Oscar turns to me and takes my hand. Can he hear them too? His face looks a little pained, and I can tell I’m not just making it up. Suddenly, I feel fiercely protective. It’s not just Dad they’re talking about. In a way, it’s Oscar too. But whether or not Oscar is gay, it doesn’t matter, because these people are just flat-out wrong.

I whisk him away from the wall of gossiping adults, stomping as much as any two seventh graders can wearing just socks on soft foam mats.

“Where to first?” he asks.

I swallow back the anger and anxiety swirling in my chest like a sandstorm. Neither of my parents have made their reason for getting divorced a secret, but something in me—the same thing that would jump in front of a moving car for Cheese—makes me want to stop anyone from saying anything mean or rude about Dad. To protect him.

“Sweet Pea?” asks Oscar. “Can we just go jump?”

My mom always says that sometimes the best thing you can do to show a bully that they’re in the wrong is to live your very best life, and right now our very best life is jumping up and down until our heads spin. “Anywhere but the rock wall!” I finally say. “Just looking at that harness gives me a wedgie.”

Chapter Thirteen

The Life of the Party

There are lines for almost everything at Trampoline Zone. I swear, Kiera invited the whole dang town. Except me, and even though I never expected to be invited, I can’t help feeling a little hurt at the thought of how much trouble she went through to not invite me.

Oscar and I find one of the basic trampolines unoccupied, but it’s still way better than any trampoline I’ve ever been on. There are even trampolines against the wall to bounce off. When I say kids are bouncing off the walls, I’m dead serious.

Jumping back and forth with Oscar is the most fun because we send each other higher and higher into the air. Being a bigger girl, it might make me feel a little self-conscious to do this with other people, but Oscar and I are around the same size. It’s kind of like how it’s no fun playing on a seesaw with friends who are way skinnier than you, because you just sit there on the ground opposite them like a sunken ship.

Like Oscar says, fat kids gotta stick together. The first time he said that, actually, I couldn’t hide how much the thought of being called fat mortified me. But Oscar just shrugged and said, “Fat doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to say when Kiera sees you?” he asks as we pass each other midair.

My mouth goes dry at the thought of it. “Happy birthday?”

Oscar bounces on his butt and I land beside him, and we both take a moment to sprawl out and catch our breath. “She’s gonna be so mad,” he says, whispering even though no one can hear us over the music.