Nolan's pizza was warm today, but it didn't really matter. He couldn't enjoy it.

Since discovering that he could eat outside, he'd glanced at the other tables maybe once or twice per lunch period, interest piqued when there was some sort of commotion—be it loud laughter or an irritated shout. Today, though, his gaze kept straying to Nora's table; to her, Andy, Max, and Erin as they laughed and ate. He hated that he wondered what they were talking about.

No unnecessary attachments. That was the decision he made after moving to Greeley. For the most part, this promise had proven easy to keep. Of course, Caleb had brought Sam into their lives, and despite her irritating nature, he decided she was okay, especially since she protected him from Johnny Parson, a little shit in their grade who had been bullying Caleb since they moved. But other than that? His circle of people had become Greg and Caleb. That was it. And he was fine with that.

Another glance at their table.

His decision to be alone had been made. So, was there really any danger in accepting Nora's job offer? Wouldn't it be worse to sit idly by while Greg dug himself deeper and deeper?

He could find another job—one that would keep him away from people. Something boring.

Laughter erupted from Nora's table. Max's hands waved in the air as he spoke, and the others curled in on themselves, flushed as they laughed. What were they talking about?

Nora turned, and her eyes caught his. She smiled and waved. He forced himself to do the same, and turned back to his pizza.

He couldn't take the job.

✝

"Bacon!"

"Caleb, we had breakfast for dinner yesterday."

"Bacon!"

Nolan sighed and grabbed the half-eaten pack of bacon from the refrigerator. The eight-year-old had been obsessed with the stuff for the past two weeks, since he went over to Sam's house and they had breakfast for dinner. It was as though he'd never had bacon, eggs, and waffles before.

"I'll make the waffles!" Caleb said, tearing open the freezer and snatching a box of chocolate chip Eggos, also half-eaten.

"Try not to burn them this time," Nolan said.

"That was the toaster's fault."

"Mm-hmm."

They grinned. As Nolan placed bacon strips on a pan, Caleb tossed two waffles into the toaster. When the waffles had disappeared, Caleb sidled himself to Nolan's side. He was practically jumping with excitement as Nolan set the bacon in the oven.

"Did you adjust the temp?" Nolan asked.

Caleb froze. "Shoot!"

He scurried back to the toaster; eyes narrowed as he studied the temperature knob. "Uh..."

"Level three," Nolan said.

"I knew that."

"Sure you did."

Caleb moved the dial from level five to level three. Why Greg liked his toast pitch black, Nolan would never know.

"When is Greg coming home?" Caleb asked.

Nolan glanced at the clock over the oven. "Twenty minutes."

"Just in time to eat bacon!"

He would actually still have another ten minutes to wait before the bacon would be ready, but Nolan didn't bother telling them that. Instead, after shutting the oven, he dropped himself on the couch, opened his laptop, and headed to Google.

He needed a job within walking distance. He couldn't risk asking Greg for a ride, and spending his paycheck on a cab would defeat the purpose. But he swiftly found that there weren't many jobs in his area, and those available required experience or at least two references—neither of which he had.

At least with Nora, he could pretend he was just interested in making friends again. Greg would think he was just hanging out, opening up, "getting back to life."

Maybe he could start up his YouTube channel again? When his parents were alive, he'd been pretty active in the YouTube community, and had loved it.

No. Not only would he not be entertaining by himself—at least, not anymore—but that channel held too many memories. So many of those videos were of him with his family. His parents...

He shut his laptop. But physically banishing the idea wasn't enough to stop his mind from hitting replay on images he didn't want to see. His mom's eyes...

The front door opened, and he looked up. "Hello, hello!" Greg called, his voice distant.

Nolan hopped up from the couch, and Caleb scrambled up from where he'd been sprawled on the floor for the past fifteen minutes, to eat his waffles and read a paperback from school.

"Hello!" Caleb shouted as they emerged from the hall. Greg stood near the doorway, kicking his shoes off onto the floor. He gave Caleb and Nolan an exhausted smile and opened his arms. Caleb hugged him.

"How was everyone's day?" Greg asked.

"Fine," Caleb and Nolan said in unison.

Greg's eyebrows rose. "You copying him?" he asked Caleb.

Caleb shifted, and Nolan's eyebrows creased.

"It was fine," he said. "Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Johnny was just a little mean," he continued, rubbing his arm. "Sam made him go away, though."

Greg's eyes clouded with worry. "I should really call the school..."

"No!" Caleb shouted. "I'm okay. I promise."

"Caleb..."

"Please."

Greg sighed. The bruises under his eyes seemed to have deepened since the beginning of this conversation. "Okay," he said softly.

Caleb sagged and wrapped his arms around Greg's waist. Greg patted him on the back, and Caleb ran off, back to the living room.

The moment he was gone, Greg's shoulders drooped, and he all but collapsed into a chair at the table. "I don't think I'm going to class tonight," he said.

Nolan crossed his arms over his chest. "Isn't psych your favorite class?"

Greg shrugged. "Yeah, but today's...well, today's been a day." He put on a grin. "I'm thinking of taking next semester off."

"What?"

"Or, actually, just putting a pause on college for now." He shrugged. "Just for now."

Just for now.

College was the one thing Greg did for himself. The one thing. And he loved it. Nolan could see it in the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his classes. It was the one place where he could be his age. And he wanted to take it away?

"Don't look at me like that," Greg said.

"Like what?" Nolan asked.

"Horrified."

"You don't need to leave school," he said. "Just quit one of your—"

"We're not talking about this again." Greg's voice and eyes hardened.

"Just—"

"No, Nolan." Greg stood. "You're not getting a job, alright? You don't need one."

"Yes, I do."

"No. You don't." Greg sighed. "We're okay, okay? Don't worry."

With that, he trudged down the hall, into his bedroom. The door shut.

Nolan's jaw locked as he jammed on an oven mitt and yanked out the batch of sizzling bacon. Don't worry. Yeah, right.

✝

It might have been easier if Nolan just waited until lunch to find Nora, but he couldn't. He needed to do it now, before he changed his mind and everything fell apart.

There was just one problem: besides the general deduction that she was probably in the Junior wing, he had no idea where she could be. And the Junior wing was already a stretch. For all he knew, she had an elective first period.

Still, he headed up the stairwell that opened into one of the two Junior hallways. If he didn't find Nora, maybe he would happen upon Andy or Max. Maybe even Erin.

No such luck. Funny. They popped up when he didn't want them to, but the second he needed them, they were nowhere to be found.

He was about to give up when he passed by Mr. Sison's class. He paused, two steps from the door, and glanced back. Mr. Sison was standing by his desk, talking to another student, and there were at least seven others already there. Did he really want to stand in front of the class and ask his teacher where he could find a girl?

"Don't worry."

He curled his hands into fists, turned around, and headed into Mr. Sison's classroom.

The guy Mr. Sison was speaking to looked at Nolan curiously as he returned to his seat. Great. Already being stared at.

"Nolan!" Mr. Sison said. "What can I do for you?"

Nolan tightened his grip on his backpack and stepped up to Mr. Sison's desk. "I was wondering if you know where Nora is," he said. His voice was soft, nearly a whisper, but it felt as if the volume had been turned up to fifty.

"Oh, so not seeking my deep well of wisdom, huh?"

"Guess not."

Mr. Sison chuckled. "I believe you'll find her in ceramics complaining about ceramics."

"Thanks."

"Any time."

Nolan hurried out of the room and to the third floor—the home of the art department. He had about ten minutes before he needed to be back on the second floor for physics. He could swing it.

As Mr. Sison predicted, he found Nora in the ceramics room, at one of the two large tables. She looked away from Erin as he approached. "Nolan?" she asked. Was that apprehension in her voice?

He hesitated. "Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

She smiled. "Yeah, of course." She turned to Erin. "Guard my pinch pot with your life."

Erin saluted. "I'd offer you mine if it breaks, but mine looks even worse than yours."

That was saying something.

Nora followed Nolan out into the hall. Maybe he'd imagined her apprehension. She seemed as happy as ever as she leaned against a poster about how art would change the world. "You taking me up on my offer to eat lunch with us?" she asked, wriggling her eyebrows.

Should I? "No," he said. "Sorry."

She waved his apology away. "Totally fine. So, what's up?"

"I..." He faltered. "I wanted to accept your job offer."

Her jaw slackened. Something flashed in her eyes, so swift he couldn't make out what it was. "Oh," she said.

"Is it not still open?" he asked. "I understand if it's not." Please, no. He couldn't be too late.

"Of course, it's still open!" she said, and tension released from his shoulders. "We'd have to meet right after church on Sunday. Would you be okay with that?"

No.

Greg had to go to work after he dropped Caleb off at church on Sunday. That meant that if Nolan wanted to catch up with Nora and her friends afterward, he'd have to actually attend the sermon. And he couldn't do that. Wouldn't.

But...

"Yeah," he said. "That's fine."

She smiled. "Great! I'll see you then?"

She held out her hand. He shook it. "See you then."