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answer her quickly, not wanting her to feel she has to go into more detail.
    “I’m okay,” I reply, feeling guilty that she seems disappointed I didn’t call her. I thought she was pretty clear with what happened between us. I hope she is, anyway. “Did you um . . .” I look down at my feet and sigh, unsure how to bring it up without sounding like a complete asshole. I shift my weight from one foot to the other and look back up at her. “Did you want me to call you? Because I thought what happened . . .”
    “No,” she says quickly. “No. You thought right. I just . . . I don’t know.” She shrugs and looks as though she already regrets this conversation. “Holder, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve been hearing rumors and I’d be lying if I didn’t say they have me worried. I felt like I made that day at your house all about me, and I never even thought to ask you how you were holding up at all.”
    She looks guilty for even bringing up the rumors, but she shouldn’t feel that way. She’s the only person all day to actually make an active effort to ensure the rumors aren’t true. “I’m okay,” I assure her. “Rumors are rumors, Amy.”
    She smiles, but doesn’t seem to believe the words coming out of my mouth. The last thing I want her to do is worry about me. I wrap my arms around her and whisper in her ear. “I promise, Amy. You don’t need to worry about me, okay?”
    She nods, then pulls away from me, looking nervously down the hall to her left, then to her right. “Thomas,” she whispers, excusing the fact that she pulled away from me. I smile at her reassuringly.
    “Thomas,” I say, nodding. “Not at home helping his dad with yard stuff, I guess?”
    She purses her lips together and shakes her head. “Take care, Holder” she says, turning to walk away.
    I put my things in my locker, then head to the cafeteria. I walk in several minutes after the cafeteria has filled up with people, and at first it’s like any other day at lunch. But once people begin to spot me as I make my way to the table where Daniel is seated, the voices drop entire octaves and eyes can’t seem to mind their own business.
    The amount of drama I’ve witnessed today is comical, really. Everyone I pass, even people I’ve been friends with for years, all seem to think if they don’t quietly watch my every move, they might miss the moment that I completely break down and lose it. I hate to disappoint them, but I’ve got a pretty good handle on things today. Nobody’s going to be losing it, so they might as well go back to their regular routine.
    By the time I actually reach the table, the entire sound of the lunchroom has dropped to a dull murmur. All eyes are on me and I seriously wish I could tell everyone to go fuck themselves. But that would be giving them exactly the meltdown they want, so instead I keep my mouth shut.
    The one thing I don’t do, though, is tell Daniel he can’t say what I’m wishing I could say. I look him straight in the eyes as I approach the table and we have one of our quick, nonverbal conversations. A nonverbal conversation in which I give him the go-ahead to release any pent-up frustration he might still be harboring.
    He grins mischievously and loudly slaps his palms down on the table. “Holy motherfucking shit!” he yells, climbing up onto his chair. He gestures wildly toward me. “Look, everybody! It’s Dean Holder!” He proceeds to climb on top of the lunchroom table, pulling all the attention away from me and placing it on himself.
    “Why is everyone staring at me ?” he yells, motioning with huge, exaggerated gestures toward me. “We have the Dean Holder here! The one and only!” When only a few people look away from him toward me, he throws his hands up in the air like he’s disappointed in them. “Come on, guys! We’ve been anticipating this moment for two weeks now! Now that he’s finally here, you all decide to shut the hell up? What’s