Phil’s POV
Saturday was a day of hangovers and misery. I slept most of the day and mom wanted to know all about the boy I’d spent the evening with. I’d told her there was a get together at Tim’s and that I’d just crashed at his place after playing video games which was believable enough. She didn’t even question my stutter or my lack of eye contact.
Full faith that I was being honest.
And Danny—she recognized him at Church Sunday morning.
Immediately invited him over for dinner without even asking me which is so like her. Too friendly. And of course he accepted.
I . . . couldn’t say one thing.
Could hardly look at him.
I just kept thinking about the bruises hidden beneath my shirt, the marks of infidelity—is it infidelity if we’re not official? Were
