Page 27 of The Spy Ring

I lifted my hand to block the sun and realized the runner with the cut body was Jagger. His legs and arms glistened with sweat but that only seemed to enhance the curves of his muscles. Placing his arms behind his back, he waited as my eyes lingered on the blue fabric that appeared to have melted onto his chest.

“Jagger. I didn’t realize you lived in Chicago,” Aria said.

That caught me off guard and I turned to Aria. “You know Jagger?”

“Yes, we met him on our way back to Chicago,” Aria said and then abruptly began to cough.

Grace patted her on her back, but Aria couldn’t stop.

“I think I need to go back home,” Aria rasped and pulled Grace with her.

They waved and I watched them, noticing Aria’s coughing stopped once they reached the sidewalk.

“That was weird,” I said.

“What do you expect from an artist.” Jagger made himself comfortable next to me.

“I guess,” I said still unsure as to what just happened.

“Nice day.” Jagger turned to face the skate park, waving at David.

My boy was standing on his skateboard just outside the gate that separated the skaters from the observers. A few boys were talking to him.

“I’m glad he’s making friends,” I said putting my thoughts to words.

“You sound like he’s five,” Jagger said.

“What?”

He sighed and turned his body so his arm was propped on the back of the bench causing me to stare at the muscles in his upper arm. Normally, I wasn’t into that sort of thing—men with lots of muscles like athletes or models, but I swear it seemed like Jagger was flaunting them at me. Wearing T-shirts that hug his chest or shorts that bared his legs.

Looking around I noticed all of the men, and women for that matter, were wearing similar items but on Jagger they appeared provocative. He might as well have had a giant neon sign pointing to his body that said, “This man has a body made for licking.”

And that’s another thing. When did I get into licking? The mother in me knew that licking anything, even bodies, could lead to illness. But the woman in me that had Jagger in her line of vision seemed to think licking might be fun.

“Doesn’t David have friends?” he asked.

“Of course, but only one. There was a boy, Matt, but he moved away last year. There’s another boy that’s in our building, Walker, who comes over to play video games every so often, even before David had the operation.”

I turned to find David standing and playing with his board with one foot, talking to some kids. “David had a special communication device and we adapted the game controller so he could invite people over to play with him. He’s liked to play games with Walker, but I think Walker only liked David for the games he had and nothing else. At least, that’s what I heard him tell Henrik a few weeks ago.”

It wasn’t easy for a boy that had difficulty communicating, even with a speaking device, to make friends with kids.

“I feel sorry for that kid.”

I narrowed my eyes at Jagger. “Don’t feel sorry for David. He’s done more in his twelve years on this planet than most people do their entire life.”

“I didn’t mean David . . . I meant Walker.”

“Oh.” I shrugged. “I just think their personalities didn’t match up.”

At least, that’s what I told myself even when I noticed Walker would always make excuses when David invited him to his birthday party. Every year.

We sat quietly, enjoying the weather and watching my son laugh with his new friends. Unwittingly, my throat tightened and a few unsolicited tears fell from my eyes.

“Darn,” I whispered and turned my head, brushing the tears away with my fingers.

“Allergies?” Jagger asked before handing over a tissue that I hoped came from his pocket.

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