It wasn’t until we were almost to my house that I remembered my brother’s truck up there on the platform like a trophy in our front yard. I knew the whole town knew the story behind it, but people still had this need to hear it from me. They wanted the details. And they’d ask in this soft, sad voice. I wasn’t ready to hear that voice from Jackson because it would sound even more fake than when other people did it.

A sharp pain shot through my right shoulder. I clutched at it, then pinched the muscle, hoping to soothe it faster.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just get shoulder cramps every once in a while.”

“From swimming?”

I gritted my teeth as a new wave of pain surged through my shoulder. “Yes.” And they seemed to be happening more frequently, which worried me.

“Is there anything I can—”

“No, I’m good.” And I was. A minute later my shoulder relaxed and so did I. Until I remembered the truck in my front yard as we pulled up to the house.

“Wow. Awesome truck,” Jackson said.

My brows shot down as I studied his happy, innocent expression.

“I see why you weren’t impressed with my classic. Your dad has restored a real one to perfection.” He turned off the engine and hopped out. Next thing I knew, he was walking around my brother’s truck, running his hand along the paint job like it was a rare gem.

“Can I sit in it?”

“No!”

“Your dad doesn’t let people touch it?”

Had he really never seen it before? We didn’t live on a busy street. If he had no need to come into this neighborhood, I could see why he might not have ever seen it. “Have you never heard . . . ?” Did this mean he didn’t know about my brother?

“What? Am I missing something? Did your dad win some big award for this or something? I’m always a step behind in this town.”

It took me two seconds to remember that he moved here his freshman year. I assumed people still talked about my family. About my brother. But maybe we were old news. It was kind of ironic that the one person in town who reminded my dad of my brother didn’t even know of Eric’s existence. The thought of someone not knowing about my brother made my breath catch in my throat. Did the thought thrill me or devastate me? I wasn’t sure.

“It’s complicated.”

He held up his hands. “Hey, I get it. If I had this truck, I wouldn’t want people touching it either.”

“Right. Well, thanks for the ride.”

“I told you we were going to be friends, Moore.”

I wanted to object, but I just smiled and headed for my house.

Fifteen

Bungee jumping? Your activities have quite a range.