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“That’s a natural part of moving, honey. You’ve made new friends. He probably has too.”

“But he wasn’t just my friend.” Ricky turned a pleading expression on his parents. Forget all the planning and scheming. He couldn’t wait. “Can I go see him over Christmas break?”

“No!” Ami said instantly. “Oh my goodness, honey, we want to celebrate the holidays with you!”

“Afterwards,” Ricky said. “School doesn’t start again until January. I’ll stay here for Christmas, and then I’ll fly to Colorado for the rest of the break. That can be my present actually, a plane ticket. I don’t want anything else.”

“You’re too young to be traveling alone,” Ami said, already shaking her head.

“But if we drop him off at the airport, and they pick him up…” Ken said. “I’m sure he’d be safe. And heisa young man now.”

Ricky shot his father a grateful expression. Then he turned to his mother. “Can I? Please?”

Ami sighed. “You would need to get permission from Jeremiah’s parents. And I would need to speak to his mother.”

“I’ll ask,” Ricky said, standing up in excitement. “Thank you!”

His mother managed a fleeting smile before it was washed away by concern. “Don’t thank me yet. Nothing is settled. Let’s see what his family thinks. Don’t be disappointed if they say no. The holidays are a stressful time for everyone.”

“I won’t be upset,” Ricky promised. He already felt happier and more optimistic than he had in weeks.

“When do you need a ride to the party?” Ken asked.

“I’ll walk,” Ricky said. “It isn’t far.”

“Then there’s no rush,” his mother said gently. “Sit down and eat breakfast with us.”

“I’ve already finished.”

“But we haven’t,” she said pointedly.

Ricky sat again while wearing a grin. He would help clear the table, do the dishes, and take out the trash. Anything they wanted. No price was too steep to keep them happy, as long as he got to go home.

He waited until the afternoon before attempting to call Jeremiah. His parents had all sorts of boring plans, like a visit to some museum and a dinner theater, whatever the heck that was. Once they finally left, he had the house to himself. Ricky had no intention of going to Omar’s birthday party. He had waffled over it all week, even buying a present, but couldn’t get past the fact that Anthony and Cameron would be there. Now there was a better option.

His palms were sweaty as he reached for the phone. Back when he had still been dating Jeremiah, they rarely ever called each other, too concerned that one of their parents might pick up the phone and listen in. Their special chat room was safer, and more fun, like they were spies meeting in secrecy. Ricky had already checked there, knowing it was unlikely, but he had the romantic notion that Jeremiah might sense the good news and be waiting for him. He wasn’t, of course, which did little to dissuade Ricky.

He listened to the phone ring, the breath catching in his throat when the line clicked.

“Hello?” It was a woman’s voice. Jeremiah’s mother.

“Hi, Mrs. Weaver,” he said. “It’s me, Ricky.”

“Ricky!” she said, sounding more surprised than pleased. “Are you still in Kansas?”

“Yes,” he said. “Things are fine here. It’s really nice.” He would have said that even if a tornado was ripping off the roof. “I was hoping to talk to Jeremiah. Is he home?”

“Oh,” Mrs. Weaver said. “Let me go check.”

Didn’t she know? Ricky held his breath, or tried to, while waiting, but she was gone an awfully long time. Ricky perked up when he heard rustling on the other end of the line.

“Ricky?” It was Mrs. Weaver again. “I’m sorry but he can’t come to the phone.”

She didn’t sound sorry. Ricky often wondered if she knew the true nature of their relationship. She had a tendency to check on them when they were shut in Jeremiah’s room. He doubted that she’d actually told her son who it was.

“Please?” he said. “It’s really important or I wouldn’t have called. Even if I could talk to him for a minute. Or a few seconds…”

Mrs. Weaver sighed. “Just a moment,” she said.