I heard a bike speeding up the street and knew it was Donnie. Part of me had expected him to show up. I glanced across the street at the Lambert’s living room window—Mrs. Lambert dropped the curtains and her silhouette disappeared. She could believe what she liked. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Donnie slowed down, rode past me, then came back again, circling around in front of my house. He finally stopped and stood straddling his bike, but stayed in the street, by the curb. He had his baseball cap on so I couldn’t see his face, but when he wiped his nose with his sleeve, something told me he’d been crying. “I’m leaving,” he said in a choked voice. “Just came to say goodbye.”