[21] The Witness

(Malory)

“Why are you all dressed up?” I ask him. Kyle leaning against the counter while I gather the jar of sugar and blocks of chocolate from the fridge. Water’s boiling on the stove. We’re making hot chocolate. “And how come you were all the way on this side of town? Didn’t we cancel practice?”

“It’s cold,” he says. “And I just wanted to be out.”

I raise a brow at him, “All by yourself again?”

“Not that I have a choice,” he says, smiling, “Plus, I just thought maybe,” he scratches the back of his neck, “maybe while I was walking this way, I’d hear laughing from outside.” I sulk. He frowns. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry-”

“-It’s fine,” I say, cutting him off. “I’m used to it.”

***