Page 8 of Them Bones

He nodded once, his dark wet hair bouncing. It was getting long, compared to when Dustin had met him in the spring.

“Hey, Dustin,” Shane said, turning to him.

Dustin looked at the floor but nodded once, and he could feel Shane’s smile. Shane didn’t smile much, but it was warm, like Laney’s.

“See?” she said. “Angry face muscles. I’m surprised that didn’tliterallycreak. You need some WD40 for that jaw.”

Shane walked across the kitchen in his bare feet and took the seat across the tiny island from Laney. He was studying her, a little line between his eyes, the buzzing in the room intensifying.

It made his stomach feel weird.

Laney pushed her cereal bowl to the middle of the island and handed Shane an extra spoon. He paused before he took it, a strange look on his face, but then he bent his head and took a heaping spoonful out of her bowl.

Their air seemed to collide, if air can do such a thing, like they were fighting for each other’s space. It was overwhelming, like watching an invisible dance.

Too much,he thought to Laney. But she didn’t hear him. She was looking at Shane, and she wasn’t listening, and Dustin felt himself get mad. It uncoiled lazily like a snake, and he clenched his fists.

LISTEN!he shouted silently.

She heard him that time because she turned her head and looked at him. To his surprise, Shane jumped and turned his head, too.

Can I be Shane’s friend?She asked.Too?

Dustin blew out a long breath, his anger fading as he realized that he was being stupid, and that she would never forget about him.

Okay.

Laney beamed at him, and he knew he’d done good so he looked her in the eye real quick, to let her know it was For Real Okay, and then he scurried down the hall to his room.

Even alone with the door shut, he could feel them.

SHANE

“What was that?” Shane asked, chewing – or rather sucking on the dregs of – his inordinately soggy Froot Loops.

“What was what.” The girl was still watching her brother trail down the hall.

He flicked his spoon, droplets of milk flying at her.

“You two. It's like you speak your own language, or something,” he said.

The girl looked at him, one eyebrow arched, assessing him. He felt like a bug under a microscope. But she just shrugged at him, ignoring the droplets of milk now running down her neck, her slender arm darting out for another spoonful of cereal as she placed the bag of peas on the counter.

“What’s your name,” she asked. “Dusty never said.”

A pause. “Shane Mathers.”

She cocked her head to the side again, and he was wracked with the discomforting feeling of his skin being too small for his body. She was distracting.Pretty,he thought. But he shoved the thought away and cleared his throat.

“Doyouhave a name?”

“Well duh,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Shane grimaced and flicked his spoon at her again. A droplet landed on her cheek, this time, just to the right of her mouth, which she also ignored.

“Laney Hawton.”

“Laney,” he repeated, letting it roll around in his mouth.

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