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ugly mug for another week.” When Damon looks up at me he asks, “Any physical contact?”
    “As in sex?”
    Damon shrugs. “I don’t know, you tell me. Was the old girlfriend waiting on your front stoop when you got home yesterday?”
    The urge to laugh gets caught in my throat. “Hardly. My sister hugged me, my dad shook my hand, and I got a few pats on the back from my mom’s random friends last night.”
    “Did you initiate it?”
    “No. You’re creeping me out, man.”
    “Caleb, some guys have attachment problems when they get home. They have a hard time understanding what physical contact is appropriate and what—”
    “I touched a girl,” I say, interrupting.
    Click. “Tell me about it.”
    I think back to last night, when Maggie tried to stand. The fierce pain she felt was emphasized by her clenched teeth, balled fists, and furrowed eyebrows. Since I’ve been home, Maggie has been the only person I’ve actually reached out to touch. It hadn’t gone well.
    “A girl needed help getting up, so I tried to steady her. End of story.” Well, sort of.
    “Did she thank you?”
    I hesitate, then pick up a rock and chuck it all the way to the baseball field on the other side of the park. “She yanked herself out of my grasp. Isn’t that what you want to hear?”
    “If it’s the truth.”
    I turn and give him a look. He knows I’m not fuckin’ with him.
    “Maybe you were too rough.”
    “I was not too rough,” I say harshly.
    “Who was she?”
    I reach around and massage the persistent knot on the back of my neck. If I don’t answer, Damon’ll probably show up tomorrow and every day until I spill the beans. What’s the big deal anyway? I glance at the old oak, half expecting to spot Maggie sitting there, her expression wary and angry.
    I look over to Damon who’s still waiting for an answer.
    Then I finally say it. “I touched the girl who I went to jail for maiming.”
    Click.

ten
    Maggie
    “Are you okay?” Sabrina asks.
    I’m sitting on the floor in front of my locker at school, figuring out which books I need to bring with me to first period. First days of school are always hard to adjust to after a summer off. I’ve had a whole year off. I look up at her and say, “Yeah, except I’m dreading Mrs. Glassman’s trig class.”
    “So you’re not freaking out?”
    “I hear she’s tough, but I can—”
    “I’m not talking about Glassman, Maggie. I’m talking about Caleb being in school today. Duh!”
    I lose the grip on the book I’m holding. “What?”
    “He’s in Meyer’s office.”
    Wait. One. Minute. “I heard he wasn’t coming back to school.” Mom told me this morning; she heard it at the diner.
    “You obviously heard wrong, ’cause Danielle saw him.”
    I peek down J Hall.
    “I thought you said seeing him was no biggie.”
    Um . . .
    Brianne runs down the hall, heading in my direction. “Did you hear?” she says when she catches her breath.
    “She heard,” Sabrina says, her hand on her hip. “But she says it’s no big deal. The girl has serious denial issues.”
    Forgetting my locker, I shove the mass of books inside. I’m still sitting on the hard tile floor, but don’t trust myself to stand without making a bigger scene.
    To make matters worse, now Danielle is walking down the hall with five people flanking her. She’s deep in conversation, probably relaying the story of the year.
    And it’s only the first day of school.
    Too bad I didn’t get the packets for Spain in the mail yet. I need something positive to focus on today. Because seeing Caleb—again—is a big deal. The biggest. And I can do nothing but sit here and play the unaffected girl. The affected doesn’t do so great playing the unaffected. At least when it’s me.
    “There she is!” Danielle’s excitement makes everyone crowd around me. I wish I could snap my fingers and make them all disappear. Or make me disappear. I liked it better when I was invisible.
    “So, what’s the