I didn’t answer. I just closed my phone.
Glenn walked past our row, then, his gym bag over his shoulder, gave me a small nod. He was the kind of guy who somehow stayed popular in our school without being mean. He’d done that same quiet nod a hundred times over the years.
I never understood why.
I didn’t answer.
***
That night, I was curled up on the couch, scrolling through thrift-store listings, when Grandpa came in smelling of motor oil.
He sat next to me, glanced at my screen, and put an arm around my shoulders.
« Sweetheart, I’ll make sure you have the most beautiful dress. »
I shook my head.
« Grandpa, no. Please don’t touch your savings. I’m serious. Don’t worry about it. A thrift-store dress is going to make me perfectly happy. »
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