Chapter 72

As Darian finished checking the machines, he made his way back to Stacy’s table. “Given how talkative you were at lunch today,” the teacher said, coming up around behind him again, “I’m pleasantly surprised to see you stayed after.” Stacy grinned. Darian slid onto his now empty stool and leaned onto the work table with his arms crossed, those hands cupping his elbows. “I almost thought you were mad at me or something.”

To avoid meeting his gaze, Stacy flicked on the small table saw and began to cut the dowel into the twelve inch lengths needed for their current project, a magazine rack. But Darian’s voice carried easily over the noise. “But then I told myself you’d tell me if I’d done something, right?” When Stacy shrugged, Darian offered, “Maybe we can talk about it now, if you want. If it was me—”

“It wasn’t,” Stacy assured him. Not you, he added silently. That bitch maybe, and her damn child, but never you.

Still, Darian persisted. “If it bothers you, you know I’ll listen.”