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Lifting an eyebrow, she shook her head slowly. “I’m not gonna tell you what todo.”
“Good.”
“But blaming him for Degan’s death might hurt worse than facing thetruth.”
“I thought you weren’t gonna tell me what todo.”
“I lied.” Her generous smile belied her words. “Dani, you’ve always been like this. You fly off the handle—or fly to a different country, unafraid to leave but afraid tostay.”
I stared at her. “I have no idea what you’re talkingabout.”
Guess maybe I lied sometimes too. As usual, she called me on it. “You dotoo.”
There was no way that I was ready to deal with any of this. Trent. Degan. Suffering. My body hurt, and my stomach muscles ached from crying. I crossed my arms. “How am I supposed to deal with him in my class all summer? I just got this job. I don’t want to leavealready.”
She sipped her water and waved at me with a fork. “If you need some motivation, I threw down to get you this job. You can’t leave because it would make me lookbad.”
“This is true. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” I munched on a strawberry. “I’m trapped when I’m around him. He pulls me in, and I can only see him. He distracts me from being a teacher. He distracts me from being myself. I can’t handleit.”
“That’s because he triggersyou.”
“He does. It’s embarrassing, but he turns me on. That kid who used to hang out with my brother belongs in a calendarnow.”
“I saw. He does. That banging body makes himdelish.”
“No it doesn’t. It makes him a soldier. Someone into the establishment. Into fighting. Not mytype.”
“What is yourtype?”
“Nothim.”
Lulu searched my face with skeptical eyes. “You’re the one who always says that the opposite of love is not hate, but conformity, my little nonconformist friend. I think you’re hating him with some pretty strong passion. Maybe you really like him. Maybe you just need to getlaid.”
I spit-laughed. “Are youserious?”
She nodded. “You know it’s true. I wish he wasn’t a student, but these circumstances are different. Maybe no one has to know.” She bit into the melon and hummed. “This is sogood.”
“Iknow.”
Pausing with a cup of coffee in her hand, she looked me up and down. “You need a break. Think about something other thanhim.”
“I hate it when you’reright.”
“I always am. Come on. Let’s finish this up, get you showered, and we’ll go see a movie. Get your mind off ofthis.”
Seeing movies was our thing, ever since college. Back then, she and I singlehandedly kept the local theater that played foreign films in business, trying to understand them without reading the subtitles. It was our book club. Now that we were back in the same country, we saw two a weektogether.
As we cleaned up the dishes, I asked, “What are weseeing?”
“A love story.” She handed me a cup to putaway.
I set it in the cupboard. “I hate lovestories.”
She handed me another one. “You lovethem.”
“Not afterBrian.”
She raised an eyebrow and gave me two plates. “This is true. If Trent hadn’t delivered the news about Degan, would you likehim?”
