“I feel worse for Noah than for Pickett,” I said. “You’ve always empathized with that kid,” she said. “Even when you can’t with your best friend.”
I shot her a glance and she laughed it off, but I knew she wasn’t kidding. “So, what do your parents do?” I asked. Daisy laughed again.
My dad works at the State Museum. He’s a security guard there.
He likes it, because he’s really into Indiana history, but mostly he just makes sure nobody touches the mastodon bones or whatever.
My mom works at a dry cleaners in Broad Ripple.” “Have you told them about the money yet?”
“Yeah. That’s how Elena got that college fund. They made me put ten grand in it.
My dad was, like, ‘Elena would do the same for you if she came into some money.’ Like hell she would.”
“They weren’t mad?” “That I came home one day with fifty thousand dollars? No, Holmesy, they weren’t mad.”
Inside the arm of my coat, I could feel something seeping from my middle fingertip.
I’d have to change the Band-Aid before history, have to go through the whole annoying ritual of it.
But for now, I liked being next to Daisy. I liked watching my warm breath in the cold.
“How’s Davis?” she asked. “Haven’t talked to him,” I said. “I haven’t talked to anyone.”
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