Page 27 of Second Story

“Additional support?”

“Possibly. He’s extremely academically able. Less so socially. It’s a shame he’s isolating himself again after doing so well. All we can do is keep being open with him. Keep letting him know that we’ll listen, although the end of the spectrum he might be part of often comes with shutting down in high-stress situations. That’s called overwhelm. If you notice him seeming too overwhelmed to get involved today, remind me to mention it to the padre.”

It’s nice that she thinks I’ll still be here by the end of the day and not on my way back to London. For now, I get busy working my way around tables to hear children’s stories, and despite my nerves, time flies all over again as they empty their envelopes to share the contents with me.

If I don’t get a job here, I’ll remember this session of getting to see kids look forward, even if my gaze keeps getting drawn to the two people in this courtyard who can’t do that yet.

Lenny sits close to Tor at the same table where an auburn head bends over an envelope. I don’t get a chance to ask Noah what is inside his. He hurries off as soon as I approach, then posts it into the time capsule tote box.

No.

He drops it as if it’s too hot to hold onto, then backs off in a hurry.

That’s a reminder of me backing through a willow curtain. The big difference is that it sounds as if Noah doesn’t have anyone to follow him or to trust with the worries Ruth described.

I had Joe to lean on.

Anger should flood me next. That’s all I had left after Lenny sank into silence. Finally getting that kiss has clarified it was me who got that ball rolling.

Joe had no choice.

What was black is now white, and I’m still conflicted when a ringing school bell means it’s time to tell my story.

Part of me wants to let my brother know that his version of a hero will be there to listen. The rest of me pictures Lenny doing the same as Noah, and I can’t risk him withdrawing even more when Joe leaves straight after.

It’s a no-win situation.

I’m gruff when I let Lenny know where I’ll be for the next hour. “Draw something for me while I’m busy. Go ahead. Pick something to show me later. I’ll be back when the next bell rings.”

He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. His doe eyes say plenty.

I crouch beside his bench so I have to look up to him for once. It’s only fair—he looks up to me so often. “Do you want to leave something behind here?”

He nods.

I take a guess. “Wintergreen?”

He nods again, and out of nowhere, his eyes well. I scoop him into my lap, close enough that I hear his hitching whisper. “Not Mum.”

This is the sort of confession that usually chokes me. After yesterday, I try to channel someone who was there for me when I needed. Joe always looked for other options for us. It’s guttingto realise it was me who cut off that lifeline.Me who cost us the one and only person who helped us to tread water.

I can’t un-see that truth, so I settle Lenny back at the bench, aware that Noah hasn’t only returned. He listens to me suggest something else Lenny could leave behind for good, I hope. “How about the cockroaches in our last place in Wintergreen?”

That gets Noah’s attention. “Wintergreen?”

“You know it?” Ice-chip eyes meet mine, but he nods, so I open up like Ruth said might help him. “I’m doing my best to get my brother out of there for good.” I draw a black insect. “You could draw some of these, Len. Fill up a whole page of them to leave behind. Or draw something else. It’s all good.”

Lenny grabs a silver Sharpie, and I fully expect a repeat hero to fill his sheet of paper. The knife he sketches instead? It slides between my ribs. “Yeah. You can leave knives behind here.” He looks up again, solemn and silent as I tell him, “I’m sorry that man scared you.”

Noah meets my eyes as soon as Lenny is absorbed again in drawing, his own gaze a touch less frosty, so I keep being as open with him as Joe was with me under that tree. “He saw a knife fight. If I get a job here, he won’t have to see another. Just need to convince the headmaster.”

Noah makes a surprising offer. “Want me to tell him what it’s really like there?”

I catch a glance of Ruth making akeep goinggesture.

“You could definitely sit in, if you wanted.”

That’s how I end up outside the library with a student and with the only other story I have left to tell here, despite owning a van full of other titles. Even if this scrapbook isn’t full of Lenny’s scribbles like Joe suggested, it is full of everything asked for by Luke Lawson, who is surprised to see Noah.

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