She says, whisper-soft, "Thank you," and picks her soda can off my floor.

CHAPTER 15

We stay up all hours of the night, alternating between watching movies, eating too much, and listening to records while talking about nothing at all.

Or rather, Adam and Casper talk. Mainly Casper. They have stories. Funny ones, about school and life. Adam's stories are funny only in retrospect—like the time in Freshman year he got chased halfway home by two Juniors who accused him of watching them in the showers after gym—and probably weren't funny at all at the time, but rather utterly terrifying and humiliating.

I don't have much to add. Any stories I can call to mind have to do with Corey or Maggie or hurting myself or breaking things, all of which I don't feel much like bringing up. Talking about people you miss, people you've lost, things you've done, is like ripping open an old wound. Doesn't hurt any less than it did the first time. If I don't think about them, don't talk about them, I can stop hurting over it. Focus on the people who are here right this minute.

Casper and Adam are my beautiful distractions.

We sleep until lunch, munch on cold pizza and watch another movie, so by the time we pack up and leave, it's creeping into evening again. When we get to the light-rail station, the entire place is eerily quiet and abandoned. We linger near the tracks for the better part of fifteen minutes before Adam asks, "What time is it?"

Casper glances at her phone. "Almost five."

He frowns. "It's Saturday."

"Uh huh," Casper says. And then, "Oh—the trains stop running at four on Saturdays."

They look at me as though I should have known this. I hold out my hands helplessly.

"Um... You can stay at my place again, if you want."

"Nope. My folks get home bright and early tomorrow." Casper shifts her bag tiredly from one shoulder to the other. Adam tries to take it from her but she shrugs him off. "Sorry, Vince. Can you drop me off at my house? I'll get you back for gas money."

"Not a big deal." I say this with a little more gusto than is necessary. Because this means she trusts me enough to let me see where she lives. Plus, Adam isn't saying anything. Does that mean he'll come back home with me? We've never spent time alone. Unless Casper sleeping in the next room counts. She naps in my bed while we sit on the balcony and talk about music and movies and things that aren't of great importance.

Would it be different if it were just me and him? Maybe I'd work up the courage to tell him I would miss him, if he were gone. Or that I like his mouth. Or that I'm envious Casper has gotten to hear him sing and I haven't. I could tell him about the email from Harbinger and ask his opinion, see his reaction. Or maybe we'll sit there in uncomfortable silence the entire time without Casper to serve as a buffer for conversation.