Billy sneezed, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his bathrobe. He could barely breathe and his head was throbbing to the rhythm of his pulse, but when his mom turned around, a questioning look on her face, he said, “I’m fine,” before she could even ask how he felt.

“You don’t look fine,” she said, walking over to the cupboard. She took out a glass and poured some orange juice, giving it to him. “You look sick.”

“Allergy.”

She nodded. “It’s the rain. It gets those mold spores in the air. I want you to drink your juice and take some vitamin C.”

He sat down at the counter and sipped from the glass. He chose the least objectionable cereal, poured about half a bowlful, and sprinkled several spoons of sugar on top of it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” his mom said.

“I can’t eat this stuff without sugar.”

“One spoon. That’s all.”

Billy smiled at her. “Too late now.” He poured the milk in his bowl.

“Hurry up and eat and get ready,” his dad said from behind him. “We’re going to the store this morning, and I want to get it over with as soon as possible.”

Billy swallowed his cereal. “I don’t want to go.”

“You have to go.”

“My allergies are bothering me. I feel kind of sick. I think I’d better stay home.”

“I thought you said you were fine. What a liar.” His mom tried to make her voice light and playful, but he could hear an undercurrent of tension in it. He saw worried concern in the glance she shot over his head at his dad. “Why do you really want to stay?”

“Brad and Michael might be coming over. We were going to go play in The Fort.”

“You’re coming with us,” his dad said.

“You guys always treat me like I’m a baby. I’m old enough to stay by myself. God, Lane’s parents left him by himself for two days before.”

“When?” his mother asked. “When you were staying overnight?”

“No,” he lied.

“Where is Lane, by the way? I haven’t seen him around lately. Did you two get into a fight or something?”

Billy looked at his mom, feeling his stomach knot up.

Naked.

“Yeah,” he said. He dug into his cereal, focusing his attention on the bowl, not wanting to look at his mom, not wanting to think about Lane.

His dad came into the kitchen, dumped the last little bit of his coffee down the sink, and rinsed out his cup. “I think you’d better come with us today,” he said.

Billy looked up at his father. “I think I’d be safer here,” he said.