“But I checked it out today. Did you see it? Sam posted that she and Blake are getting married this weekend. Did you know about that?”

I tried very hard to keep my face neutral and stoic.

“No, I didn’t see that on Facebook,” I said.

“Blake didn’t tell you about it?”

“No.”

“I know he’s stayed away ever since I chewed him out over the lampshade incident. But I can’t believe he didn’t invite you. They’re getting married, and we just don’t know about it or get invited?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” I asked.

She thought about it, tapping her fingers against the cover of her book. “I guess so. It’s just strange the way people can pass in and out of our lives. Maybe that’s all Facebook is good for—reminding us of the people we’re no longer close to.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

“Are you sad?” she asked. “If we don’t go or even get invited? I’ve been thinking. . . . You and he were such good friends, and while he’s not my favorite person, he means a lot to you. I know you leaned on him a lot when your dad died, and I can’t underestimate that.” She shrugged and looked reluctant to admit what she said next. “I mean, he has his charms. I have to admit that. He’s always been very kind to me outside of the lampshade incident. He’s funny, for one thing. And thoughtful . . . at times. And I do like Sam a lot. We were really starting to become friends. I guess what I’m saying is if you want him back in our lives, if you want to try to have a better relationship with him, we can do it. We all have difficult people in our lives, and we have to remember all the good things about them too. . . . Am I making any sense?”

“You are.”

“So I could ask Sam about the wedding if you want. . . .”

“I will be very happy not to attend their wedding,” I said.

And I meant every word of it.

Before I went up the stairs again, Amanda said my name. “Ryan?”

I waited. “What?”

But she didn’t say anything. She studied me, her brow creased.

I tried to make my face blank. I tried not to purse my lips or squint my eyes.

“It’s nothing,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Tomorrow night.”

She went back to her book, and I went upstairs.

CHAPTER TEN