Page 61 of Taking Sides

“Thanks.” I glance down. “It feels weird to accept condolences when I barely knew her.”

“Seems like all the more reason,” he says.

My chest tightens. “Tell me about your parents.”

“They’re in Washington. Married for thirty years. Dad is a software engineer, and my mom is an event planner.”

“Really?”

He nods.

“Like weddings?”

“Yeah, and birthday parties, bar mitzvahs, retirements . . . you name it.”

“Did you have the coolest parties ever as a kid?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles softly. “I think my classmates came to my birthdays just for that reason.”

“You were always shy?”

“My mom says I was the life of the party at preschool, but as long as I can remember, I was quieter than my peers.” He dips his chin in a small nod. “I had a stutter and about a million other really uncool traits that didn’t make me very popular. Then middle school happened.”

Sympathy sweeps through me for young Conrad. Followed quickly by rage. I’ve seen firsthand how mean kids can be. Especially in groups. Individually, they’re generally decent humans, but together they can be real pricks. Not that adults are any better.

“Girls were mean to you?” I guess. If so, I bet they are regretting that decision today.

“Girls. Boys. Everyone.”

“Want me to track down all of your classmates and kick their asses?” I ask, batting my lashes sweetly.

Conrad barks out a laugh that makes my insides light up. “Maybe you’re more like your brother than I thought.”

“Your friends were funny,” I say as Conrad and I get back to my place. We both have early mornings, so I waste no time kicking off my shoes and undoing the button of my jeans. I walk backward down the hall, leading him to my room.

“They liked you too,” he says as he pulls his shirt over his head. All that lean, defined muscle makes my heart rate kick up another notch.

My phone rings from my back jean pocket as I’m unzipping. I pull it out and check the screen. Victor.

I freeze, like my brother can see me through the unanswered call.

“Do you need to get that?” Conrad asks.

“No.” I silence it and shake my head. “It’s just . . . my brother. I’ll call him back tomorrow.”

Conrad’s gaze darts to the wall where Victor’s jersey hangs. I really should have moved it out of view.

“Do we need to talk about it?” he asks as he kind of squints at the jersey like he hopes it disappears when he fully opens his eyes.

“No.” There’s nothing to say. He doesn’t like Victor and Victor doesn’t like him. What else is there?

He doesn’t look convinced. I’m not sure I am either, but I’m not ready for this to end yet. I’m just starting to really get to know him. And him hating my family feels like a deal-breaker if this thing goes from casual and fun to something more.

“I like you. I think you like me too.”

“I do,” he says without hesitation.

“Then maybe let’s just focus on that.” I reach for him, hooking a finger in the waistband of his jeans and tugging until he takes a step toward me. “It doesn’t have to be a big thing. We’re just . . . having fun.”