35
We were led to another waiting room, this one for the area where Renee would be staying. There were scattered tables with magazines, and the furniture was upholstered in that odd, slightly shiny blue-gray you only find in hospitals. I sat first, on the corner of a sofa. The allegiances manifested with Ben sitting next to me, and JD in the chair perpendicular. JD sat with his legs crossed, reclining so both arms rested on those of the chair. Ben was in perpetual motion, but finally paused, elbows on his knees, to speak.
“I guess you got that scar in a bar fight,” Ben said.
I’d wondered about JD’s eyebrow myself.
“Nope,” JD said.
“Yeah, right. And you didn’t break your nose that way, either.”
“I didn’t. Your mom broke my nose.”
“Bullshit,” Ben said.
“Oh, she didn’t mean to do it,
