Lukas says over the steady chatter of the lunchroom. Pushing his chair away and letting his fists fall on the table. Two girls at the next table stop eating. They stare at us for a second trying to figure out who’s shouting. Turn around again when they see us because we’re not important enough for them to care. “You’re making a scene,” I whisper. “Sorry,” he says sarcastically. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your new friends.” Still speaking loud enough to make the next table glance over. Trying to say it loud enough to get Maggie and her group to look over from their table but it’s too far away for his voice to travel. Too much static between here and there. “Don’t be a jerk,” I say seriously enough to let him know I’m only half kidding. “I’m being a jerk?” he asks. An honest show of confusion on his face when he raises his eyebrows and lets his shaggy hair fall in front of his eyes. Then he gathers himself. Takes a deep breath and takes my wrists in his hands.
