four-centimeter tumor, and the cancer has spread to three lymph nodes near the armpit.”

She’s had enough bad luck!

Oh, Jace. I’m so sorry.

And Lila. Shit. “Will she be okay?”

“Yes,” he says stubbornly. “She’s going to have chemotherapy to shrink the tumor and surgery to

get rid of it. And we’ll all support her.”

He looks at Annie the longest. Tears run down her cheeks. She leaps from the chair and throws

herself at Dad. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. For everything. I love you. I’m sorry Lila’s sick. I’ll help. She’ll

get better.”

I hug him too.

I think of Lila sick in her bedroom.

I think of Jace curled up in anger and resentment on his bed.

“I love you,” I whisper. “I’m going to be there to support you.”

Dad drags my cup across the table. “Going to make some tea, were you?”

“Yeah,” Annie and I say together.

“Good. I could use some too.” He passes the cup to Annie. “You make it, love. You know how it’s

done.”

I scowl.

They sniff out a laugh.

goodletite

Jace avoids me for two weeks. He shuts himself in his room like Annie used to. He doesn’t

participate in dinners, and I don’t see him around at school—except once, when he had an arm around

Susan.

He needs some time to cool off. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.

Why doesn’t he come already?

The night of the dance arrives, and before Bert and Ernie arrive, I slip a folded note under Jace’s

door. I linger, crouched in the hallway, hand pressed to the wood for a few moments until I hear the

sound of footsteps and rustling paper. I’m about to turn away when the door creaks as if Jace is resting

against it. I lean forward, my head against the cool door too. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Sniff. I’m not certain but I think I hear a murmur. “Me too.”

“Jace, I—” The doorbell chimes, ripping me out of the moment. “Dammit.”

I curse Bert and Ernie for their punctuality as I go downstairs to let them in. We move to the

kitchen and I pull out three Cokes. Annie is pinning pearls to her hair. She swishes her poufy skirt and

tells us to have fun. She prances off.

Bert attempts to whistle. “Damn, I thought I had it.” He frowns and tries again but he gives up

when he fails the second time. “Your sister looks hot,” he says simply. Ernie doesn’t say anything but

his eyes had followed her too.

“Gah!” I cover my ears. Not something I want to hear.

Ernie drops a large paper bag onto the dining table as he claps Bert on the back. “Yeah, let’s give up

the wolf-whistling.” He jerks his head to me. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

Ernie and Bert wear matching black tuxedos sans tie, and shirts with wide fat collars. And they

think I’m not ready? My black pants and white shirt will do very well.

“I am dressed.” I set the Cokes on the table. “Drink?”

Bert looks at Ernie. “Guess you were right about him not being that type of gay.”

“What?” I start, and Ernie hushes me.

“Don’t worry, I’m not that type of straight guy, either. I picked something out for you. Put it on.”

He slides the paper bag to me. I steady a can before it knocks over. “Should be your size. Five-ten,

right?”

I peer into the bag and groan. “We’re gonna look like the Three Musketeers.”

“The Three Best-Dressed Musketeers,” Ernie says.

“It has a weird collar,” I say, pulling out the shirt.

“Wait for it,” Bert warns me, rolling his eyes.

Ernie asks, “Who are we at school?” I shrug. “That’s right. We’re nobody. And what makes us

stand out from the crowd?”

“Not much?”

“Exactly. Doesn’t matter how sleek our suits are because every other guy will look sleek too,” he

says, gesturing for me to hurry up. I pull off my shirt and slip into the fat-collared one. “To stand out,

we have to do the unexpected.”

“And these shirts are the way to go?”

“Hey, dude, you said it. Three Musketeers. Girls dig that shit.”

I laugh. I may be gay but I’m pretty sure girls won’t dig this shirt.

I wear it anyway. For laughs, and to keep Ernie placated. The rest of the suit feels smooth and silky.

I find the goodletite I had in my other pocket and slip it inside the jacket’s inner pocket. It creates a

slight bulge at my chest but it’s calming. I have a rare stone made of sapphire, ruby, and tourmaline; I’ll

be fine. Whispers can’t hurt me.

A wolf-whistle slices cleanly through the air. All three of us look up as Lila waltzes into the kitchen

with an amused smile and a camera. Click. Click. “Looking great, boys.”

Ernie puts an arm around me, and Bert poses for the camera.

“At least one of you looks excited,” Lila says.

To make things just a little better for her if I can, I join in with the posing.

She flips through some of the shots she’s taken. “Your dad’s going to piss himself when he sees

these. Now boys, the embarrassing part. You’re too young to have sex, so don’t. And make sure your

condoms aren’t expired. Trust me, that would not lead to a good time. Now to find that son of mine.”

She whisks out of the room and leaves us blushing.

“Dude,” Bert whispers. “Lila is way thoughtful.”

“And way hot!” Ernie adds. I throw him a look that makes him shirk behind Bert.

And way sick.

My chest suddenly feels tight. Jace is sniffing again.

We arrive at the dance an hour into it, which is great because the whole evening will be over and

done with much faster.

It’s everything I expect a dance to be: dark, flashing lights, terrible music. A group of couples dance

in the middle of the converted gym but the majority of us are hanging in the corners or sitting at the

tables. A few guys narrow their eyes in my direction and I sense their whispers in the air, but Ernie and

Bert shield me.

A group of young girls snigger at us, and Ernie shakes his head. “They wouldn’t be able to handle

all this anyway.”

Bert pulls out a flask he’s smuggled in and hands it to his friend. A good swig later, it’s passed to

me. “Nah, I’m good.” I lean against the back wall. “So this is it?”

“This is it!” Ernie repeats. “Do you see how short their skirts are? How full their racks?”

Bert sighs. “We’re never getting laid.”

“I repeat. This is it? Question mark.”

“All this and dancing as well.”

A fast, upbeat song launches an outbreak of grinding thighs and bumping hips. I’ve been scouring

all the faces since I got here for any sign of Jace. Jace and Susan.

“Aaaaand,” Ernie says, squaring his chest and facing me. “This dance is going to be epic.” He bows

slightly and extends a hand. “Cooper, will you dance with me?”

I snort and fold my arms. What is he doing? Is this some kind of joke? “That’s not funny.”

Ernie keeps his hand extended. “I’m not joking.”

I shake my head. “We can’t do that here.”

“Why not?” He drops his hand and turns to Bert. “Hey, want to show him how it’s done?”

Ernie leads Bert to the dance floor, and Bert twirls Ernie around. Ernie scowls and tries to spin Bert

but Bert’s too tall for him. They laugh and boogie some more. They’re touching—at one point they’re

even grinding—and they don’t care that people are staring. A few jerks mutter “fag,” and a few guys in

the corner stick a finger down their throat but more people are smiling than anything—

Jace.

Dancing with Susan, arms looped around her waist. His suit makes him appear older, like he’s a

future Jace. He’s everything I imagined he’d be—and more.

Susan runs her hand up the back of his hair, and I push off the wall, glaring at her through the

throngs of dancers. I might have been able to handle it. Might have been able to shrug it off.

Except that Jace smiles at her and whispers something in her ear.