“I want a Milky Way.”
Sadie left again and fetched the Milky Way. She handed it to him
with a nervous laugh, and Shawn said, “Where’s my Snickers? What,
you forgot again?”
“You didn’t want it!” she said, her eyes shining like glass. “I gave it to
Charles!”
“Go get it.”
“I’ll buy you another.”
“No,” Shawn said, his eyes cold. His baby teeth, which usually gave
him an impish, playful appearance, now made him seem
unpredictable, volatile. “I want that one. Get it, or don’t come back.”
A tear slid down Sadie’s cheek, smearing her mascara. She paused
for a moment to wipe it away and pull up her smile. Then she walked
over to Charles and, laughing as if it were nothing, asked if she could
have the Snickers. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, then
watched her walk back to Shawn. Sadie placed the Snickers in his palm
like a peace offering and waited, staring at the carpet. Shawn pulled
her onto his lap and ate the bar in three bites.
“You have lovely eyes,” he said. “Just like a fish.”—SADIE’S PARENTS WERE DIVORCING and the town was awash in rumors
about her father. When Mother heard the rumors, she said now it
made sense why Shawn had taken an interest in Sadie. “He’s always
protected angels with broken wings,” she said.
Shawn found out Sadie’s class schedule and memorized it. He made
a point of driving to the high school several times a day, particularly at
those times when he knew she’d be moving between buildings. He’d
pull over on the highway and watch her from a distance, too far for her
to come over, but not so far that she wouldn’t see him. It was
something we did together, he and I, nearly every time we went to
town, and sometimes when we didn’t need to go to town at all. Until
one day, when Sadie appeared on the steps of the high school with
Charles. They were laughing together; Sadie hadn’t noticed Shawn’s
truck.
I watched his face harden, then relax. He smiled at me. “I have the