Page 27

I stop short, and Conner follows suit. Closing a hand over my arm, he pulls me into the shadows of the building, and we stand there, watching.
After a few moments, a hand reaches out to pull my mom closer, just as a face appears in the window’s open frame. It’s a man, one I’ve never seen before. Whoever he is, I can tell it’s not some guy who owns a used car lot in Charlestown.
When he kisses my mom, I feel Conner’s hand tighten around my arm, like he’s afraid I’m going to make a scene. Try to stop them. The thought never even crossed my mind. Maybe it would have if what I’m seeing actually shocked me.
We watch as my mom pulls away with the kind of laugh I’ve never heard from her before. Light. Almost girlish. I hate it the moment I hear it. Hope whoever he is, he takes her away and leaves us in peace. Maybe with her gone, my dad wouldn’t drink so much. Maybe Ryan would be around more.
She steps onto the sidewalk, giving the man in the car an over the shoulder smile and the rear window goes up, seconds before the car pulls away.
My mom is half-way up the stoop when she turns around and peers directly into the shadows where we’re standing. I shrink back, bumping into the solid wall of Conner’s chest, the top of my head brushing his chin. She seems to stare at me forever, and even though I know she can’t see me, I’m almost positive she knows I’m here.
That I saw her.
Conner’s hand tightens on my arm again, like he’s getting ready to drag me back the way we came but then it’s over, and she’s turning away from us to push her way through the front door of our building.
As soon as she’s gone, Conner lets go of my arm, and I turn to find him looking down at me. “I take it back,” he says quietly. “I like my mom better.”
Laughing loudly, I cover my mouth with my hand because even though she’s gone, I still feel like she’s watching me. Us.
If she knew I was standing in the dark with Conner Gilroy, she would not be pleased. I can practically hear her—a neighborhood boy? Over my dead body.
Like someone like Conner Gilroy would even consider a girl like me.
“That makes two of us,” I tell him, pulling my broken backpack out of his arms. Bundling it against my chest, I look up at him. “Good night, Conner.”
A look passes over his face, but it’s too dark and too fast for me to catch it. For a moment, he leans closer, and I think he’s going to do something. Say something. But he doesn’t.
He just steps back with a grin, disappearing even deeper into the shadows. “‘Night, Hennie,” he says, and then he’s gone.