Page 60 of Adam's Rising

Grams tapped her fingers on her leg. “I’m trying to find something wrong with this, but I agree. In this situation, the less said, the better. The school will just order his transcripts from Talkeetna.”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

Grams patted her arm. “You’ve always been a thirty-year-old trapped in a teenager’s body.” The car was quiet for a second. “And how does Lala figure into this?”

Claire chewed on her bottom lip.

“Claire-bear? Why sneak out on Lala two days in a row? What aren’t you telling me?”

Grams wouldn’t breathe a word even to Gramps if Claire asked her, but would knowing something she shouldn’t cause her issues. Claire definitely didn’t want to put her in harm’s way, but she couldn’t think of a believable lie. Not that she liked to lie, but she believed that if a lie protected someone, it wasn’t really a lie — more like a misnomer.

“Again, I hate to ask this of you — because I know you do — but please trust me. I can’t — rather — I don’t want to bore you with details that don’t matter, so I’ll just say this, Lala’s confused about someone’s identity. But you can’t ask Lala why she’s confused or tell Gramps — please. Just trust me. Please don’t even mention helping out Peter.”

Claire had said too much. But she trusted Grams to keep a secret. If she didn’t tell her not to say anything, she might slip, which could hurt Adam.

* * *

As planned,the moment the final bell rang, Claire raced to Grams’s Cherokee before Lala saw her, then circled back around for Peter.

Claire had waited in the hall while Grams walked Peter into the front office.

Grams said it was a piece of cake.

She’d taken Grams home afterward with a heartfelt thanks, then returned to school.

Claire pulled forward as each car moved. When she was several car-lengths away, she spotted Peter. He stood with his back to a wall, arms crossed. He stood out in stark contrast to many of the students with his golden-brown skin and long, almost-black hair. Most of the guys in school had short shag cuts.

“Hey!” Claire waved to Peter as she pulled up in the school line.

He didn’t wave or return her hello, just pushed himself off the wall and walked toward the Jeep.

As he walked around the front of the vehicle, Claire noticed a red gash just above his eyebrow.

Peter opened the door and crawled inside, dropping his books on the floorboard.

“Hello, Claire,” Claire attempted Peter’s low sullen voice. “It’s so nice to see you. Thank you for driving me home so I don’t have to take the bus.”

She pulled away, taking a moment to peek in his direction.

Peter had rolled up his jacket and had curled himself up against the door.

Claire took a sharp right, turning onto a side street. She squeaked to a stop.

“Hey, Peter? You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She touched his arm. Although she’d known Adam better, she always liked his baby brother. In grade school, they even played together.

“Peter… Did someone?”

He flipped around, sitting upright. “I miss my home, okay? That’s it. I had friends there.”

She sighed. “I understand, Peter. I had to leave Talkeetna when I was your age, remember?”

He shook his head. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I just…” He inhaled deeply, then dropped his chin to his chest. “It’s just not fair.”

Claire reached for his hand. “It’s not fair. I’m your friend, though. You can talk to me.”