~ * * ~
“Jack,” Mrs. Ramirez, standing at the kitchen sink, turned to me in surprise, “You’re up early.”
“It’s a school day,” I shrugged.
“I know, but I assumed…” she bit her lip, unable to finish her sentence.
Her train of thought was obvious, Nicky’s funeral had been the day before and she believed I needed time to recuperate, but what I really needed was to be out of the house. School wouldn’t remind me of Nicky, the house did. It was as simple as that.
“See ya later,” I mumbled as I left the kitchen, uncharacteristically skipping breakfast.
That day set the tone for the following weeks. I walked around like a zombie, going to classes, doing my work, avoiding eye contact as well as any other type of interaction with anyone, on the surface not that much different from my normal behavior.
Below the surface I felt dead, the small glow I’d always felt deep inside of me fed by Nicky’s presence in my life totally extinguished. I was an empty shell.
I seriously pondered suicide, even going so far as to figuring out the best method. I knew where Tony kept his guns and with my former training by the Shaws could easily have gained access to one, but Mrs. Ramirez believed that Nicky was in heaven and if I ever wanted to see him again, I would have to get there somehow.
Suicide was, to paraphrase her, a one-way ticket to hell and although I was pretty sure my chances of getting into heaven were slim I wasn’t going to risk my slim chance becoming no chance at all by doing something guaranteed to keep me out.
There was also the promise I’d made to Nicky that I would be okay…even more than that…a superhero. I’d never felt less like one in my life. I couldn’t save anyone else…I couldn’t even save myself.
I was able to make it through each day by simply going through the motions, lifeless and uncaring, and then I stumbled into a situation that brought me out of my stupor and gave me something to hold on to, to look forward to…a way to keep my promises to Nicky.
“I told you I wanted an A on that paper,” a menacing voice broke through the haze that protectively surrounded my brain as I stood in the doorway of the boys’ bathroom. “I got a C.” I heard papers rustling.
“And I told you the teacher would never believe you wrote an A paper,” a nasally voice whined. “Getting a B is even stretching it. I can’t get caught cheating for you.”
“Oh now I hope you didn’t just call me stupid.”
I recognized the voice: Grady Bryant, class bully extraordinaire. Although there were many like him at school, he was the head honcho of bullies. He had avoided me since I started boxing, only picking on kids who couldn’t or wouldn’t defend themselves, choosing his times carefully to ensure I wasn’t around, so I hadn’t seen him in a while.
Although we were about the same height he had at least twenty pounds on me—he relied on his size and buddies as his tools for intimidation—however, he knew from a previous, slightly bloody encounter that I had skills he couldn’t hope to match and steered clear of me for the most part.
My choices were obvious; confront him or back out of the bathroom before anyone noticed me. I mentally shrugged, the decision already made.
“I’m simply saying that your grades don’t support…” the nasally kid just didn’t know when to quit. Apparently, Grady thought the same thing.
“I’ll show you ‘don’t support’,” he threatened.
His words made no sense, but his lackeys snickered encouragingly.
As I rounded the corner I saw the kid, Freddie Lawrence, being held captive by Grady’s two newly acquired thugs—I didn’t know their names—while Grady ripped what was obviously the detested C paper down the middle, releasing the pieces and allowing them to drift slowly to the floor.
Leaning against the wall in what I hoped appeared to be a relaxed, casual pose I folded my arms across my chest and clicked my tongue at him in disapproval.
“Littering,” I shook my head regretfully, “Shame on you.”
Grady started in surprise.
“This is none of your business, Knight,” Grady growled at me, recovering quickly. “Get lost.”
“Oh I think littering is everyone’s business,” I contradicted mildly. “So if you don’t mind…” I indicated the discarded pieces of paper on the floor with a wave of my hand.
“If you’re so worried about it, pick them up yourself,” he sneered.
“Make a deal with you,” I said amiably. “You and your friends let the kid go and I’ll clean up the trash.”
I figured Grady wasn’t smart enough to realize I wasn’t referring to the paper trash. I was right.
“Lawrence is fine, aren’t you Lawrence?” Grady glanced at him warningly.
The kid nodded nervously casting me a pleading look, his eyes begging me to stay.
“See,” Grady said expansively, “No problems here, now am-scray.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I replied calmly.
I wasn’t going anywhere; I felt more alive than I had in a month. I was ready for whatever was going to happen, but I wouldn’t be the one starting it. I never did…not physically anyway.
“Then maybe you need a lesson in keeping your nose out of other people’s business,” Grady took a threatening step towards me.
I didn’t move.
Grady paused, indecision clearly written all over his face. He knew he couldn’t handle me alone, he had unsuccessfully tried that once before, but if he brought his two goons in on it they would have to release the kid.
I figured he wouldn’t be able to resist the 3 to 1 odds and would choose me, hoping for payback from the last time.
Once again, I guessed correctly. Grady wasn’t hard to figure.
“Let him go,” Grady was looking at me but speaking to his sidekicks.
“But…” one of them began to protest.
“LET HIM GO!” Grady yelled, not taking his eyes off me.
Freed, Lawrence would have sped past me out of the bathroom but I grabbed his arm and, bending down, careful to keep my eyes on the three thugs, whispered out of the corner of my mouth “Get the principal.”
He nodded, wide-eyed, and high-tailed it around the corner and out the door.
I didn’t know how good my chances were against all three—two were unknown quantities and Tony had taught me never to underestimate an opponent—and I had no intention of fighting to the death or unconsciousness, whichever came first, so I thought it prudent to call for back-up. I knew I would be in just as much trouble as the ‘bad guys’—it always happened that way no matter what the provocation, the principal generally unconcerned with who started it—but as usual, I didn’t care.
For the first time in a month, my mind was alive and alert as Grady’s two strong-arms made their way warily in my direction. Grady was too smart to put himself on the front lines, opting to wait until the others subdued me before coming in swinging, so I turned my attention to the two immediate problems. As long as I kept my back to the wall, I wouldn’t have to worry about Grady sneaking up behind me.
The guy on my right was about Grady’s size, but most of his weight was fat with very little muscle. One punch would probably send him crying into the corner. The other one was smaller but seemed to have more muscle and looked tougher. If I kept moving, I could take the bigger one out quickly and then be able to concentrate exclusively on the one that might give me more trouble, all the while keeping an eye on Grady.
I shook my head in amazement at how easy they were to read, transmitting their punches so clearly it was laughable. Both of them were cradling their right hands—if those were their writing hands they were certainly going to need someone to do their homework for them for a while—and cursing loudly and fluently when the principal and vice principal walked in. I had to admit I was surprised at the size of their vocabulary.
Grady, of course, was nowhere to be seen.
“What’s going on here
,” Principal Murphy demanded. Noticing me for the first time, he asked resignedly “What did you do to them?”
“Never laid a finger on ‘em, sir,” I replied truthfully.
“That son of a…” the smaller one broke off realizing to whom he was talking.
“He broke my hand,” the larger one whined, carefully lifting his limp appendage for display, tears streaming down his face.
“Let me see,” the principal non-too-gently examined the hand which probably did have a couple of fingers broken judging by the loud cracking noise I had heard earlier.
“How did he break your hand?” Vice Principal Newton asked curiously.
“He…he…he made me hit the wall,” he cried petulantly.
“He made you hit the wall,” the vice principal repeated carefully keeping his face expressionless.
“Vice Principal Newton, why don’t you accompany these two young men to the nurse and I’ll deal Mr. Knight,” Principal Murphy suggested mildly.
“If you will follow me, gentlemen,” the vice principal requested courteously taking his cue from his boss and leading the other two out of the bathroom as he continued, “I’m sure the nurse will be able to…” his voice fading in the distance.
“I think we can find a more comfortable setting for our little chat,” the principal offered pleasantly. “Shall we retire to my office?”
Nodding, I silently led the way out of the bathroom.
The hallways appeared deserted except for a few teachers patrolling for stragglers as we made our way to the main office. Mrs. Brent, the secretary, smiled at me as I passed her desk and I nodded in acknowledgement. I was a familiar sight.
“Have a seat, Jack,” Principal Murphy invited, seating himself behind his desk. I sat. “So,” he continued conversationally “I suppose I would be wasting my breath asking what happened?”
“They seem a bit klutzy to me,” I commented casually. “Perhaps they had an accident.”
“I’m not asking how Grady’s henchmen broke their hands,” he smiled slightly “That part seems fairly self-explanatory. I’m not even asking where Grady disappeared to, he seems to have a built-in radar as far as I’m concerned, but I would like to know who Grady was trying to bully. His grades have made a miraculous jump from failing to solid C’s and B’s over the past few months since the counselor warned him he would be repeating eighth grade next year for the second time at the rate he was going. In view of the fact that I noticed one of his papers lying on the bathroom floor ripped in half, I’m assuming this has something to do with his sudden rise to brilliance. I’m guessing perhaps he wasn’t too happy with a C…?”
Principal Murphy was perceptive as well as observant. I wondered why he hadn’t thought to detain Lawrence when he had reported the incident in order to ask him since Lawrence would have been the obvious choice.
Reading my face correctly he added, “And in case you’re wondering, a girl came rushing into the office to report a fight in the boys’ bathroom then exited just as quickly before the secretary had time to ask her name, so…” he paused, eyeing me without much hope.
I apparently needed to work on my poker face, or maybe he was just better at reading people than most.
“Maybe they’re afraid of Grady and getting caught cheating,” I suggested with feigned indifference.
Lawrence obviously had common sense to go along with his brains. He must have figured he would have been ‘made’ if he had personally reported the fight in the boys’ bathroom…smart kid.
“Well, if you run across anyone who fits that description perhaps you could pass along a message for me,” the principal said nonchalantly. At my nod, he continued, “He…or she…would have our thanks as well as whatever protection we can provide if he…or she…came forward. There would be no penalty for being coerced into helping someone else cheat; only if they were doing it for monetary gain.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe that was why Lawrence hadn’t wanted anyone to know; he was getting paid for it. Discarding that idea—I had an inkling that Grady never paid for anything if he could help it, bullies seldom did—I decided that Lawrence was probably just concerned with the type of retribution Grady would dish out once he discovered who had snitched on him. He was smart enough to figure out that it was unlikely anyone would be around to help him the next time
“No problem,” I acknowledged, attempting to rise.
“Not through with you yet,” the principal waved me back into my chair. “I also don’t suppose it would do any good to ask you to stay out of other people’s…issues.”
At my stone-faced silence, he sighed and continued. “I thought not. Since you didn’t technically do anything punishable this time, by their own admission those two idiots hurt themselves, I’ll let you off with a warning. One of these days, Jack, you’re going to run up against a situation you can’t handle and…” he shrugged.
I got the point.
“Cross that bridge when I come to it.”
“You could get seriously injured.”
“My choice; victims aren’t given that luxury.”
“You’d make a damn fine Marine,” he murmured thoughtfully “and if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it.”
“Thank you, sir,” I replied, an unfamiliar feeling warming my insides for a brief moment.
Everyone knew Principal Murphy had been a Marine during the Korean conflict and was rumored to have won the Silver Star—he was certainly tough enough—but he wasn’t telling and no one had the guts to ask.
“Here’s a note for your teacher to get you into class,” he handed me a slip of yellow paper. “And Jack,” he stopped me at the door, “Try to stay out of trouble for the rest of the day.”
I didn’t respond. As I exited his office, I realized he hadn’t expected anything else. I wasn’t given much to making empty promises, and that would have definitely qualified as one.
He’d put an idea in my head, though…the Marine Corps. The whole concept appealed to me. If Principal Murphy was anything to go by, the corps was comprised of strong, intelligent, fair-minded men.
Semper fidelis…always faithful; the idea definitely had merit.
1974
How could you be so stupid? I asked myself in disgust, taking in the dozen or so angry faces surrounding me. I recognized all of them…not a good sign.
“He’s here,” the kid I had been following ran straight up to Grady Bryant and sniffled as he wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve “can I have my dog back now?”
“Frankie,” Grady called, eyes glued on me. “Give the whiny kid his dog back.” I recognized Frankie as the shorter and more muscular kid who had broken his hand in an attempt to punch me the previous year. There was no sign of the other guy, he must have wised up and distanced himself from Grady or maybe his parents had done it for him. “Now get lost kid before I decide to cook the mutt and eat it.”
No one had to fill me in on the agenda of the motley crew in front of me…I knew; it was feeding time for the wolves and I was the main course. To say I was in trouble was a vast understatement.
I stayed quiet, evaluating the situation. Obviously, Grady had set me up, luring me into the alley, knowing I wouldn’t be able to turn down a kid being pushed around.
Although I never went looking for trouble, I couldn’t walk away from it either, and my penchant for “butting in” had spread to the point where picked-on kids came in search of me for help.
Forcing myself to remain outwardly calm, unwilling to give in to the sudden tension I could feel building in my stomach, I knew I had to think…think…think…
No way would I be able to take on all of them and I seriously doubted whether more than one or two, if any, could be persuaded out of participating. That left me very little to ponder and none of it pleasant.
“So, Knight, I’m sure you remember everyone,” Grady was practically licking his lips.
“Hmm…” I murmured innocent
ly “Bully convention in an alley, how original. All the good hotels booked?”
“You won’t be in any shape to make jokes in a few minutes,” he sneered. “See you’re the main topic of this convention,” he replied, grinning evilly. “We all got together and decided you needed to be taught a lesson. You’ve been interfering with official bully business and none of us appreciate it.”
Glancing around, I noticed the nodding approval of Grady’s words. Taking a closer look, I realized that there were basically only four ringleaders, the rest were the enforcers, the ones who always did the dirty work. That reduced the number I had to worry about to eight instead of the original twelve. 8 to 1…better, but still not good odds. Granted I had taken care of each one of them at one time or another…just not all at the same time.
As the circle started to tighten in on me, I began rolling up my sleeves as nonchalantly as I could manage noting casually “I may not come out of this one unscathed, but I have to wonder if any of you will be in any better shape when it’s all said and done?”
“Get him,” Grady yelled as the circle paused for a moment, some of them no doubt remembering what had happened the last time we tangled. The others were probably just wondering what unscathed meant; brains didn’t seem to be a prerequisite as far as thugs went.
As the ring of bodies closed in on me, I began throwing punches right and left, connecting to jaws, stomachs, anything I could find to hit, constantly on the move, but I knew I was eventually going to be fighting a losing battle.
Two guys were on the ground, but there were still six more plus the four leaders.
Realistically, I knew I would tire and then the wolf pack alphas would pounce. Even as I acknowledged the thought, one kid managed to land a punch to the left side of my head causing me to see stars while another slugged me in the kidney area from behind, jerking me backwards in pain. There were just too many of them coming at me from all directions…I could feel my body weakening as more and more blows found their mark.
Dimly, in the background, I heard shouts of “Who do you think you are?” and “Hey you, butt out.” Twice I heard Grady practically screaming, “Get him you idiots.”
What is he talking about? I wondered fuzzily, beginning to punch thin air more often than connecting with body parts. They are getting me.
Almost miraculously, it seemed, there were multiple bodies on the ground writhing in pain. Did I do that? I asked myself in amazement as I noticed another one approaching me. I raised my fists, ready to continue punching, one eye partially closed and the other one a bit blurry.
“Hey, hold up there, I’m on your side,” the short, Asian boy put his hands up as if surrendering, grinning from ear to ear, his dimples vaguely familiar.
He, however, didn’t look familiar, and although I was fairly certain he wasn’t one of the original twelve, I had a suspicious nature.
“Why?” I asked a tad belligerently.
“I think we should get out of here before the four head honchos convince all of the others to get off the ground and come after us,” he suggested, ignoring my question as he took off quickly down the alley towards the street.
“Okay,” I agreed cautiously as I trailed after him, more than happy to leave the area.
I wasn’t sure how I had escaped death or at the very least permanent maiming—I must have been doing better than I thought—but I considered it prudent not to hang around and try my luck again. As soon as we hit the street, the boy seemed to be in a hurry.
Keeping up with his shorter stride easily, unsure what kept me by his side, I demanded, “Who are you?”
He didn’t slow down but said apologetically “Sorry, but I’m late and my parents are gonna to be steamed. I’m Shun.”
“Where’d you come from?”
“We just moved here from New York City, that’s where my dad was born. My haha’s from Japan, but I was…”
“I mean I didn’t see you before the fight started and then suddenly you were there,” I interrupted rudely, trying to determine if he was another Grady trick.
He didn’t appear to be one, but neither had the kid with the dog. I had been guilty of underestimating an enemy. Apparently, Grady was smarter than I’d given him credit for, a mistake I was determined not to repeat.
“Oh, that,” he replied breezily. “I heard the kid begging you to help him get his dog back and thought I might be able to help. Seems I was right,” he laughed to himself.
“Help…?” I repeated incredulously. “You could have gotten hurt. Those guys eat little kids like you for lunch,” I said contemptuously, but at the same time feeling oddly protective.
“You should never judge a man by his size,” he grinned impishly.
“Man?”
“Hey,” he objected, “I took out my half of the bad guys and without blood,” he added immodestly. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m at least as old as you are…maybe even older.”
“Older than me…?” I replied skeptically, he barely came up to my shoulders.
“I’m fifteen,” he offered, “Here we are. Don’t say anything about the fight, okay? My haha gets a little bit…nuts…about stuff like that. She doesn’t speak much English but she understands the word fight.”
“So how do I explain the blood?” I asked, indicating the stains splattering my white shirt and thinking Mrs. Ramirez was going to have a cow when she saw it. “And my eye…what the heck’s a haha?”
“My mom, and don’t worry about the blood and cuts, get it…blood and cuts instead of guts…I got it all under control,” he said confidently as he pushed open the door of an empty storefront with a newly painted sign hanging from a post out front that read Suzuki Martial Arts.
The place was a mess, obviously a work in progress, with workmen installing mirrors on almost every wall and a handful of people painting whatever wall wasn’t covered by the mirrors.
As soon as Shun was inside a woman turned from her painting and began spewing some language, presumably Japanese, at him. I assumed it was his mother and he was right, she was steamed.
After a few minutes of discussion, she finally calmed down enough for Shun to introduce us. I heard the word Knight and realized that Shun might think that was my given name since he must have heard Grady calling me that.
“I’m Jack…Jack Knight,” I offered helpfully.
“Sorry, I just assumed…” he shrugged apologetically. “This is my haha.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said politely.
“Like I said, she doesn’t understand much English so just bow like this,” Shun demonstrated, “and smile,” he added.
“Bowing I can do,” I acknowledged, imitating Shun as best I could as I bowed to his mother, “smiling not so much.”
“That’s okay, I smile enough for both of us,” he laughed.
“True,” I agreed wryly.
“Come on back and meet my pop,” he offered, moving quickly towards the back of the store.
“Wait,” I tried to stop him but he had already disappeared through the doorway.
As his mother shook her head in despair and returned to her painting, I followed him cautiously, stepping around the paint cans and various tools scattered on the floor, unsure what Shun was doing. Although we’d just met, he was acting like we were long lost friends…strange. Maybe he had taken a couple of punches to the head; that would explain it.
Standing there, staring indecisively into a hallway at three opened doors, I wondered which room held the disappearing Shun.
“Hey Jack, over here,” Shun’s head popped out of the doorway to the right long enough to direct me then disappeared inside the room again.
That was when it hit me, the perpetual grin, the dimples, and the whole optimistic outlook on life…Shun reminded me of Nicky. I stood frozen in shock, realizing that was why I hadn’t been able to just leave Shun and go my own way, why I had felt strangely protective. I’d been involuntarily drawn to the similarities my sub
conscious had noticed.
“Come on,” Shun once again poked his head out, retreating just as quickly.
Shaking my head in consternation at Shun’s inexplicable behavior, I approached the room where his head had disappeared and entered a different world.
1975
“That Selena girl is staring at you again,” Shun said around the hamburger he was chewing.
“Let her,” I muttered disagreeably sinking my teeth into my own hamburger.
“Girls aren’t so bad, you know.”
“Yeah so you keep saying,” I replied dismissively. “Are you gonna eat…?”
“Knock yourself out,” he pushed his plate full of fries towards me. I scooped them up and dropped them onto mine. “I eat junk food whenever I want.”
“Lucky you,” I responded dryly, squeezing ketchup all over the fries and picking up my fork.
“Hi,” a female voice said from behind me.
I didn’t bother to answer or look up from my plate as I shoveled food into my mouth. Shun would handle it. He always did.
Hey,” Shun replied as his foot nudged my leg under the table.
I glared at him briefly before returning to my fries.
As the girls moved to stand beside us, I discarded the fork, and began picking up the ketchup-covered strips with my fingers, dropping them into my mouth.
I would have wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve but the habitual black t-shirt that I’d begun to sport ever since the Grady incident in order to hide any possible blood splatters I might acquire during the course of the day didn’t have any sleeves. I settled for leaving whatever ketchup had landed on my face right where it was.
Let’s see how they like slobs, I thought with satisfaction.
“I’m Selena, and this is Stephanie and Keliss,” Selena continued. “You’re Shun, right?” she asked, mispronouncing his name.
I stifled a snort at the irony of her mistake. I was the one who shunned and was shunned by people, not Shun.
“That’s Shun, pronounced like moon but with a ‘sh’ at the front,” Shun corrected grinning cheerfully. “It means speed in Japanese.”
I quickly turned my amused snort into a cough.
You are not going to bring out that tired, lame old line are you…you little show off, I silently scoffed at him.
“Ask him his last name,” I mumbled around the fries in my mouth.
There was the nudge again, but harder, bordering on a kick.
I narrowed my eyes at him, threatening retribution later for the bruises he was inflicting on my unguarded shins. Shun looked totally unconcerned, which was understandable since I spent most of our matches picking myself up off the mats.
“Last name…?” Selena repeated uncomprehendingly.
“What is your last name?” Stephanie asked curiously, speaking for the first time.
I was beginning to think the other two’s tongues had been cut out. I paused from the inhalation of my fries, technically Shun’s fries, and stared thoughtfully at my plate.
Not a bad idea, might have to try that with Shun, I decided, that might shut him up. Nah, I dismissed the idea in amusement adding, he’d just learn sign language or some other method of communication and still be just as annoying.
“I am Shun Suzuki,” he said with dignity.
“Suzuki…? My cousin has a Suzuki,” Keliss finally spoke, the excitement in her voice obvious. “You were named after a motorcycle?”
“A fast motorcycle,” I agreed solemnly.
Again, I felt the kick under the table, harder than the last two. I didn’t even bother to glare at him, focusing exclusively on my plate, trying to hide my amusement.
“No, stupid,” Stephanie scorned “his family obviously owns the motorcycle company. It’s his last name.”
“I’m not stupid,” Keliss objective angrily. “I…”
“Anyway,” Selena interrupted the argument abruptly and turning her back on Shun faced me determinedly. “And you’re Jack…aren’t you…Jack Knight?”
“Yeah, he’s Jack,” Shun acknowledged. “What can we do for you three lovely ladies?”
Shun is so full of it, I thought in exasperation, furtively rolling my eyes at him before returning my attention to the few fries left on the plate.
“Well, Stephanie’s parents aren’t going to be home this weekend,” Selena began enthusiastically, “so we’re having a party and we were kinda hoping you two might be able to come.”
“We’re busy this weekend,” I said curtly.
“Oh,” Selena said deflated. “I see. Well if something happens to your other plans and you change your mind or anything…”
“We’ll let you know,” Shun finished for her. “Thanks for the invite.”
“Sure,” she replied uncertainly. “Well, I guess we’ll see you later.”
“Great,” Shun replied enthusiastically.
The girls moved out of earshot and Shun’s smile uncharacteristically disappeared.
“Hey, what gives?” he asked in annoyance. “We’ve never been invited to a party before.”
“If you want to go…go,” I said brusquely stuffing the last of the fries in my mouth.
“I didn’t say I wanted to go,” he protested. “What’s up with you? It’s just a party.”
“With no parents,” I pointed out “Which probably means drinking, smoking pot, maybe even some hard core drugs.”
“Yeah maybe, but we don’t have to do any of that stuff,” he frowned. “Besides my parents would kill me first and ask question later if they ever even suspected I was doing anything like that.”
“Do you know how I lost my parents?” I asked as unemotionally as I could manage.
“In a car accident,” he replied, obviously confused.
“We were coming back from vacation. My…brother…” I stumbled a bit as memories washed over me bringing the accustomed pain. “My brother and I were sleeping in the very back while my parents kept switching off with the driving. My dad needed to be home the next day for something so they ended up driving all night. It was around three in the morning, and we were almost home, when a car jumped the median and hit us head on. The high school kid was drunk, apparently coming home from a party very much like the one we were just invited to,” I finished dully.
“I didn’t know…I didn’t mean to…” Shun stammered.
I shrugged. “I didn’t see any need to tell you…until now.”
“No problem,” Shun shuddered. “No party.”
“Thanks,” I said standing and picking up my tray.
“I’ll see you after school?” he ventured a bit tentatively.
I nodded.