Casper spots me and straightens up, not waving because she sees me heading their way. We don't do the whole huggy-clingy thing me and Corey used to do. I'm worried I would break her. "Hey," I greet instead.

"Hey yourself." She peers up at me. The prominent dark circles under her eyes make them look an even brighter shade of blue. "We're starving. Any place to eat around here before we catch a movie?"

I shrug, casting a glance at RoxWell, who still has his head down, studying his feet. "Yeah, sure. Burgers? There's a place across the street from the theater."

"Sounds good." She nudges her companion with an elbow. "So, Vincent, this is Adam Rockswell. Adam, this is Vincent Hazelwood."

Rockswell. RoxWell. Oh. Original. "Nice to meet you." I always feel stupid offering out a hand to people my age, and yet I'm doing just that. Adam—can I call him Adam?—stares at it for so long that I think I might stand here forever, until he slowly lifts his own hand to shake mine. His fingers are cold. But he looks up a little, and under that hair he's got a thin mouth and these big, gold eyes that have me staring like an idiot and wanting to ask if he wears contacts for that kind of color. I think it must be the way the sun's reflecting off his face to make them that bright.

"Yeah," he says, casual, in a voice that's a lot softer than I expected. "Hey."

Casper's already prodding her fingers into my ribs and I take the hint, leading them both to Maggie's ugly van. "Traveling in style, boys," she says as she hops into the front seat. I blush, thinking maybe I ought to trade in the van for something less humiliating.

I take them to Zeke's Burgers across from the theaters in town. It's the sort of place where you order at the counter and they'll bring it to you when it's ready; a mix of fast-food meets traditional dining, I guess. As we're figuring out what to order, the cashier asks if this is all together. I answer "Yeah, I'm paying," before the others can speak up, because even if my ride is less than impressive I can at least be cool by buying them lunch.

Unfortunately, when we get our food Casper takes two bites of her burger, nibbles on a fry, and pushes the basket away. Her head lolls back and she sighs. I pause in mid-bite.

"Is it okay? Is there something wrong with it?"

"No, it's fine."

I start to ask why she isn't eating when I remember what she mentioned in one of her various emails. Something about food. And eating. And how she lost a bunch of weight because the treatments made her nauseous all the time. Maybe I should've taken her somewhere else, with food that would've been easier on her stomach. Her third round of treatments started last week. I wonder if her hair will fall out again.