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kidding me.”
    “What?” they said in unison.
    “Nothing.”
    “Thanks,” Nic said as the waitress handed him a box.
    “What?” Christie asked.
    “He finished your sentence.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Explain that one.”
    “He did not,” she said as he said, “I did not.”
    “Whatever.”
    “Ooh. Gotta go,” Nic said. He jumped up, got two slices of pizza from the pan obviously burning himself, because he jerked his hand back and shook it. He popped the slices in the box. “I have to get to work.”
    Christie looked at her watch. “You’ve got ten minutes.”
    “Keeping tabs on me, huh?” He grinned. “I like that.”
    “Barf,” Christie said.
    “See ya later,” Nic said.
    We watched him walk away and out the door, right behind a woman in a nurse’s uniform and Will. Strange coincidence?
    “He’s following him,” I said.
    “He won’t hurt him,” Christie said, squinting at the door. “I think.”
    “He can’t hurt him. He’s a minor.”
    Christie turned to me and smiled. “You’re right. He really can’t.” She shook her head. “That man is a nightmare.”
    “I think you like him.”
    She ignored me and gestured to the pizza. “Let’s dig in. This stuff is delicious.”
    The pizza tasted even better than it smelled.
    “Do you want to skip the scrimmage tonight?” Christie asked when I started on my second piece.
    I considered it. I could probably eat a couple more pieces if I didn’t have to go run around. “No. It was fun last night. And I don’t want to get out of shape. We’ve got a big game next week when I get back.”
    “Okay, let’s get a box for this, and we’ll go home so you can change.”
     
    “How long have you lived here?” I asked Christie when we got back to her snowy white spy villa.
    “A month.” She tossed her keys on the table and went into the kitchen. “Pretty cool apartment though, huh? The last place was a rundown walk-up in Philly.”
    “That’s almost an oxymoron.” Mom loved oxymorons. “How long were you there?” I called.
    “Six months.” She returned from the kitchen carrying the phone.
    “So you move around all the time?”
    “Pretty much. I’m pushing for an assignment in the Mediterranean, but we’ll see.” She grinned and held the phone out. “Call your mom before you change. She’s probably dying to talk to you.”
    “Right.” I sighed. “Okay.”
    I took the phone and dialed the number I’d memorized for the first day of kindergarten.
    “Hey, Mom,” I said when she answered.
    “Amanda, I’m so glad you called. I’ve been thinking about you. How was your trip?”
    “Fine.” I really hoped she wouldn’t get all “mental health professional” on me. Usually, she was pretty cool. She wasn’t a touchy-feely psychologist but a medical doctor who prescribed medications. And I didn’t need any. Yet.
    “I’m so glad you were able to get away for a while. It will do you some good. How’s Christie?”
    “Great. You know, just the same old Christie.” I smiled so wide at my joke I thought my lips would crack.
    Christie gave me a menacing glare, then grinned, and left the room.
    “I really don’t understand her obsession with education,” Mom said.
    “Mom, you have a medical degree, and Dad’s a law professor. What’s not to understand about Christie staying in school?” She wasn’t in school at all, but whatever.
    “It’s different with her,” Mom said. “Oh, anyway. I want you to think about talking to someone. You know, about the divorce.”
    “I’m fine, Mom.”
    “I know, but you really didn’t have the warning signs most children have. I just don’t think you were prepared for it.”
    She had that part right. They’d never fought or anything. “I’m fine, Mom.”
    “Just think about it, okay?”
    “I will. I have to go, though. I’m playing soccer with some people Christie knows.”
    “Oh, that’s nice. Have fun, Sweetie. I love you.”
    “Love you, too.” I hung