“Hold on a second.” I filled a large sack with the leftover food we usually threw out and handed it to her. “You can have that for later.”

She looked in the sack. “Thanks.”

“Where are you going now?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll just walk around for a while.”

“It’s supposed to snow again tonight.”

She didn’t say anything, just stood there, holding the sack of food. Maybe it was how helpless she looked or how pretty I thought she was, but at that moment I said the most out-of-character and bravest thing I’d ever said. “You could come home with me. I live about six blocks from here.”

To my surprise she actually seemed to consider it. “Are your parents home?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly, thinking she wouldn’t come if they weren’t.

She frowned. “I better not. They might call someone.”

She was right about that. My parents didn’t like anyone getting into their affairs and afforded others the same consideration. They’d be on the phone with her parents or the police before she got her coat off. Still, I couldn’t let her freeze. Then I had a brilliant idea. “I know where you can stay. My brother and I built a clubhouse in our backyard. It’s probably cold but it’s better than nothing.”

“A clubhouse?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty big. My brother and I slept in there almost every night last summer. It’s got a mattress and everything.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“No one will see me?”

“Our house has five acres and it’s way out back. You can’t see it from the house. I don’t think my parents even know it’s there.”

“You have five acres? You must be rich.”

“Believe me, we’re not.”

“You sure your parents won’t see me?”

“My dad can’t walk and my mother never goes out back. It’s the perfect hideout.”

“Why can’t your dad walk?”

“He has Guillain-Barré. It’s this disease that paralyzes you.”

“Wow.”

“Well, they say it’s not always permanent. He can walk with crutches now.”

“That’s good,” she said.

“So are you coming?”

“Sure.”

We stepped outside and I pulled the door shut, locking it behind us. A light snow had started to fall. I got my bike and pushed it beside me as we started the walk to my home. I wanted to say something clever but had no idea what that might be. The silence became uncomfortable. Fortunately Grace was better at conversation than I was.

“So, do you work every night?” she asked.

“No. Usually just three or four times a week.”

“How’s the pay?”

“Not good,” I said. “Like almost too small to see with a microscope.”

“Then why do you work there?”

“The cool hats.”

She laughed.

“And I can ride my bike to work.”

“That’s a plus,” she said.

“Yeah.”