Phil is . . . he’s acting funny.
At lunch, he was evasive, sticking close to Casey, laughing with Diana—avoiding me completely. It was . . . weird, I think. I noticed the way his eyes kept shifting over toward Tim then back to me, then down to the table. Like a weird triangle, expression one of anxiety. What the hell?
Then, after dinner, I was literally putting on my shoes to head over Phil’s house when I heard his voice. Frowning, I’d leaned back against Violet’s bedroom door, listening. He was in her bedroom and they were talking. About what? I grimaced, about to throw open the door when the door opened quietly and I found myself staring down at him.
He looked . . . disheveled, panting like he’d just run a marathon.
What the hell?
“Theo, hey.“
My fir
