“Mr. Bridge…” I wanted to do something, say something to comfort him.
“David Mortimer’s not some isolated case, Shane. There’s one in every school.” That part I knew. Hell, if it weren’t for luck, I’d have been David myself. “Keeping all those made-up friends alive for my parents sake almost buried me. They became my cover, my reality.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me they weren’t true? Workaholism, and being a slut, and that religious guy?”
“I didn’t say they weren’t true, I just said the stories belonged to somebody else.”
“Then who did they belong to?” My voice took on an edge of disgust and I could feel myself wanting to bolt out of his house. I honestly didn’t know what he was trying to tell me. If he’d lied to me about all this, could I trust him at all?
“All those stories, all tho
