Hoo is awesome? You, that’s hoo!

Hoo hoo

Your best NOT-friend.

DYNAH!

Oren had laughed and laughed when I was done. But my parents, Nate and Oren’s uncle had all looked confused. Which meant it was perfect.

Like he was reading my mind now, Oren said, “I can’t wait to get this thing off, but maybe they will let me keep it.”

“It kind of stinks,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Take a picture of it.” But I was happy he’d want to keep it. I turned my stick to toast the other side of the marshmallow.

“So…” Oren said a few minutes later.

The fire crackled as the grown-ups talked on the other side of the campsite, but he was suddenly really still and quiet.

“What?” I turned toward him for a second, not wanting to take my eye off my marshmallow for too long. They catch fire easily if you aren’t careful.

Finally he said, “I went to my first therapy session.”

“Oh?” I turned back toward him. “How did it go?”

“It was okay.” He shrugged. “Just talking, I guess.”

I wanted to ask what he’d talked about, but I didn’t. It was to help him with his grief, so he’d probably talked about his parents and the accident. Maybe he’d talked about me and how I’d helped him and we’d become best friends and were going to be in the same class at school—something we were both excited about.

Or maybe he’d mentioned how Nate had taken him to the comic-book store last week, like a big brother would.

Maybe he’d told the therapist how he and his uncle were getting to know each other. Or how while things were still weird with his old friends, they were getting better.

Or perhaps he’d told his therapist about taking over Nate’s job at the funeral home, standing across from me and giving out kippahs and offering condolences while I handed out tissues. How it made him feel better to help others.

“Actually…” Oren said softly, his voice trailing off.

I glanced at him. “Actually what?”

“It was better than just okay,” he said, letting out a big breath. “It was…I feel…I don’t know. It was good. I wasn’t expecting it to be. But it was.”

So yeah. Whatever it was he’d talked about in therapy, it would help him get better. He already was better.

“You know,” he said. “Someday, if you wanted to come with me…to talk about Sam…”

I pulled my marshmallow out right before it caught on fire. Perfect.

“Evie?”

I had to swallow past the lump in my throat before I could talk. It wasn’t there so much because I was sad about Sam, but because Oren got it. He got me.

“Maybe someday,” I said, nodding at him. “I’ll think on it, okay?”

“Okay.” He gave me a smile.

It was then that I realized, too late, I should have gotten my graham crackers ready. Now I’d have to fumble while the marshmallow got cold and lost its gooeyness.