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climbing up to the platform just before the tallest slide on the playground. She followed without thought, handing him the paper sack as she crab-walked the last few feet to sit beside him. Both scooted until their legs dangled down below, as they had when they’d been children. He handed her the first burrito of her order while he got started on his own food.
    â€œWhy are you being so nice?” she wondered out loud, taking a bite.
    â€œWhat’s nice about this?”
    Neither looked at each other, preferring to stare off in the same direction instead.
    â€œYou went to Taco Bell, when you hate it. Your insults are weak at best. And you’re sitting here quietly, not commenting on how bad the food sucks or how I’ll get fat if I keep eating like this.”
    He spared her a baleful side glance. “Hasn’t seemed to make you fat yet. Guess I was wrong about that one.”
    That was definitely not a compliment. Not from Josh Leeman.
    â€œMaybe I’m keeping you off balance,” he said.
    â€œNo.” She swallowed another bite, then held out a hand for her next item, swapping the taco he gave her for the crumpled wrapper of the devoured burrito. “Really. What’s going on?”
    He swung his legs a little harder than he had been. “You’ve got hard times ahead. I don’t need to make it any harder than it will be. I like Herb. I hate what he’s going through. You and I might not be friends, but we’re not exactly enemies.”
    It had certainly felt like they were enemies in elementary school. “Remember when you tripped me while I was playing tag on the pavement, right over there?” She pointed to the area where two basketball hoops faced each other. The pavement had long since cracked and crumbled, with grass sprouting up in tufts.
    â€œAccident,” he said blandly.
    â€œWas not! I had to get three stitches in my lip.” She bared her teeth at him, showing off the thin scar she knew was still there on the underside of her bottom lip.
    â€œHow about when you stepped on my hand while I was climbing the rock wall?” he shot back.
    â€œAccident.”
    â€œBullshit. I couldn’t play Pop Warner for two weeks after that.”
    Carri smiled, thinking of the satisfaction she’d felt. She’d done it after hearing from Susan, who’d heard it from Thomas, who’d listened in while Josh told Greg S. that he wouldn’t have kissed Carri if she were the last human being on the planet and his only other option was a platypus.
    Carri had liked Greg S. at the time. And was pretty positive that the
I’d rather have the platypus
comment had sent him running.
    â€œFor not being enemies, we made each other pretty miserable as kids.”
    â€œAs kids?” he scoffed. “We’re still doing it. Miserable is a stretch, though. I’d say it was more pleasantly uncomfortable, at best.” He was quiet for a moment, then softly added, “My most vivid memories have you in there somewhere.”
    Her heart skipped a little. Casually looking at him when she reached for another soft taco, she took in his face for a moment while he was distracted. His hair was shorter now than the last time she’d seen him. Nearly buzzed, though it suited his face. His baby-blue eyes with their thick fringe of lashes—he’d despised them as a child—made an appealing package . . . if she were being impartial about the whole thing. And he’d definitely filled out, even from where he’d been in college, which had been pretty fit. Being the second-string quarterback still meant he had to be on top of his fitness, apparently. No slagging off, even if he’d never have the upper hand against a god like Trey Owens.
    â€œMaybe the bad memories.”
    â€œNot all. Like when the football team won state my junior year. I looked up in those stands . . .” He paused, his voice a little