Then back to me.
“About Ethan.”
My stomach tightened.
“What about him?”
“And about me.”
She sat on the edge of my bed.
Then said:
“I owe both of you the truth.”
ETHAN AND I BECAME BEST FRIENDS BECAUSE WE BOTH HATED RAISINS
We were six years old.
Our first-grade teacher handed everybody those tiny red boxes of raisins during snack time.
I was trying to hide mine beneath a napkin when the boy beside me whispered:
“That’s smart.”
I looked over.
He was doing exactly the same thing.
“You hate raisins too?”
“They’re old grapes.”
I considered that.
Technically—
he had a point.
“Old grapes are disgusting,” Ethan said.
By lunch, we were best friends.
Dinosaurs made it permanent.
Ethan knew an absurd amount about them.
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