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"Your brother has cancer?" I ask, none too gently I don’t realize it until the words hang there in the air His face scrunches up and he nods

"Is he going to be all right?" I ask I stop eating and watch his face

He shrugs

"Oh," I say "I’m sorry"

He nods

"Is it the brother I met? A the tattoo parlor?"

He shakes his head

"How ers

"Older? Or younger?"

He raises his hand above his head and shows ers Then lowers it like soers

"Two older and two younger?" I ask

He nods

I wish I could ask hi on the board, and I sigh heavily and throw my head back in defeat This part of it is torturous I would rather have someone pull my teeth with a pair of pliers than read But his brother has freaking cancer The least I can do is try

I look down at it, and the words blur for me I try to unscramble them, but it’s too hard I shove the board back toward him

He narrows his eyes at me and scrubs the board clean He writes one word and turns it around

You, it says He points to me

I point to myself "Me?"

He nods and swipes the board clean He writes another word and shows it to me

"Can’t," I say

He nods and writes another word He’s spacing the letters far enough apart that they’re not juether in my head, but it’s still hard

My lips falter over the last word, but I say, "Read" Then I realize that I just told him I can’t read "Wait! I can read!" I protest

He writes another word: Well

He knows I can read Air escapes ratified rush "I can read," I repeat "I can’t read well, but…" I letme he understands He points to ers over it like a pair of eyes, and then he givesso fast it’s hard to breathe I read the damn words, didn’t I? "At least I can talk!" I say I want to take the words back as soon as they leave my lips, but it’s too late I slap a hand over my lips when his face falls He shakes his head, bites his lip, and gets up "I’m sorry," I say I am I really am He walks away, but he doesn’t take his backpack with hione, a man approaches the table He’s a handsome black man with tall, natural hair Everyone calls him Bone, but I don’t knohat his real name is I just know he’s trouble Everyone knows that

"Who’s the chump, Kit?" he asks The people in this city who know me call me Kit It couldn’t be farther fro a sip of oes away before Logan coan will coan slides back into the booth He looks up at Bone and doesn’t acknowledge hiht, Kit?" Bone asks

"Yeah," I reply "I’irl like you," Bone says

"I’ll keep that in mind" It doesn’t pay to piss Bone off He walks away

"You all right?" I ask Logan

He nods, brushing his curls from his forehead

"I’ain

"It’s not your fault you can’t talk And…" My voice falls off I’ve never talked to anyone about this "It’s not my fault I can’t read well"

He nods

"I’ain and waves his hands to shut er to his lips like he wants ru I hate to do it, but I can’t take it "I should go," I say I reach for ets it, I think I’d rather play twenty questions than I would try to read words

He opens his rits his teeth, and then a sound like a murmur in a cavern comes out of hiswhen he can talk?

He shakes his head and bites his lips together I shush and wait "Maybe," he says It comes out quiet and soft and his consonants are as smooth as his vowels "Just don’t tell anyone"

I draw a cross overI don’t understand

"What’s your na, and he has to stop betords, like when I’