ANGELINA —
The entire morning, Peter, Gabriel, and I had lots of fun. Even though they were mad at Peter for hiding the truth, they were happy that we were fine. I was happy to see Peter here. Since I was brought here, I kept worrying about him. He was a friend to me, no matter what happened in these past few days; I still wanted him to be my friend.
"So how's life in San Diego?" Gabriel asked both of us.
"Good," I said, avoiding looking at Peter. "We were grown used to it."
Gabriel studied me for a moment, maybe wondering about what made me so uncomfortable. He was about to say something when Philip called him. He immediately stood up and nodded at us and walked out.
"So," Peter began, breaking off the silence. "How are you?"
I considered the question. "Yeah, I guess I am."
He nodded and then I asked him about the plaster on his hand.
"I broke my arm." He said, "It's not a big deal."
"Okay."
"Jo was asking about you."