Pete closed the astronomy book and started the long trek downstairs. The smell of blueberry pancakes had found its way up to the lofts, helping return him back to the world of the here and now. The reveries of the past were fine to visit on occasion, but one had to be cautious not to dwell there too long. The past had a way of wrapping its seductive arms around you and sapping you of your drive for future accomplishment.
At least that was what his father always told him.
Pete wolfed down the pancakes with the aid of a tall glass of milk. Sarah and Joel looked on in awe, each wondering, How can he eat so much and remain so skinny?
"So, what’s on the agenda for today?" Joel asked.
"I ownt ow," Pete gurgled through a mouthful of mush.
"Peter, swallow your food before speaking," Sarah attempted to scold.
Pete swallowed. "Sorry, Mom."
Joel poured orange juice from a glass carafe. "If you don’t have any plans, maybe you should think about calling Hector, see what he’s doing."
Pete’s stomach dropped as yesterday’s events flooded his mind with vivid images and crystalline sounds. Tiny pins pricked the insides of his nose, and for a moment, he thought he might actually cry—like he had cried in front of Russell—right there at the kitchen table in front of his parents.
But he held back the flow. He suppressed. He behaved as he was supposed to.
When his parents found out ten months ago that he and Russell had started hanging out with Hector Graham, they couldn’t have been more pleased, which was odd, because Hector’s reputation in Riley wasn’t exactly sterling. His mother’s was even worse. Some of the things uttered about Debbie Graham had no business coming from Christian mouths. But, apparently, Sarah and Joel were clueless of these awful rumors. Or maybe they had heard the gossip but had chosen to ignore it. Or maybe they’d heard but had chosen not to believe it, even though most of it was true.