CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SHELDON
“Marcus and I were friends.”
The words were spoken casually. Mena was applying tanning lotion on her arms beside me, at the hotel’s pool. No one was paying attention to us. It was nice. For once, I felt normal. For once, I felt like everyone else. For once, I let myself breathe. Things would be fine.
Then Mena spoke, and I frowned. A little girl ran giggling past me. Her mother was fast on her heels and she swept her baby up, saying, “Oh, you. You think you’re such a little sprinter, don’t you?” There was a mixture of relief and amusement in her voice.
For some reason, that made me smile. I didn’t know why, but I would remember this moment, years later, and wonder why that detail stuck out to me.
“What did you say?” I asked Mena, shielded my eyes with my h
