The next day, Brendon waited for me after class.

“Hey, you’re not wearing all your bracelets,” he said. After talking with Cheryl at the psychic fair, I had been wearing my crystals less and less.

“I’m not super into them right now.”

“But you are wearing your watch,” he said, smiling.

“Well, it goes with the outfit.”

He laughed, and then reached over and took my hand. Okay, holding my hand in the hallway definitely meant something.

“Hey, are you going to math lab today? Because I can drive you home after class as long as you don’t mind waiting for me during my seventh hour.”

“I should go to work on my homework, so yeah, it’d be great.”

I was in the math lab when he came to pick me up. Darren raised his eyebrows at me as he walked past us out of the room.

“What’s his problem?” Brendon asked.

I just shrugged, and we left to go to get something to eat.

“Stargazer Deli, okay?” he asked.

“Sure.” It was the one of the few fast-food restaurants we could agree on. He always got the bacon classic cheeseburger, and I ordered a peanut butter and banana sandwich and fries.

“So I applied to my dad’s alma mater last month,” he said.

“Have you heard anything yet?”

He shook his head, and I told him he’d probably get in.

“You think so? Sam told me I didn’t have a prayer,” he said, jamming a fry into his mouth.

“Why? You’re an honor student, you’re on a million committees, and you played soccer last year. What else are they looking for? Nomination for sainthood?” I asked.

“Well, you have to be in the top ten percent of your class,” he said. “I am, but I’m having problems in my physics class. I even got myself a tutor.”

“You’ll be fine. My grandma always says worrying about something doesn’t solve it, so just concentrate on doing your best,” I said.

“Makes me wish I had told you before I told Sam.”

“Will your dad be upset if you don’t get in?”

“Well, all the men in my family have gone to one of two schools and only because two of them wanted to focus on constitutional law, so I pretty much have to get into one of them or else it’s like I don’t measure up, you know?”

No, I didn’t, and I couldn’t imagine the amount of pressure he was feeling.

“Did you apply to both?”

“Yeah, and to a safety school. Sad thing is my safety school is my own first choice,” he said.

“What does your dad say about the safety school?”

“Huh? Oh, he has no clue it’s where I want to go. I mean, I mentioned it had some great programs, but he basically blew me off.”

“Does it have a better journalism program than the other two?” I asked.

He stared at me while chewing his French fry. “Yup, and it’s where my favorite newscaster went to school. They help you get internships, bring in guys from the field—people who have gone in with the troops in Afghanistan and the reporter who was captured in Syria came last year. I watched a video of his talk online and it was epic.”

“Your whole face lights up so much when you talk about this stuff. You need to try to talk to your dad again about it. Or maybe your mom.”

“It won’t go anywhere. My mom goes along with what my dad says, and there’s no way he’d ever be okay with it,” he said. “There is a scholarship to get in, and it’s pretty prestigious. He might take it seriously if I won it, and maybe he’d entertain the idea of letting me go there for a semester, but then I know he’d make me transfer.”

“Are you going to apply for it?”

“I don’t know, but I’d have to write an essay on what story the news isn’t telling today and why it isn’t being covered.”

“Do you have any ideas for it?”

“A couple. One on race relations, one on military suicides, and another on how families that decades ago would have fallen into the middle class are now living just above the poverty line.”

“Wow, that’s heavy stuff. Which one are you going to write on?”

“I’ve written something for all three, but I don’t know which one to submit. If I do the military one, I risk my dad losing votes if my essay ever became public. And if I hand in the one about families…well, then people could go over my dad’s voting record and point out anything he voted for which might have caused anything like what I’m writing about. The race one is controversial, but probably the safest bet.”

“Which one are you the most passionate about?”

“The military suicide one. My cousin had a hard time when he came back from being overseas and…well, one of my family members attempted suicide once, and I know there’s a stigma about it.”

“Then why don’t you go with what you’re passionate about? People should be able to separate what you do from your dad,” I said.

Brendon stared out the window for a minute. “I’ve never told anyone this—not even a lot of people in my family know this—but the person who attempted suicide was my brother.”

“Jayson?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s part of the reason he’s taking time off from school. They say he’s doing work with my dad, but he’s going to therapy, and nobody wants to rock the boat.”

“I had no idea. What happened?”

“Honestly, I don’t know the whole story because it happened while he was away at school. His roommate was gone for the weekend, and luckily he called my mom, and they went up there and got him before things got too far. Jayson’s never told me everything or how it went down, but now you know why I got so upset when I saw Brooke with her new boyfriend.”

“Does she know what went on with Jayson?” I asked.

“I think she knows something went on, but I don’t think she knows how far it went. You know what drives me nuts about this whole thing? Why do we have to keep it so quiet? I get they don’t want Jayson’s personal business out there in the street, but even at home they never talk about it. My dad tells him he can come to him with anything, but you can tell Dad is uncomfortable about it, and my mom keeps her books on suicide and depression hidden in her bedroom where the maid won’t see them. Mom won’t order books online or download them because someone might trace them to her and wonder why she’s buying them—I heard her say those words to my dad.”

“Wow, is Jayson doing better?”

“I think so—hope so anyway. Family secrets suck. You know, they used to hide away Grandpa once he got sick so people could remember him the way he was. What’s wrong with the way he is now? He had a stroke—nothing to be ashamed of. Yet when everything was going on with Jayson, they had Grandpa come to one of Dad’s speeches, and I feel like it was to put the focus on Grandpa, so anyone who might be curious about why Jayson left school wouldn’t pay attention to it.”

“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all of this.”

“Yeah, but I’m glad I told you. I feel a little better talking about it.”

Reaching over, I squeezed his hand. I didn’t need to ask him where we stood. Just knowing he could confide in me was all I needed.

“You can always talk to me.”

“I know.”