Her father’s new orange tabby kitten appeared and wound her warm body around Summer’s ankles, bumping her head against Joe’s hand. Socks had one green eye, one brown, and four white paws, hence her name. She never gave up until the human she’d targeted paid attention to her. Face still covered, Joe caved, stroking the kitten beneath her chin until a loud rumbling purr filled the room.

Summer’s wobbly legs needed a break so she sat at Joe’s hip, hugging her knees. “If you wanted to be alone, why did you come here?”

He didn’t answer and she sighed. She could feel his misery, and she ached for him. “I’m sorry, Joe.”

“For?”

For your mother being dead. For having a horrible, cruel father. For hating school. For being different. “For whatever’s bugging you.”

He let out a rude snort. “Go away, Summer.”

That he used her real name instead of his nickname for her, Red, scared her. “Look, jogging is stupid, okay? I’m only good at it because—”

“It’s not the jogging.”

“Mitch’s a big jerk. He’s just acting that way because I wouldn’t go out with him—”

Joe dropped his arm from his face and stared at the ceiling. “This isn’t about you for once. Imagine that.”

Shocked, she shut her mouth.

“Mew.”

Summer ignored the kitten and absorbed the pain of Joe’s words. He’d never, ever, said anything hurtful to her in all their years of friendship. They lived next door to each other. They walked to and from school together. They studied, they listened to music, and late at night, when his father came looking for blood, usually Joe’s, she waited up to watch him climb out his window and into hers, where she’d pretend not to see the suffering in his eyes because he hated her pity. She’d swallow the urge to hug him tight, instead lighting a soothing incense and tossing him her extra pillow and blanket. Then he’d silently curl up on her beanbag chair to get some safe sleep.

Now she stared at her closest friend in the world, the person she trusted above all else, a ball of hurt in her chest because he was shutting her out, snapping at her when all she was doing was trying to help. “Joe—”

“I said go away.” He reached into his pocket and thrust her amber crystal back at her.

She stared down at it. She’d given it to him for its gentle and nurturing nature, but he hadn’t allowed it to work. Worse, he’d never sent her away before—never. Stunned, she stood up. “When you’re not so grumpy, you know where to find me.”

“Yeah. With Danny.”