“Mom,” he said, “this is Josephine. She lives over at the highway.”
“Well, hello, Josephine.”
“Hi, Mrs. Brown.”
“It’s Ms. Brown, but you can call me Lily.”
Josephine glanced at Everett and lifted her eyebrows in a signal.
“Oh, right. Could you call Josephine’s mom and let her know everything is cool and that you’re here and we’re safe and stuff?”
His mom leapt toward the office phone, all eager energy now. “Absolutely!”
Did she think he didn’t have friends because Mikey didn’t come over anymore? She looked way too happy at the prospect of a new visitor. Josephine gave her the information, and they wandered into the apartment, ignoring the overly cheerful parental conversation left in their wake.
There wasn’t much to show off. A big living area with a drab kitchen that looked nothing like the kitchens in decorating shows his mom watched on cable. Though he supposed the space was “open concept.”
He wondered what Josephine saw. The beige couch was nicer than the one they’d tossed last year, but it wasn’t exactly stylish. Then again, they lived in Herriman. There weren’t a lot of apartments, but there was a big trailer park. It wasn’t as if Everett was the only poor kid in town.
Still, on Josephine’s street, the houses were two stories with little front porches. She probably had a real dining room with a chandelier. Maybe she had a big yard and a trampoline, and one of those—
“Aw man,” Josephine sighed. “It’s just an apartment. I don’t even see any hidden doors.”
“Well, they’re hidden, duh.” He heard his mom laughing on the phone and tipped his head toward his bedroom. “Come on. I need to feed my cat.”
“I’m not allowed to go into boys’ rooms.”
His skin blazed hot in a moment of embarrassment at the implication of what that worry implied, so Everett blurted out, “I’m gay,” before he even realized he might say it. “I mean . . . I’m gay.”
Her eyes went wide with the same surprise he felt over his sudden out-of-context declaration, so he stammered out an explanation. “I’m just saying that I’m not, like, going to try to kiss you or something. You don’t have to worry. That’s all I meant. It’s safe. To come into my room.”
Josephine laughed, a quick, loud bubble of amusement that popped in his ears, and for one single heartbeat, worry imprinted on him like a camera flash. Would she mock him? Tell him he was going to hell? Most kids around here went to church, though only their parents still cared about grimacing at the gays. And there wasn’t much to say, anyway. It wasn’t like he was old enough to go on dates.
Then her laugh turned into a sweet grin. “Well, I’m not gay. Aren’t you scared I’ll try to kiss you?”
The alarm he’d felt must have finally appeared on his face, because her smile softened into concern. “Hey, I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t do that.”
“I know. I mean, I don’t really know, but I didn’t think you would. Not because girls can’t start things, of course. Just . . .” He shook his head, unable to think of a single logical conclusion to that sentence. Because I trust you? He barely knew her.
But her shrug ended his stuttering thoughts. “Can I tell my mom? She’ll be much happier about us hanging out. She was a little tense. But I won’t tell her if you don’t want me to.”
“No, that’s fine. My friends know. And my mom. It’s not a secret or anything.”
“Good. Because my mom is super paranoid about boys.”
Teen pregnancy was the one thing his mom didn’t worry about, so Everett decided to be thankful for that small mercy. “Well, stand in the doorway at least. Mom doesn’t know about the cat, so if she comes into the apartment, give me a signal and keep her busy.”
“She doesn’t know about your cat?”
“It’s a stray. It stays outdoors. Mostly.”
He hurried over to put out the food, apologized to Shadow for cutting things short, and was back in the living room by the time his mom popped in.
“Can I make you two some cookies?”
Everett rolled his eyes at her, pretending he was suddenly too old for cookies. “We’re going outside. I’m going to show Josephine around.”
“Just stay out of Mr. Mac’s boat!” she called as they hustled toward the door.
He led Josephine through the RV area, pointing out the sports cars draped with car covers. Several owners had debuted their toys for spring, and all he could do was point to a blank spot of flattened weeds where a bright-yellow Porsche had once crouched. Mikey had been impressed with all this stuff, but Everett had no idea what Josephine must think. Maybe it just looked like he lived in a junkyard.