Page 15 of Eleanor & Grey

Those were the only words I could think to say. When he started down his porch toward me, my heart started doing cartwheels in my chest, and it beat faster and faster as he approached.

He did that slow-motion hand-through-his-hair move again, and my heart somehow both stopped and sped up at the same time.

“You’ve been watching her for a while?” he asked.

“Yeah, a few months.” My hands were clammy. Why are my hands clammy? Can he see the guilt all over me? Can he tell that I’ve been thinking about him? Does he smell my fear?! Oh, gosh, are my elbows sweating? I hadn’t even known elbows could sweat!

“I used to go to church with her when she was younger. She was the best part because everything was so structured, and when it was quiet, she’d just scream, ‘A clue, a clue!’, quoting Blue’s Clues, then she’d run to the front of the church and just dance.”

I snickered. Sounded like the Molly I knew and loved.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, and rocked back and forth in his Nikes. “But that’s not where I know you from. I figured it out the other day.”

“Oh? And where’s that?”

“The Sherman Cancer Clinic.” His smile kind of evaporated while my heart kind of cried. “I’ve seen you there a few times, coming and going.”

Oh.

Well, that was awkward.

I went to the Sherman Cancer Clinic with my parents whenever Mom was having chemotherapy appointments. For the longest time, Mom didn’t want me to go because she thought it would upset me, but honestly, I felt more upset not being there.

I didn’t say a word.

“Are you sick?” he asked.

“No. I’m not.”

He crinkled his nose. “Is someone you know sick?”

“Um, my mom. She has breast cancer,” I breathed out, and the moment the word cancer left my lips, I tried to suck it back in. Every time I said it, my eyes had a way of watering over.

“I’m so sorry, Eleanor,” he said, and I could tell he meant it because his eyes were so sincere.

“Thanks.” He kept staring at me as my stomach flipped over and over again. “Is someone you know sick?”

This time, he grew uncomfortable.

“He was. My grandpa. He passed away a few weeks ago.” His eyes did something I didn’t know Greyson East’s eyes could do: they grew sad.

“I’m so sorry, Greyson,” I said, and I hoped he could tell I meant it by looking at how sincere my eyes were.

“Yeah, thanks. Everyone keeps saying he’s not in pain anymore, but I don’t know. I just feel like he left some pain behind for me to take on.” He brushed his thumb against the base of his jaw, and I was stunned.

Greyson was sad.

Really sad. That was shocking to me because I never noticed his sadness when I looked at him before. To me, he just always seemed like the free-spirited popular kid who everyone loved.

Turned out popular kids could be sad, too.

Greyson shook off the grimaced look and smiled. “So, I’ve been thinking…we should hang out.”

He said it so casually, as if the idea of us hanging out wasn’t insanely absurd.

I laughed sarcastically to cover up my nerves. “Yeah, okay, Greyson.”

“No, I mean it. We should hang out.”

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