The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys #1)(7)

I introduced him to my parents, and by my secret request, Dad hired Miller to do yard work once a week, even though we already had a gardener.

“He paid me fifty bucks,” Miller had told me later after his first day on the job. He glared at me accusingly. “That’s too much.”

“We have a huge lawn,” I’d replied innocently.

He wanted to argue but I think he needed the money more.

One late August night, Miller sat with a notebook on his knees, scribbling at something while I studied.

I shut my algebra workbook and took my glasses off to rub my eyes. “Done. One less class I have to worry about in high school.”

“You’re going to be like that old show, Doogie Howser,” Miller said, finishing off the ham and cheese sandwich I’d made him. “You’ll be in college when you’re sixteen.”

“Nah. I’m not that good.”

“You’re damn smart, Vi,” he said.

That was another thing. He started calling me Vi. Which I sort of loved.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re writing?” I asked.

“My college master’s thesis.” He tucked the notebook in his backpack. “Thought I’d get a jump on it.”

“Ha ha.” I shrugged my shoulders up and down and stretched my legs in front of me. “I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“You’re meeting Shiloh tomorrow.”

She was back from New Orleans, and I thought it was overdue for Friend One to meet Friend Two.

“That makes you nervous?”

I toyed with my pen. “You might like her more than me.”

“Then I won’t meet her.”

“That’s…dumb.”

“Yeah, it is,” he said, watching me with the intent way he had. Like he was absorbing me somehow, in all my geeky glory. “Because there’s no way I’m going to like her more than you.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” Miller’s eyes darkened. “Besides, what do you care? You like River What’s His Name.”

“True, but that’s just a pipe dream. I may as well have a crush on Justin Trudeau since it’s never going to happen. And anyway, I’m not worried about you liking Shiloh. She says she’ll never date a boy ever, though she won’t tell me why. I’m worried you guys will hit it off and be BFFs.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t want to be left out.”

“I won’t ever leave you out.”

Irritation scratched at me for being so self-conscious. “Ugh, forget it. I was friends with her first and I was friends with you first, so why am I the one worried about being left out?”

“Because you overthink everything.” Miller gave me one of his rare smiles. “I don’t even want to meet her. I hate her already.”

I smirked. “You’re not allowed to hate her. Just ignore me. I’m being silly.”

“Paranoid, maybe…” he teased and then yawned.

Dark circles ringed his eyes lately, and his face was pale in the light of my desk lamp. Miller always seemed kind of sad, but the sadness had worsened over the last few days. Sunken into him deeper, somehow. I’d tried to ask him about it several times—about being tired and the headaches he seemed to have a lot. But he always shut me down and assured me he was fine.

But it’s obvious, he’s not fine.

I bit my lip. “Can I be honest?”

“When are you not?”

“You don’t look so good. Are you okay? Don’t mess around. Tell me for real.”

“I’m fine.”

“You look like you’ve lost weight—”

“I’m fine, Doctor McNamara. It’s just a headache.”

“You keep saying that but you’re not getting better. Is it because school is almost starting? Are you nervous about that?”

Miller said nothing. I moved from my desk chair to sit beside him, but he jumped to his feet. “I need to use your bathroom.”

He went and closed the door. I heard him pee and then run the faucet.

“That’s another thing,” I said when he came back out. “You’re always thirsty, always peeing.”

“Jesus, Vi.”

“It’s true. So, it makes me wonder.” I swallowed hard. “Do you not have…plumbing at your house? Running water?”

“Leave it alone.”

“You can tell me, Miller. You know you can.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, and I—”

“Forget it. You wouldn’t look at me the same way.” He slung his ratty backpack on his shoulder. “I gotta go.”

“Fine,” I said, pretending to be mad. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Vi…don’t be like that,” he said tiredly. “There’s not anything you can do, so don’t worry about it.”

“I said fine. You don’t want to talk about it, so I won’t.” I made a big show of stretching and yawning. “I’m going to bed.”

He studied me a moment longer, then nodded. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

“Yep.”