He seemed reluctant to cross the sidewalk separating the school yard from the road, even though in jeans and a T-shirt and hoodie he barely looked older than most of the high-school kids. I wanted to yell at him to get away from the school. Get away from me.

People stared, watching him and then me. I spotted Tina and her clones a few feet away. Tina was standing and looking around as if she was waiting for someone.

"Another new boyfriend?" Tina called when she saw me.

"It can't be. She's with the lesbian," one of Tina's groupies squealed.

"I liked it better when they ignored me," I said.

Ashley raised her middle finger without looking over.

Simon continued waving his arms. I lifted my hand to let him know I'd seen him and to stop his ridiculous gesturing. "I have to go see what he wants," I told Ashley, even though he was the last person in the world I wanted to talk to. "Do you mind? I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

"Uh, I guess not," Ashley said. "Things cool between you guys now?"

I ignored her and hurried down the sidewalk toward Simon, eager to get away from the people watching us. I hurried to cross the road, but when I reached him, I stopped.

"What?" I demanded, frowning at his expensive designer sungla.s.ses. Who was he trying to impress?

He grinned. "Hey. I haven't seen you in ages, and that's all I get? What?"

I clutched my lunch bag close. "What are you doing here, Simon? You're a little too old to be hanging around my high school."

His sungla.s.ses almost hid his hurt expression. Almost. He smiled again with regular voltage. "I knew you'd come outside for your lunch break. I'm on a break from work too. We're doing a house close by, so I thought I'd pop over to see if I could take you for lunch."

I uncrossed my arms and lifted my brown paper bag in the air. "I brought lunch. Grandma insists I don't waste my money."

He stepped toward me and took the bag out of my hand. "Throw it out. I'll buy you something hot and greasy."

I glanced behind me at the school. Ashley had disappeared. "Grandma will be p.i.s.sed if I throw out my lunch."

"Don't tell her. You don't need to tell her everything you do, you know."

I already knew Simon was good at hiding things.

"Come on, Jaz." He pushed the bag toward me. "Save it for later if you don't want to throw it out. I'll buy you McD's." He put an arm on my shoulder. "I'd really like to talk to you. It's been awhile." He squeezed my shoulder. "It's important."

I wanted to say no. I pressed my lips tighter.

"Please."

I grabbed my bag from his hand and wiggled my shoulder away from him.

He pointed to his car. His stupid yellow Beetle. "Come on. I'm parked illegally."

We were being watched. I had a couple of choices. Make a big scene and stomp away. Or, go and deal with him in private.

"Fine." I strutted to the pa.s.senger door, yanked on the handle, pulled the door open, and jumped inside.

I tossed my paper bag into the backseat as Simon climbed into the driver's seat. He started the engine without noticing. I hoped my lunch would rot and smell up his car.

"Thanks for coming," he said. "I'll make it a fast lunch and have you back in time for your next cla.s.s, I promise."

"Whatever." I pulled down the strap on my seat belt, buckling myself in and crossing my arms as he pulled away from the curb. Tina stared at us from the school yard as we drove away.

He drove past the high school and turned right at the light instead of left.

"McDonald's is the other way," I told him.

"I know. I thought we'd go to the one at the mall. The one by the high school's always so packed. Especially at noon."

"I have a cla.s.s at one."

"I said I'll have you back on time. Don't worry." He sounded p.i.s.sed off and drove for a moment before saying anything else. "So. How's school?" he asked, like it was an effort to be friendly.

"It's fine." I reached for the volume k.n.o.b on his stereo and cranked up the music, even though it was a CD of stupid hip-hop songs I couldn't stand.

He bobbed his head to the music, not even appreciating my intentional rudeness.

When we got to the mall, we went to the food court. Simon pointed to an open table and told me to save us seats. He headed to a line to order for us, and I stomped to the empty table and sat waiting for him, wanting to take off and leave him all alone.

A few minutes later he joined me, carrying a plastic tray covered with fast food.

"Big Mac, large fries, large c.o.ke?" he said, unloading the food from the tray. My standard order.

"You should have asked before you ordered for me," I snapped, just to be disagreeable.

"Oh." He looked upset. "Sorry. I just a.s.sumed since that's what you always get. I got a Chicken Grill. You can have mine if you want."

My fingers reached for the burger. "It's okay," I mumbled, feeling silly. "I don't want to wreck your diet. I know older guys like you need to watch what they eat."

He eyeballed his chicken sandwich and unwrapped it, ignoring my dig. "So, I'm worried about your mom. I thought you might be able to help."

The burger that hovered in my hand, poised for a bite, lost all its appeal. I dropped it in the wrapper on my tray. My appet.i.te vanished for good.

"Why are you worried about my mom?"

His eyebrows pressed together, and apprehension radiated from his dark skin. I had a vivid image of him pressing up against Lacey and wanted to reach across the table to smack him. Hard. To leave an imprint on that skin.

"She's. Well, she's acting really..." He struggled for a word. "Odd."

"She's really pregnant," I said. Did he really need to be reminded?

"I know. But it's more than that. I don't know what to do. She doesn't seem happy with me. With anything, really. And she's angry. Really angry. All the time. Man, I wish my mom was alive. I'd ask her these questions."

I wished Simon's mom was still alive too. Stupid cancer. I couldn't stand his wounded expression. I looked over at the table beside us. Girls younger than me giggled and flirted with a nearby table of boys. Middle-school kids probably skipping cla.s.s. I envied them.

"What do you expect me to do?" I asked, still watching the kids.

"I don't know. n.o.body knows her as well as you do. I thought maybe she said something to you when you went shopping. About why she's so unhappy."

My eyes narrowed. "She's pregnant, Simon. She has raging hormones, and she's gaining weight. You know how she is about her looks. It's probably normal for her to act grumpy."

His shoulders drooped, and he ran a hand through his tight black curls. "I don't know. I've talked to a couple of other guys with kids, and they said their wives were fine. I mean, moody and kooky when they were pregnant, but not like her. She's more...I don't think she's supposed to be like this."

"So? Are you asking for my permission to walk out on her? Because she's not acting the way you think a pregnant woman should act?"

His expression changed. He looked almost offended. "I'm not leaving her. I'm worried about her."

Raw emotion crept into his features, making him look older and troubled. There were new wrinkles under his eyes and bags, as if he hadn't been sleeping well. And his cheeks were drawn, thinner.

For an instant I felt sorry for him, the old Simon, the one I used to get along with. I remembered how he used to make me laugh. And the serious talks we'd had too. I stared at the table, remembering once when we'd been goofing around in the living room at home. Mom was in the kitchen trying to help Grandma make dinner.

He had pressed his arm up beside mine.

"We're almost the same shade," he'd said.

I'd bit my lip shyly and nodded. "I don't know anyone else like me," I told him.

"There's lots of people like you. Maybe not in Tadita but in other places. Lots, so don't you forget it."

I looked up at Simon. At his warm, caring eyes. He'd helped me, made me feel less alone.

And then the other memory flashed in my mind. The sight of him devouring Lacey. It made me feel sick. I glared at him, full of hate.

He deserved to be miserable. Maybe it was karma. Payback. I shrugged and took a bite of my hamburger, even though chewing it gave me as much joy as gnawing on leather. I choked down a mouthful.

"What do I know? I'm seventeen. I don't know how pregnant women act." I picked up my drink and slurped.

Simon shifted on his chair.

I wanted to add that I didn't know how expectant fathers acted either, but making out with younger women probably wasn't exactly normal.

He picked up his chicken sandwich but didn't bite into it. "G.o.d. I'm a jerk. I forget sometimes how you must feel about your dad. I, of all people, should get the dad thing." He pasted a grown-up, understanding expression on his face. "When my dad left us to go to England, I felt completely abandoned. Like yesterday's trash. Like it was my fault somehow that he would take off to another country and choose not to see his sons."

He put the chicken sandwich back down. "It's too heavy. I shouldn't have come to you with this. It's fine. Your mom is fine." He picked up his lunch, ripped off part of his sandwich with his teeth, and chomped.

"Simon," I told him slowly. "This has nothing to do with my dad or lack of. Trust me. And I really don't know how she's supposed to behave. She's having a baby."

"I know. Forget it. It's fine. She's just pregnant. I'm being stupid." He sucked on his straw, drinking his Diet c.o.ke. "I'm not leaving," he added. "In case you're worried. I love her. I'm not going anywhere."

I swallowed another bite of hamburger. It tasted like lumpy clay and hurt going down. I wanted to spit out the truth, to tell him what I'd seen. Him. With Lacey. I wanted to scream. Purge the ugliness from inside me. I opened my mouth.

"So. How's song writing?" Simon asked in a lighter tone, obviously trying to move on to a safer topic. "Written anything new?"

I held my breath, trying to force myself to tell him what I had seen. I opened my mouth and then closed it, hating myself. I wanted to tell him what I thought of it, of him. But I couldn't do it. Instead, I just nodded.

"What's the song about?" He reached across the tray and grabbed a handful of my fries, shoving them into his mouth. He wasn't as cool as he pretended to be. Mom said he only ate fattening food when something was bothering him.

I pushed the rest of the fries toward him. "Have them. I'm not hungry." I hoped he'd gain 20 pounds. In his gut. And lose all his hair.

"Well?" he asked.

"It's about betrayal. Inspired by things in my life." I dropped my burger for good. My fingers wrapped around my charm bracelet, and I tried to calm myself.

Simon shoveled fries into his mouth, still watching me. "Who betrayed you?" he asked. His frenzied chewing stopped.

"No one. It's nothing. Just teen stuff."

"You can talk to me." He smiled without showing teeth. "We're almost related, right? I'd like to help."

Beside me, one of the young girls snickered at something.

"No. You can't," I told him.

Simon leaned forward, his broad smile mocking the rage inside of me. "Of course I can. Some of us guys are good ones. Let's face it. You're stuck with me now."

Anger flushed my cheeks. Stuck with him and keeping his secret. I started to stand and Simon reached for me. Almost in slow motion, as if on its own accord, my hand lifted. Simon's smile turned into a puzzled frown. Then a loud bang like a gun being fired filled the air. My hand smacked against his flesh.

"Jaz, what's wrong with you?"

An old woman standing behind Simon gasped, but for a second I saw a flash of satisfaction in her eye. Simon's face registered shock, hurt, and disbelief.

We stared at each other, and then I spun around. My arm caught the corner of our tray. Food clattered on the floor, and the sound of it mixed with amused giggles from people sitting around us.

I ran. I raced out into the mall, afraid he'd be on my heels. When it became obvious he wasn't, I stopped. I dug inside my jacket pocket and grabbed my cell. Dialed. It rang once.

"h.e.l.lo?" said an impatient voice.

I glanced around. "Mom? It's me." Simon definitely wasn't following.

"Jaz? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I was just, you know, thinking about you."

"That's sweet. But I'm at work and busy. Is there something important you need to talk to me about?" She sounded annoyed.

I paused. "Not really." Every fiber screamed at me to tell her. "I, um, wondered how you're doing. With the pregnancy and all."

"I'm uncomfortable as h.e.l.l. If this baby even thinks about being late, I will reach up and yank it out of my body myself."

I made a face. "Mom. Gross."

She sighed. "Well, you asked. Did Simon ask you to call me? To see if I was okay?"

I didn't answer.

"d.a.m.n him. I told him not to."