She took a sharp, jagged breath. Then she burst into tears.
Réal’s face changed instantly, the lines all pointing down. He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her head. She felt his muscle move against her cheek. His shirt smelled like lemon soap.
“If you need my help,” he said quietly, “I’m here, okay?”
She closed her eyes and cried, trying not to think at all. Then she said, “Can you please just not tell anyone else? Not Sunny, not Alex. Nobody.”
“Yeah. Of course, Ev,” he said. “It’s your business. I don’t even have to know anything about it. Just—whatever you need, I’m here. All right?”
She swallowed, breath shaking out of her as she held back more tears, and she gripped his cotton T-shirt like she was falling off the edge of the world.
After a while she calmed, listening to his body. His lungs, his heart, her eyes closed. She thought of that smooth, black river water sliding over the stones so easy. Just knowing its way without even thinking about it.
She sniffled and pulled away, blinking back fresh tears. He didn’t say anything. He just held her shoulders lightly and looked at her so long she felt like she was swimming in his soft, brown eyes.
Then the door at the side of the gym banged open, metal on metal.
At the sound of Sunny’s voice, a shadow fell over Réal, and whatever had just passed between them was gone.
R
“Hey, guys,” Sunny said as she walked around them in a circle. She stopped to look at Réal over Evie’s head. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he answered. He let go of Evie and stepped back. “Just happy that little prick gave me an excuse.”
Sunny laughed. “Yeah, McKellar is a punk. I don’t think anyone would have stopped you.” She glanced at Evie and shrugged. “I mean, you know what I mean. The teachers weren’t in a hurry to step in.”
Réal laughed too. Then he let out a long breath. He looked down at Evie, shoving his cut hands into his back pockets. The front of his T-shirt was blotched with tears and snot, but he didn’t care. His eyes darted all over her. You okay? he asked, without saying it out loud.
Evie blinked up at him, smiling weakly.
Réal bit his lips together and knit his brow. These few words were the most he and Evie had ever exchanged. She was so quiet—nothing like Sunny, who was all cackle and screech and easy to figure out. Evie was as alien as they came to a guy with four brothers.
He meant what he’d said though. Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, he was there. If she wanted to end this baby thing without anyone knowing, fine by him. He’d even pay for it, if she had no money—he didn’t know if these things cost money, but he would if they did, one way or another.
It was literally the very least he could do, since he’d killed his own best friend.
3
E
Shaun lived down the road from her, way past the edge of town, in a house like hers—too small and beat up for good company. His nan was his legal guardian, but she was too old to really govern him, so he was mostly wild.
He’d started coming around Evie’s at the end of last summer. The first time, she’d heard the car drive past and a few minutes later roar back again, like somewhere down the road he’d found the courage to knock on her door.
On that first night, Evie had only felt confused. They weren’t friends. She knew who he was, because everyone did, but he’d never spoken to her before. She’d leaned on the porch railing, watching him as he talked, blond hair spilling across his shoulders, T-shirt all stretched and faded. He sat on the steps and chucked pebbles across the lawn like he was skipping them on a lake with his big, athletic hands.
He talked about school, but she got the feeling there was something else. Some other reason he’d turned up like this, out of the blue. Eventually, she just said, “Shaun, what are you doing here?” and it stopped him mid-throw.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” he said. He looked down at his shoes and laughed self-consciously. “I guess this is kinda weird.”
“No,” she said. “It’s just, I don’t know, you never even said hi to me before. I didn’t think you knew I existed.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that,” he said quietly, turning a small pebble in his fingers. “I guess I should go.” He dropped the pebble and stood up. “I’ll see ya at school,” he said, and he left, confusing her even more.
Three nights later she was washing up dinner plates when she heard a car with a loose muffler cruise past. She turned off the water and listened. Sure enough, a few minutes later that engine came down the road again from the other direction and pulled into her drive.
She pushed open the screen door and leaned on the jamb. He was staring at his thumbs on the wheel, then he looked up and smiled, caught.
“Hey,” he said, easing out of the car. “I was just driving past.” He jerked his thumb at the road as he came across the lawn, but she knew his arrival was no coincidence.
He stopped at the bottom of her steps, resting a foot on the riser and leaning an elbow on his bent knee, his body a question mark. She unhitched herself from the doorjamb, letting the screen door slam behind her, and stood at the top of the steps. They smiled nervously from each end of the little obstacle.
“You haven’t been at school,” she said.
He grinned and cocked his head. “I didn’t think you noticed stuff like that.”
“Well, normally I don’t, but you said you’d see me there, so I looked for you.”
“You did?” He laughed, surprised. His teeth
