Page 48

Emir says, “It’s disturbing.” He makes a face that Sebastian supposes is the one he was making a minute ago. It resembles a dog’s when the vacuum cleaner comes on.

Sebastian, his body betraying him, shivers. He replies, “I do not,” without the conviction he wants.

“Yes, you do!” Emir’s feet rest on a chair, Willie’s chair, as he bends to steal the granola bar from Sebastian’s tray. It won’t be missed. “Actually,” Emir continues as he points a finger at Sebastian, crunching on granola, “you used to make that same face when Mrs. Callaway made us readMy Side of the Mountain.”

Mrs. Callaway was a tyrant, always making them read books that put Sebastian to sleep.The Hobbitwas an awesome exception. “Literature was boring,” Sebastian mumbles.

“If you were struggling, I would’ve helped you.” Emir’s mouth slants and his brow creases when he adds, “Back then.”

Sebastian’s skin prickles from his chest on up. He chews his thumbnail; confusion and conflict fester in his system.

Emir sits, inscrutable, as if they’re not walking on this very thin sheet of ice.

Tension and his warped sense of timing make Sebastian ask, “What happened?” before he realizes what’s coming out of his mouth.

Emir chews granola slowly. “Remember when I went to England for a summer?”

Sebastian nods. After fifth grade, Emir’s family left, and he didn’t hear from Emir at all. It was their first Fourth of July without viewing the fireworks from a tree in Sebastian’s backyard while fireflies hovered around their ankles. No one explained to him what happened. Life simply ripped Sebastian’s left arm off and told him he didn’t need it. And, sure, Sebastian could’ve tried to find Emir, but he wasten. He knew how to operate his Xbox, not set up a Facebook account.

“My grandmother, my nani, was sick for a long time. Then, she died,” Emir says, face pinched as if the memory’s still fresh. “We stayed in London because my mom was too shook up to function.”

Sebastian chews his lip, wanting to say something but unsure what.

“And then I came back.”

He came back in the middle of the school year, when Sebastian had filled the emptiness left by Emir with Willie, Mason, and Zach, and was living in an alternate universe where his new best friends were Mason and Willie. Then, out of a wormhole, Emir returned with a different view of Sebastian, as if Sebastian was an alien and not the kid who’d sat alone on a couch, missing a goofy-grinning, skinny kid no longer there to help him bomb zombies.

Sebastian kept his distance. Emir did too. Their lost friendship became a passing thought.

“I get nervous around people,” Emir says, staring at his knees. “People call me weird all the time, but I’m just extremely shy. It’s easier for me to stick to myself.” He hunches forward, growing smaller.

Sebastian absently puts a hand on Emir’s knee.

The tops of Emir’s cheeks blush rose. “So, no, I didn’t mean to be an asshole to Hunter. I’m just not good with people. The only person I never had totrywith is you. We got on well, and then you were gone.”

Sebastian sinks in his seat. It’s not a sucker punch catching him off guard, but it aches. He would gladly have made room for Emir in his crowd if they actually talked once Emir came back. That’s mainly Sebastian’s fault too. Why the hell isn’t working through feelings a class offered to middle school kids? As soon as puberty hits, all of a sudden people find reasons not to like you: weight, height, acne, sexuality, race, parents’ income, whatever. Confidence is earned by how many flaws you can find in someone else.

“Once high school started…” Emir trails off for a moment. “It’s bloody easy not to want to make friends with people when they stare at you.” Emir sighs. “The crippling shyness is just a bonus.”

“I went through it, too.”

Sebastian is overwhelmed by the reality that what ruined his friendship with Emir was a misunderstanding. They’re not mortal enemies, but each have some major self-esteem issues to work through.

“I never noticed what people said about me when you were around.” Emir smiles at his knees. “That’s the thing. I spent so much time caring about you, I didn’t know anyone else existed.”

Sebastian slumps, but he’s not willing to admit that Emir’s confession knocks him back.

The dining hall is slowly starting to fill. Players walk in laughing; loud conversations are punctuated by trays dropped on tables. Emir tenses under the hand Sebastian has on his knee.

“Sorry,” Sebastian says, nervously, pulling away.

“I should go.” Emir pushes off the table with one hand. His cagey eyes look around. The noise is getting louder. His mouth pops open and his eyes scan Sebastian as if he’s about to say something else. Instead, he nudges through the congestion at the entryway to leave.

“Bro,” Mason says, smacking his tray on the table. Willie follows; Hunter and Grey squeeze into the other side. “What wasthatabout?”

Sebastian frowns. “Nothing.” But it’s a pretty big something that he hasn’t got a clue how to explain.

“But that was Shah, at our table,” Mason says, annoyed.