mean?”
“The adults are doing everything.”
“Yes.”
He frowned.
“That sucks.”
I almost laughed.
“Ethan.”
“What?”
“That’s the point.”
He stared.
“You were not supposed to become Lily’s case manager.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He rolled his eyes.
Teenager restored.
Good sign.
Then:
“What can I do?”
“Ask Lily.”
He hated that answer because it meant she might say:
Nothing.
But he did.
Lily’s answer surprised him.
“Walk to school with me.”
He blinked.
“You have rides.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because everyone stares when I wear the wig.”
Ethan
looked confused.
“But they know it’s yours.”
“Exactly.”
That had become another problem.
Students whispered.
Some called it romantic.
Some called Ethan a saint.
Some treated Lily like a symbol.
She hated all of it.
“I want one person next to me who doesn’t make it weird.”
Ethan nodded.
“I can do that.”
And he did.
