Page 60 of Beg, Borrow, or Steal

“It’s ninep.m., hardly the dead of night.”

Jack and I click on the flashlights we brought and shine them around the kitchen. “I’ve actually never been here before.”

“Really?” He illuminates a giant rooster print above the little breakfast table. There’s an apple print border wrapping the room,with blue-and-white-striped wallpaper covering the lower half of the wall. “I’ve been here twice.”

I shine the flashlight at Jack’s face, and he grimaces. “When was the second time?”

“To have breakfast with him.”

“You had breakfast with Bart?”

“Why does that shock you?” I like how his voice sounds a little like sandpaper when he’s quiet.

“Because other teachers have invited you to do at least a hundred things with them and you always declined and gave a bogus reason like your dog was sick and needed to be taken to the vet.”

“Taking a sick dog to the vet is a valid reason.”

“Sure. If you owned a dog.”

His quiet laugh is delicious. “Busted.”

After verifying that there’s no laptop anywhere on the counter, we meander into the next room. A formal dining room. Equally dated as the kitchen. Wallpapered in burgundy. Large china hutch on one wall, full of dishes.

“I always wondered why you never did hang out with any of the teachers outside of school. I know you were invited to Hank’s several times. And Rachel’s murder mystery party. I thought for sure you’d go to that.”

He shines his light in my direction but not quite in my eyes because he’s nicer than me. “What’s your guess? I know you have one.”

We’re on opposite sides of the formal dining table and slowly meeting around the far side. “Zoe was jealous? Didn’t want you spending after-hours with other people?”

We stop right in front of each other. Close enough that I can hear his hint of a laugh. “You really didn’t like Zoe, did you?”

“She made you feel bad about your glasses.” I reach up to touchmy index finger to the side of the frame like I’m petting my favorite animal. “I hate her.”

He smiles. “I know you’re not gonna like hearing this, but she wasn’t an evil person. She had her good moments.”

“Did she cheat on you?”

He squints. “Yes. But I don’t believe the fault was all hers. I contributed to the problems of our relationship as much as she did.”

“Was her cheating a onetime mistake? Or was it an affair?”

He sighs. “You’re a relentless pain in the ass when your nose catches a scent.”

“Thank you. Answer the question.”

“An affair.” He looks away and then back. “She was cheating for a year. It’s part of why she wanted us to move to Nebraska. He had moved there first.”

My stomach bottoms out. “Jack.”

“No. Don’t do that. You don’t know the ins and outs of our relationship. I was just as much at fault as she was.”

“Why? Did you cheat too?”

He looks appalled by this concept. “No.”

I groan and turn away. “See. You’re too nice.”

He’s trailing behind me. “Something I never thought I’d hear you say.”

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