Even after Darian moved farther down the table, Stacy still felt the weight of his hand on his shoulder. “Stop by when you’re done,” Darian told him, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the senior side of the cafeteria. “Most of the other students are over there already. Maybe you’ll see someone you know.”
Stacy doubted it. Or rather, he hoped against it, because the only kids he’d known in school were assholes who thought his name was funny and liked to pick at him until he erupted. Sharing a classroom with any one of them again would ruin his summer. If he saw someone? He’d quit, simple as that. Anyone he went to school with, anyone at all. Well, not an upperclassman like this Jodi chick or a teacher he had like Mrs. Barrett but someone from his own grade, someone like Jonatha
