“I don’t know.” But I did know. I knew exactly who he was different from.
“You mean he’s not a d**k like Conrad?”
I laughed, and so did he. “Yeah, exactly. He’s nice.”
“Just nice, huh?”
“More than nice.”
“So you’re over him, then? For real?” We both knew the “him” he was talking about.
“Yes,” I told him.
“I don’t believe you,” Jeremiah said, watching me closely—just like when he was trying to figure out what kind of hand I had in Uno.
I took off my sunglasses and looked him in the eye. “It’s true. I’m over him.”
“We’ll see,” Jeremiah said, standing up. “My break’s over. Are you okay over here? Wait around and I’ll drive us home. I can put your bike in the back.”
I nodded, and watched him walk back to the lifeguard chair. Jeremiah was a good friend. He’d always been good to me, wa
