, I would tell them that I was driving and couldn’t answer.
I did feel bad—for the lying part.
Admittedly, it did not stop me from enjoying this.