“Yeah. He’s on some top-secret mission. Needs me to tell Mom not to worry.” I gave a harsh laugh. “And needs me to be less of a dumbass, but what else is new?”
“You did screw up pretty spectacularly.” Jasper shook his head like he was admiring the wreckage of my life.
“I did,” I agreed mournfully. “And now I need help.”
“So you said.” Jasper paused, gaze dropping to my phone, almost as if he expected Bruno to emerge from it, special forces gear and all. “And I can’t believe I’m going to say this—”
“Please.” My eyes squished shut as I did some major-league bargaining with the universe.
“My help is worth something. What you’re asking for, it’s not five minutes of work—”
“I know. I’m not asking you to do it for free.” My head did a ridiculous bobble as I tried to will him toward a yes. And paying him would be hard, but I’d make it happen. Anything to avoid disappointing Bruno yet again.
“Good. Because I might have a proposition for you.”
Relief coursed through me, so swift and overwhelming that my eyes stung from more than the cold. I had no idea what he was going to ask for, but I was going to do my damnedest to give it to him, even if it sucked.
Chapter Three
Jasper
Milo looked like he was in serious risk of passing out right there on the frozen asphalt behind the game store. I hadn’t seen him that upset since freshman year of high school when we’d had our last real conversation—a fight that had left me in a billion pieces. I’d shattered exactly like a rocket we’d worked on once, a freak collapse destroying days and days of work, except that time it had been years of friendship crumbling.
* * *
“I don’t get why you can’t sit with us.” My voice had done the wavering thing I hated on the walk home from school. I’d left school alone, Milo popping up two blocks into my trek, all cagey about why he hadn’t been at the lockers like usual.
“Because the team sits together.” The team. God. I was already sick of hearing about the soccer team and definitely sick of Milo’s reverent tone when he talked about his teammates. “I may be JV now, but Coach says if I keep working, I’ll be the first freshman to make varsity. I need to be one of the guys right now.”
“But you were one of us.” He’d sat with our crowd all through middle school and the first part of freshman year. Sure, the school was bigger, but we’d had the same core friend group for years now. We talked about our favorite games and complained about our least favorite classes, same as always, even though we didn’t have many classes other than lunch together. But then he’d gone and made the soccer team, and everything had changed. I hated it.
He bit his lip, tongue darting out to soothe where his teeth had been, making my stomach do flippy things even as I knew I wasn’t going to like what came next.
“I’m not a gamer. Not really. And I’m not gunning for honor society and math team like you guys. Coach says I’ll probably get a scholarship somewhere even if my grades aren’t all that. I’m just not a…”
“Nerd,” I finished for him. “You don’t want to be seen with the nerds.”
“No!” Milo squawked, but something about his protest rang empty. “I can message you.”
“Message? Like, why can’t you talk to me at school? Or hang out at our houses like always. I don’t get it.” Coming to a stop at an intersection, I pivoted on my heel, staring him down, daring him to tell me I’d been imagining his weirdness lately.
“I don’t think you should come over because… You know. You went to that meeting. The one for that club.” He’d gone paler now and his voice was faint.
Heck. I never should have told him about that. I’d built it up to this huge deal in my brain the first part of the year, but then I’d finally gone on a day when Milo had had practice after school, and it had been totally fine. “The rainbow alliance? That one? There were like maybe fifteen people there—”
“But other people noticed.” Milo’s face had gone pale, lending a sickly cast to his skin. He looked like he had after we’d ridden that huge roller coaster last summer, right before he puked up his guts. But unlike then, I had zero sympathy.
“You mean your jock friends noticed. And now you can’t be seen with me?”
“It’s not about what my friends on the team might think,” he said, even though it undoubtedly was. “My parents might find out too. My dad… Never mind. It’s nothing. Maybe everyone will just get over it.”