Page 69 of Lance

Lance looks up and sees me in the doorway, and I can see that there’s something like panic in his eyes.He thinks he can’t handle this, I realize. I wish there was a way to show him that heisdoingit.

“That makes sense,” I say, coming into the room. Simon looks up at me, and his tight hold on his knees loosens. “This is still a pretty new house for you. But you’re safe here,Simon.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, relaxing a little more. Lance goes to move from the bed, but I shake my head at him.You’re doing great, Imouth.

“Were there monsters in the movie you watched tonight?” heasks.

Simon shakes his head. “No. Just stupidaliens.”

“I guess you’re still not a fan ofStar Trek, huh?” Iask.

Simon offers me a little smile, and now he straightens out under the covers, no longer holding himself in the tight little ball. “It was okay. But I still likeStar Warsbetter.”

“I bet Luke Skywalker could take on any monster,” Lance says, and I look at him in surprise. “What?” he asks. “I’ve seenStarWars.”

“You know what this means, don’t you, Simon?” I ask. “We need to get Lance to have aStar Warsmarathon withus.”

Simon grins. “Original series orprequels?”

“Why not allsix?”

“Oh, God,” Lance mutters, and Simongiggles.

“You know what would be really cool,” I say. “If we could go on theStar Warsride atDisneyland.”

“Ooh,” Simon murmurs. “It looks socool!”

“Where did you see it?” Lanceasks.

“On YouTube,” Simon says. “You can find just about anything onYouTube.”

Lance frowns up at me. “Maybe we better think about putting some parental controls on that tablet,” he mutters. “Since Mr. Smarty here apparently knows his way around theinternet.”

“Do you think wecouldgo on theStar Warsride sometime?” Simon asks, his voicehopeful.

I raise my eyebrows at Lance.Tell him, Imouth.

“I think we could,” Lance says. “Maybe like…nextweekend?”

Simon sits straight up in bed. “Are you forserious?”

Lance grins down at him. “Iamfor serious. Willa and I were just talking tonight about taking you toDisneyland.”

“That would be amazing!” Simon yells. “I’ve wanted to go to Disneyland for my entire wholelife!”

“All right, chill out a little bit,” Lance tells him. “Come on, lie backdown.”

“I’m supposed to go to sleep now?” Simon asks, and I crack up at the disbelieving look on hisface.

“You need your rest,” Lance tells him. “You have to help Willa plan the triptomorrow.”

“What about you?” Simon asks, his smile fading a little bit as he lies back against his pillow. “Aren’t you going to help planit?”

“Sure,” Lance says, and I wonder if he notices the look on Simon’s face. “But since the two of you are the computer experts I figure you’ll be doing most of thework.”

Simon grins against the pillow. “I’m good atresearching.”

Lance laughs. “I bet you are.” And then he leans down and kisses Simon on the top of the head. It happens so fast, and seems so natural, that I wonder if he even realized what he was doing. But the look on Simon’s face—the absolute contentedness—makes my chest ache. “Now go back to sleep, okay? We’ll talk all about Disneytomorrow.”