Finally, she sat on my bed.
“Do you remember the year your father left?”
The question caught me off guard.
“He’s my best friend.”
“What does Dad have to do with prom?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are we talking about him?”
“Because there’s something that happened that year.”
I folded my arms.
“What?”
Mom looked toward the floor.
“You were 12.”
“I know.”
“You stopped eating lunch.”
My arms slowly dropped.
“How do you know that?”
“Because there’s something that happened that year.”
“Noah told me.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
“He found me one afternoon.”
“Where?”
“In the school parking lot.”
Something in her expression made the room feel suddenly smaller.
“He caught me crying in the car,” Mom admitted.
I sat beside her.
“Mom…”
“He found me one afternoon.”
“I thought nobody saw me.” She rubbed her palms together. “But Noah did.”
