Page 7 of Second Verse

Norah worked hard to push down the smirk that was trying to take position on her face as she left the playground andfed Freddie a fruit bar. But only out of propriety. In her heart, the smile was allowed to be as big as it wanted to be—because Poppy wasn’t so perfect.

Twenty Years Ago

Poppy was in Norah’s tiny, cluttered bedroom. That was weird thing, numero uno. Numero dos was that she was looking at Norah’s half-finished graphic novel, her slender guitarist's hands flicking through the pages. She’d just picked it up off the desk without asking. For Norah, it felt like someone had walked in on her in the shower. But what was she gonna do, rip it out of her hands?

After a minute, Poppy looked up. ‘This is cool.’

‘Oh,’ Norah said, surprised. ‘Is it? It’s not.’

‘It is. The drawings are unreal.’

Norah told her face not to evendareblush. ‘Thanks,’ she said, trying to sound casual.

‘The central character is cute. Kind of looks like you, actually,’ Poppy observed casually.

Norah didn’t have a single response to that.

‘How does it end?’ Poppy asked, putting it down.

‘I don’t know yet,’ Norah admitted.

‘Well, when it’s done, I wanna read it.’

‘It’s more of anifthan awhen,’ Norah admitted.

‘What’s the problem?’ Poppy asked casually.

‘Umm...’

Poppy shook herself. ‘Sorry...’

‘No, it’s fine. I just... I think the hamster has fallen off the wheel,’ Norah said.

Poppy’s eyebrows flew up. ‘What?’

‘It’s something my dad used to say...’ It still felt weird to use the past tense about him, but Norah tried to shake that off. ‘It means something about not running at full function.’

‘Oh. Yeah. I get it. But I mean, you wouldn’t be, would you? Running at full function. When I...’ Poppy stopped. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to talk about this.’

‘No, go on. Say what you were gonna say,’ Norah prompted.

‘You sure?’

‘Might as well,’ Norah shrugged.

‘OK. Well, whenmydad died, I wouldn’t get out of bed for about two weeks. My mum did everything to entice me. She even tried to drag me out once. I bit her.’

‘How old were you?’

‘Ten.’

‘That’s a horrible time for that to happen,’ Norah observed.

‘There’s nogreattime to lose a parent,’ Poppy shrugged.

Norah was amazed at the way Poppy was talking. Everyone else tiptoed around this subject, and it made Norah feel like she should stay quiet on the subject, too. But Poppy was just talking about it like it wasn’t a forbidden topic but simply a thing that happened.

‘What caused it?’ Norah found herself asking.

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