Chapter 2

Judy toyed with her fingers, not meeting my gaze.

“I’ll tell you why.” Bobbi didn’t seem to notice Judy’s frown. “Johnny’s old girlfriend will be coming—”

“Well, I had to invite her, didn’t I? Everyone would have thought I was a cold bitch if I didn’t.”

“Well, you are a cold bitch.” Bobbi burst into laughter at Judy’s disgruntled frown. “You want her to see you with her ex-boyfriend.” Bobbi turned to me. “But the thing is, if she’s alone, he might feel sorry for her and maybe regret breaking up to go with Judes.”

I didn’t understand why she was telling me all this. It wasn’t as if the three of us were BFFs. My confusion must have been obvious.

“Judy wants to set you up with Leslie.”

I blinked at her. “Johnny’s Leslie?”

Judy’s expression grew cold. “He’s myJohnny.”

“Sorry.”

“Never mind. Here’s my address.” She shoved a piece of paper into my hand. “The party starts at eight. Don’t be late.”

“But—”

The two girls danced off before I could complete my protest. And okay, maybe I hadn’t tried too hard. I had no friends in school, not even in the chemistry club I was president of, and while it had been fine when I’d first started Muhlenberg High, over the years it had become lonely. To finally be invited to participate filled a gap I hadn’t realized ran so deep.

It was kind of short notice, but in the three years since I’d been working at Uncle Angelo’s, I’d never once taken a personal day or called in sick, and Angelo had remarked on that just the other day.

I rolled my shoulders to settle my backpack more comfortably, mounted my moped, and headed home.

* * * *

“I’m home, Mom,” I called after I let myself into the kitchen of the one bedroom house we shared. As a single mom, this was the best she could afford, even working a forty-hour week at our public library—Muhlenberg didn’t pay much. We’d lived at 493 Smallwood Road for ages, and I loved it, even though I had to sleep on the loveseat in the living room. It was a good thing I wasn’t any taller than I was.

“We’re in the living room, sweetie.”

We? I dropped my backpack by the kitchen table, headed down the corridor that bisected the house, and walked into the room that looked out onto Smallwood Road.

Mom was sitting on her padded rocking chair, while a couple I didn’t recognize sat on the loveseat, the lone piece of nice furniture my gram and gramps had left Mom.

“This is Martin and Lacey Sullivan. They’ve just moved in across the street. This is my son Andrey.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan.” I smiled at them. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

They were a nice-looking couple, although he was huge in comparison to his petite wife. I judged him to be in his late thirties, while she appeared about ten years older. Not that she looked old. I was going by the laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and the lines bracketing her mouth. Even with that, she had happy eyes.

“Thank you.” Mr. Sullivan held out his hand, and when I accepted it, he closed his huge paw gently and didn’t try to squeeze the bones to the breaking point. I appreciated that. All through school, I’d always been the kid at the front of the line because I was so short, and even now, at seventeen, I was still the shortest in my class.

“Mrs. Sullivan.” I turned my smile on her. She was pretty, but her husband didn’t have to worry I’d make a pass at her. It also wasn’t likely I’d make a pass at him, but only because he wasn’t the type I tended to drool over.

* * * *

Yeah, I was gay. I’d known it since I was five and had watched Indiana Jones and the Last Crusadewith my mom. I’d decided I wanted to marry River Phoenix when I grew up.

“You can’t, sweetie,” Mom had said.

“Why not?”

She’d kissed my cheek, stroked my hair, and explained, and it turned out she was right. Not because we were both boys or because he was twenty years older than me, but because this amazing actor had passed away two years before.

My mom was the coolest. She didn’t get upset by my childish announcement, and she let me put up posters from each of River Phoenix’s movies. And if she worried that as I grew older, I’d transfer my affections to another boy, she never let on.

* * * *

“Well, it was very nice meeting you, but I hope you’ll excuse me,” I said to the Sullivans. “I have to change and get to work.”

“Your mother was telling us what an industrious young man you are.”

“Thanks.”

“We were wondering if you’d be available to babysit for us occasionally this summer,” Mrs. Sullivan said. “We have three children under the age of ten, and usually River, my son, would watch them…”

My ears perked up at that. River?

“…but he’s spending the month with his father and won’t be back in time.”

“I see.” River?

“I told them you make sixteen dollars an hour at Uncle Angelo’s,” Mom murmured. My pay scale had risen with each promotion, from busboy to server to cook, even though all I cooked was pizza and garlic knots. As it turned out, my knowledge of chemistry helped, and my pizzas were in high demand. Uncle Angelo had promised another raise in my next paycheck.