"Being on your side doesn't mean I won't ever talk about things you don't want to talk about. It just means I'm with you."

With me. It sounded nice the way she said it, but there was a downside, wasn't there? It wasn't all hot sex and witty banter. They lay there quietly, and when his pounding heart decided it wasn't actually under attack after all, he turned and kissed her. And she kissed him back.

Kevin was already up and dressed when Sean's alarm went off at 6:20. He threw on shorts and went to have breakfast with Kevin, though he could have used a few more winks of sleep. Being in his own bed for a mere four hours was no easy way to start the day.

School woke him up pretty fast, however. Fifteen minutes into first block, two boys came in from phys ed. They had collided playing kickball and it soon became apparent that Alejandro with the split lip laid the blame squarely on Davis, who had a growing lump on his forehead.

By the time Sean had cleaned up the lip and given Alejandro an ice pack, Davis was breathing fast, and when Sean applied ice to his head, he burst into tears.

"Maricon," Alejandro muttered at him.

"Hey," said Sean. "None of that!"

Penny looked up from the desk. Sean mouthed the translation, faggot, behind the boys' heads.

"Alejandro," said Penny. "Do you need to spend a little time with Mr. Girardi? I'm sure he'd be very interested to know what you just said."

"No, Ms. Coyne."

Alejandro left with his ice pack, but Penny told Davis to stay for a moment. "You didn't come in for your Ritalin yesterday," she said. "What's going on?"

"Yes, I did!" he said quickly.

"No, Davis, you didn't. What's the deal?"

"I just forgot. I'll come in today, I promise."

When he left, Penny explained that Davis had attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder-"emphasis on hyperactivity"-and was supposed to take a dose of Ritalin every four hours. "Judging by his behavior, I don't think his mom made him take it this morning."

"I don't think she made him take it yesterday, either." Sean told her about Kevin's account of Davis bouncing into people.

"She may have ADHD herself-it runs in families," Penny said. "By the way, you speak Spanish?"

Sean shrugged. "Not fluently. At least not anymore."

The reference to unfortunate family inheritances had reminded him of his late-night talk with Rebecca. But then three girls came in, two leading one in the middle. "She has a migraine-it really hurts-she might throw up-" They talked over each other, faces grave, competing to show the most concern. And Sean was back in work mode.

Around lunchtime, Davis came back. Penny was at a meeting, so Sean pulled his meds. Davis took the pill and turned to leave. Sean held out a paper cup. "Here's some water."

"I can take it in the cafeteria."

"How about you just take it here?"

"I don't like water." Davis's eyes darted from the cup to Sean and back to the cup. "I have a Coke in my lunch."

Amber came in, pale blond hair spread like a silken shawl around her shoulders. Davis stared at her, and she silently rebuked him with a look of disgust. His gaze dropped to the floor.

"Mr. Doran, I don't feel that good," she said.

As soon as Sean turned to her, Davis slipped out the door. Sean sighed. "What's up, Amber?" He went through a slightly shorter round of questions this time, none of which she answered with any actual information, and she went to lie down on the same vinyl cot as before.

After school, Sean waited on the porch for Kevin, reading an article on ADHD in The Journal of School Nursing. Kevin walked directly past him, and Sean let him be for a few minutes while he finished the article. Kevin's face was red and damp when Sean went up to his room, but he wasn't crying anymore. The bus was loud and the lunchroom disgusting, he said. But the worst part of the day was science. "I had to be lab partners with Davis Dixon! And he just kept breathing-like he was running a race or something! It was so loud and annoying."

"Was this after lunch or before?"

"After. Alejandro Ramirez is really pissed at him for crashing into him in gym, and every time Alejandro walked by him in science, the breathing got louder. I could barely stand it!"

"Sounds like he was worried Alejandro might clock him one."

"Yeah, he's scared of, like, everything."

"You know," said Sean. "Davis might be dealing with some things he can't control."

"Right, like he can't control bouncing around all the time?" Kevin scoffed. "I doubt it."

Sean didn't want to use Kevin's own idiosyncrasies against him, but he was surprised at his insensitivity. "Kev," he said. "Everyone has stuff that's hard for them. And sometimes it isn't the same stuff that's hard for everyone else. You see what I'm getting at?"

"No," said Kevin, petulantly.

"What's hard for you?" Sean watched as the point hit home. "I'm not saying you have to like him or be best pals or anything. But don't be mean to him. Life's hard enough."

The next day it was as if the entire school decided to pay a visit to the nurse's office. Fevers, headaches, cramps. Sean wondered if every menstruating female in the building had spontaneously gotten her period. Even the teachers needed supplies. "Where's Penny?" one asked, eyes casting furtively around the room. When he told her Penny was at a meeting in another building, a blush rose up her cheeks. "I need a . . . a . . ." she murmured.

"Tampon?" whispered Sean. He slipped her a couple surreptitiously, like a drug dealer.

A sprained ankle, a case of lice, a broken tooth. Emergency forms were pulled from the file like cards from the deck in a gin game. Parents were called. Notes were written. Forms filled out. Sean was sweating by the time things slowed down a little before lunch.

Two kids were waiting in the sick bays for parents to pick them up when Davis arrived for his Ritalin. Sean took him out to the hallway to talk privately. "You're not taking your medicine, are you?" Davis looked away. "When you do take it, does it help?" Sean asked.

"A little."

"So why not take it?"

"It makes me feel weird. Like something's gonna get me."

"It makes you anxious?"

"More anxious," Davis clarified. "My mother says I'm a born worrywart."

"Who prescribed the Ritalin?" Sean asked.

Davis glanced down the hallway, which was empty. "My psychiatrist," he murmured.

"Does he know about the anxiety?"

"Yeah, but he says we have to deal with the ADHD first. He says for the anxiety I should meditate." Davis rolled his eyes. "I have an attention problem," he said. "How'm I supposed to sit still and clear my mind? If I could do that, I wouldn't need a psychiatrist, would I?"

Dual diagnosis. Sean had read about this in the School Nursing article. It wasn't uncommon for kids with ADHD to be anxiety-prone. This made it difficult to get the medication right because ADHD drugs tend to have a revving effect that can help with concentration but increase anxiety.

Sean said, "I'll talk to Ms. Coyne about this," and let him leave without taking the pill. After school, when the nurse's office cleared out, Sean broached the subject with Penny. "The kid has a point," he said. "So I let him off the hook with the Ritalin."

"We can't make those decisions, Sean." She shook her head wearily. "In fact we could get in a lot of hot water for it. I'm handing this over to guidance." And she typed up an e-mail on the spot, with Sean's input. "Let's see what they say."

CHAPTER 54.

On Saturday, Sean and Kevin went computer shopping.

"That one has no speed," the salesclerk warned them. "They stopped making that processor like six months ago and the RAM's low. That's why we're selling it so cheap."

"We'll take it," said Sean.

They looked at cell phones, but there were so many plans and models and accessories to consider, Sean got overwhelmed and anxious about the expense. This must be what Davis feels like all the time, he thought.

On Sunday, Sean went to Rebecca's to help her paint. He found an eighties radio station, and they laughed and sang along to forgotten superstars like Frankie Goes to Hollywood. Katrina and the Waves came on with "Walking on Sunshine," and Rebecca dropped her brush into the paint can. "This was my favorite!" She began to dance around the room and Sean jumped up to join her. Rebecca knew all the words and sang them with abandon, even the part that went, "Baby I just want you back and I want you to stay!" Sean felt a little funny about that.

When the song was over, she leaned breathless against an unpainted wall. He grinned at her. "I'm pretty positive I never saw you dance like that in high school," he said.

"No," she sighed and slid to the floor. "I only did it in the privacy of my own basement. I wasn't exactly the bouncy, wild-dancing type. People would've thought I was trying too hard."

He went and sat next to her. "So you're a secret sunshine walker."

She smiled. "Still respect me?"

He hung an arm around her. "More than ever."

The thought of her melodious voice and secret inner happiness reminded him of something. "Hey," he said. "Can you make a recording of your voice on your laptop?"

Monday was Labor Day, and Cormac's family was having their annual, semilegendary party to celebrate not working. Sean had gone every year in high school. "Bring the family," Cormac had said. "Bring Rebecca, too!"

Aunt Vivvy didn't want to go. She was lucid enough that morning to explain that she was vexed by the possibility of embarrassing herself.

"Mrs. McGrath would love to see you," said Sean. "You could catch up on Garden Club news. I'll take you home if you start getting foggy." He could see the temptation this presented and pressed his point. "Auntie, you haven't been out of the house in months. Aren't you bored?"

She sighed. "Terribly."

All Kevin wanted to know was would the big guy be there, and would there be pie. Sean assured him there'd be plenty of desserts, including the all-important Labor Day cake designed by Cormac himself. George made it clear that she did not want to be left home alone, barking and whining when she saw them all getting ready to leave. "Absolutely not," Sean told Kevin.

When they went to pick up Rebecca, she was wearing that pale pink dress with the tiny flowers. He felt a secret little gasp erupt in his chest. Aunt Vivvy glanced over at him. Perhaps not entirely secret. He got out to greet her with a peck on the cheek and opened the back door.

She greeted everyone and said, "Hey there, George. Are you coming to the party, too?"

"Don't ask," Sean grumbled.

When they arrived at the McGraths' there was music playing in the backyard, and voices and laughter. Cormac was the first person they saw, and he greeted them with his characteristic enthusiasm, high-fiving Kevin and beckoning his mother over to help Aunt Vivvy to a chair. "Rebecca," he said. "Man, the years have been good to you!"

She smiled. "I hear you kept Sean out of trouble at your bakery this summer."

"Actually, he was the worst cashier I ever hired."

"Hey!" Sean said, mock-indignantly.

"Sure, the guy can sew a head wound," Cormac went on, "but he doesn't know a half-caf macchiato from his elbow, let me tell you that."

Cormac suggested to Kevin that he take a look at the cake, but Kevin was a little iffy about the crowd. Rebecca volunteered to go with him.

"First get George's bowl and fill it with water," Sean told him. "Even with the windows down she'll get hot."

They went off to do so, and Cormac said, "The responsible dog owner!"

"Let's get one thing straight: I do not own that dog."

"Got it." Cormac nodded sarcastically.

"Where's Barb?"

Cormac's joviality faded, and he took a few steps away from the crowd. "Upstairs in my old bedroom," he murmured. "Having a nervous breakdown."

"What? Why?"

"My cousin Janie's pregnant."

"Oh, God, buddy. I'm so sorry. Janie's not even married to the guy, right?"

"They will be in about a month." Cormac shrugged. "In the end it's a good thing. Tug's dying for more kids, and in my personal opinion, Janie needed a kick in the ass. 'Where will we live?' " he mimicked. "Who freaking cares? What a stupid thing to stop you from being with someone who's really right for you."

Sean felt the zing of this comment, though he knew Cormac hadn't meant it for him. Spoken like a man who's never had a location problem, he thought. But his sympathy for his old friend returned a moment later. "Shouldn't you be up there with her?" he asked.

"No, she's pissed at me. Not entirely sure why, of course . . ."

"It's the hormones," said Sean. "And you're the husband."

Cormac nodded. "So," he said after a moment. "You neglected to mention that your girlfriend is smokin' hot."