“But I asked how you felt about people like Ezra. You said they were freaks. They terrified you, Muncie. How could I tell you?”

“You should have been honest. You should have left it up to me.”

Most of the kids had cleared the bus and entered school.

“If you’d explained—” she said.

“I tried.”

“You didn’t try hard enough. How could you believe I would turn away from someone with problems? Me. The biggest freak of all. How could you believe I would judge him?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But your parents—”

“Forget about them. This is between you and me. You found time for everything else. For the sheep, and school. You found time for a complete stranger. I had to force you to spend time with me. I was good enough before he came along, but now you’ve got someone you like better. Someone who’s less of a freak than I am. You chose him over me. You shut me out. Just like everyone else does, you shut me out.”

“I didn’t, Muncie.”

But she was right. I had. I had treated Muncie the way all the kids at school treated her. I’d treated her like she had no feelings, no understanding. I’d treated her like she wasn’t even there.

The bell rang and still we stood outside.

“Muncie, I’m sorry. I was so stupid.”

“You’re telling me? Just because you know sheep doesn’t mean you know anything. I trusted you, Nyle. I talked to you. I thought, Nyle accepts me. Really accepts me. But you never did. You couldn’t have.”

I saw the pain in her eyes, like something alive. Tears flowed angrily down into her mask.

“From now on just leave me alone. Okay? Don’t do me any favors. Don’t pretend to like me. Don’t pretend you’re my friend.”

Mr. Bashaw rushed past us on his way in to school.

“What are you two doing out here? Get inside! You’ll both need late slips!”

Muncie turned her back on me and hitched herself into school.

Now I remembered the worst part. The worst part of making connections to people was when those connections broke.

Twenty-Four

School passed in a blur; only Ezra remained in focus.

He awaited my return each afternoon. We studied together. Sometimes he read aloud. Being with Ezra was so comfortable, so easy.

Mrs. Trent and Ezra joined us for dinner every night now. In fact, they cooked dinner most times. No more one-pot stews. Mrs. Trent was even starting to look less gaunt.

And the two of them, Ezra and Mrs. Trent, they cleaned our house. Really cleaned it. The cobwebs across the ceiling beams disappeared. They washed curtains, scoured rust spots. They even scrubbed the awful wallpaper in the back bedroom. The house settled into a new look.

And at night, after Ezra and I went to bed, Mrs. Trent and Gran leaned across the kitchen table. Talking, laughing.

Hearing Gran laugh softened the last calluses around my heart.