“If I’m fine, you can be fine, Tuesday,” Francis murmured near her ear.
Tuesday nodded and held back a sob while watching the old Francis continue to shape the clay. She would always head to class to get an early start on her art. That was why Tuesday sat alone most mornings. Tuesday would drive to school with Francis and walk her to class before heading to the lobby to study her own art form.
A shuffle of feet sounded behind her, and Tuesday glanced over her shoulder to see Beck stroll in. He sat down at the table across from Francis, and she immediately looked up. Francis stood from her table and, with a bright smile, dropped down beside Beck.
“So, did you give Tuesday the note?” she asked.
“No…”
“You can play the guitar with a band on stage while girls ogle you, but you can’t even
