He made his hand into the shape of a pistol and tucked it into his pants.

"s.h.i.t. And Angel's gun. You saw it first, huh. How do you do that?"

He shrugged.

"Do you think if I shut up more, I could be like you?"

The fake gun came back out of his waistband, and he used his barrel-finger to trace my jaw. You're fine the way you are. You're fine the way you are.

I almost choked on the back of my tongue. Face-touching in public was...literally more in-your-face than the handholding we'd been playing around with. But really, I didn't feel as nervous or as uncomfortable as I would have thought. more in-your-face than the handholding we'd been playing around with. But really, I didn't feel as nervous or as uncomfortable as I would have thought.

Instead, I wanted to knock him back against the shelf full of snack cakes and kiss him until neither of us could breathe. Then I'd rip off his clothes and have my way with him on a bed of Twinkie boxes.

"M-maybe we should get a couple bottles of water on our way out."

Stocked with about eight dollars worth of food-and that important sun block-we rounded the corner to head back to the register. Seb gazed wistfully at some modeling clay and a fancy notebook as we pa.s.sed through the school supply aisle, his fingers stopping on the items and forcing his feet to a standstill.

I shook my head.

"I have a notebook in my backpack you can have if you really want it. And there's always the wet sand to play with."

I was sure he was giving me a dirty look, but I didn't see it because something else caught my eye.

"Now here's something we can get for you." I grabbed a child's trace-the-alphabet booklet and stuck it in his face.

He pushed it away, glaring. Why would I want that? Why would I want that?

"So you can learn how to write better."

And why should I? He huffed, a bit of hair blowing off his forehead. He huffed, a bit of hair blowing off his forehead.

"So you can...write me love letters." I gave him a c.o.c.ky grin.

His lips tightened in a frown.

And then pop! pop! my daydream of doing him against a fallen shelf burst back into my mind and completely overpowered me. Thankfully, I managed to show some restraint in the actual force of my advance as I leaned in and kissed him. my daydream of doing him against a fallen shelf burst back into my mind and completely overpowered me. Thankfully, I managed to show some restraint in the actual force of my advance as I leaned in and kissed him.

Kissed him right there in the middle of a West Los Angeles 99-cents store, with bright lights and cheesy elevator music and tons of shoppers. My hand latched onto his t-shirt and I dug in, drawing breath through my nose so I could keep our connection going for as long as possible.

I couldn't help it...not that I really wanted to. Because it'd finally struck me that each expression of his-including the frowns-just proved he was real real.

The kiss dissolved into a final brush of our lips and I stayed close, basking in the warm glow of his eyes. I'd surprised him, I could tell, but he was happy.

He untangled his arm from where it'd slid around my waist and tapped his wrist.

"Huh?"

He tapped again. The time. The time.

"Oh s.h.i.t! We'd better move it. s.h.i.t, I hope that dance place is still open."

Of course, it wasn't.

"f.u.c.k." I banged on the locked door. "f.u.c.k. We shoulda come back here and waited a lot earlier. It's my fault. I'm sorry."

Seb rubbed my back soothingly. It's okay. It's okay.

"I guess we'll have to go to plan B." Defeated, I led us over to the strip mall where we'd been the night before. "This f.u.c.king sucks."

Shaking his head and smiling, Seb took the bag from my back. We'll make do. We'll make do.

The blankets came out again, though neither of us was tired. I wanted to talk more, but Seb wasn't really paying attention to me. And if I couldn't see his eyes, I didn't think I'd be able to "hear" much from him.

He dug around in the backpack, laying my belongings out in neat piles in front of us.

T-shirts. Boxers. A few pairs of socks. The photos from my house. A notebook, a crumpled piece of paper, a stick of dried-up gum. Two pens, a pencil, and a smushed package of tamales.

"Oh, s.h.i.t. I forgot about those. Think they're still good?"

Only one way to find out. He ripped back the foil and took a bite, then nodded. He ripped back the foil and took a bite, then nodded. They seem all right. They seem all right.

I snagged a piece for myself. What was the worst that could happen? I'd already thrown them up once before and survived.

Good thing they were only cheese.

While we ate, Seb picked up the notebook and pencil. He opened to a blank page and began to doodle. At first, I couldn't make out anything in the mess of shapes and random lines-it just reminded me of the way he used to run his fingers around in the dirt. But eventually I saw something round emerge within the twisted scribbles: the Ferris wheel. As layers of details and shading were added, the scene expanded to include an abstract sketch of the whole pier.

"I didn't know you could draw."

He gave me an amused look. There's a lot of things you don't know about me. There's a lot of things you don't know about me.

"Well that I did did know." I laughed. "How 'bout telling me some more stuff?" know." I laughed. "How 'bout telling me some more stuff?"

Shrugging, he returned to his drawing.

But I wasn't going to let him get off so easily this time. With nothing else to do but sit holed up behind a bush all night, I was ready to get some answers.

"Listen, Seb, you're gonna have to explain some stuff."

He ignored me.

"Like...why have you been hiding all this time? I mean, why didn't you ever let anyone know that you were...in there?"

The pencil stopped moving across the paper. Brows raised slyly, he pointed at me. Why do you hide who you are? Why do you hide who you are?

"What? I don't hide."

He tipped his head. Yes, you do. Yes, you do.

"No I don't."

Uh huh. His eyes narrowed skeptically His eyes narrowed skeptically. So you're saying you share everything you are with everyone?

I scowled. "Fine. So maybe I keep some stuff to myself. But we're talking about you here, not me. If you won't tell me why you decided to hide...then can you tell me why you decided to open up to me? I mean, why after all these years did you choose me me to be yourself with?" to be yourself with?"

Again, he pointed at me and turned the question around. Why did Why did you you decide to be yourself with decide to be yourself with me me?

My cheeks grew warm. How was I the one being interrogated here? "Um...because it felt...safe, I guess."

He nodded.

"So then...I make you feel safe?"

He took up the doodling again, his lips tugging into a grin.

Some moisture traveled to my eyes, making his drawing all blurry, but I covered it with laughter. "I make you feel safe. I think I really like that."

I leaned against the concrete wall, pulling Seb between my legs so he could rest on me. He flipped to a fresh page and kept drawing.

I watched each stroke, completely entranced by this new glimpse into his mind. Slanted, almond eyes appeared. Then he added sharp cheekbones and an angular jaw in an oval face, surrounded by long, dark hair.

"Who's that?"

He ran a finger over the drawing, smiling fondly.

"Your mom?"

His hair bounced as he nodded.

I tightened my arms around his chest and hugged him close. "You know, Laloni said something once...about uh, special needs kids. Do you think you not being able to talk is why she...abandoned you?"

He whirled around to face me, eyes boiling with fury. She didn't abandon me! She didn't abandon me!

"Okay, okay." I sc.r.a.ped my back on the wall as I edged away. "Sorry. I just thought..." His eyes blazed even fiercer. "Never mind. So she didn't abandon you. What happened, then? How'd you end up in foster care? They took you from her?"

He turned away again and added a few more strands of hair to her picture, swirling them around her neck and shoulders. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down restlessly, and even though he didn't look at me, I could see the grief in his slumped shoulders.

She died.

"s.h.i.t. I'm sorry, Seb." I kissed his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

He started to draw spirals, the pencil spinning out in wider and wider circles and overlapping his mother's face.

"Were you really young when it happened?"

Yes.

"And then you went straight into foster care? Didn't have anyone else to take you in?"

He didn't answer.

"Seb? Did you go straight into foster care after she died?"

Still no response, but the spirals on his page grew darker as he crossed the same s.p.a.ces over and over again.

"Were things always...okay for you after she died? I mean, like they were at Ms. Loretta's?"

A larger spiral took over all the smaller ones. His pencil moved faster and faster until the picture resembled a black hole.

I didn't know why I was pressing him when he was so clearly upset, but I didn't stop. Something had crawled into my stomach-besides the two-day-old tamales-and it lay there heavily, making me sick. "Seb"-my voice sunk to a whisper-"did anyone ever...hurt you?"

No answer. Then, with a splat splat, a pool of liquid appeared in the black hole. It seeped into the paper and smeared the lead into an even darker circle.

"Seb?"

Splat. Another tear fell. And then another. Another tear fell. And then another.

I crawled around him and gently took the notebook and pencil from his hands. I'd already known, somehow, even before I'd asked. And I hadn't really wanted the answer.

As I gathered him into my arms, I tried not to think about all the horrible things that might happen to a little boy when no one could hear him scream.

"Shh, shh." I rocked him. "No llores, mi amor. No llores."

I wasn't sure why I slipped into Spanish. It was just that the last time anyone had held me like this, I'd been really young, and those were the words I'd heard...from Mimi, or from my mother.

"You're safe now, remember? You're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

He clutched my arms, his fingers digging into the flesh. Strange, squeaking breaths came from his throat as he cried.

Stranger still because I'd never heard him make a sound at all.

"Seb, please don't cry." My voice was strangled now, too. Maybe I wanted my ignorance back. What had happened to him? Who had done it?

I might never know. But I had my suspicions. I'd had them since the night before, I realized. Seb was experienced. experienced. And in a boy who'd spent his teenage years pretending to be special, that experience sent up red flags. And in a boy who'd spent his teenage years pretending to be special, that experience sent up red flags.

I tipped his head back to wipe his face clean. His eyes were red and just slightly puffy, the expression in their depths as naked and as vulnerable as I'd ever seen.

At least now I had an idea of why he'd put up this wall between himself and the rest of the world.

I couldn't take away his pain, but maybe I could replace it with another emotion. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but maybe, if we spent our lives together...maybe the happiness could outweigh the bad.

"I love you, Sebastian."

His lips found mine, melting into a soft kiss.

The rest of our lives. Making that kind of commitment to Seb was terrifying. I just wished I had some idea what that life together would look like...but I wasn't going to let uncertainty hold me back anymore.