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doesn’t know us.”
    “He doesn’t,” Peter replied. “Not anymore. He has other friends and they’re al up to no good.”
    I looked down at my brown leather shoes and hugged my books tighter. “But we used to be the three musketeers. Remember the time we took our
    bikes to the ridge? Or when we built the tree fort in the woods behind the old McKeown place?”
    “Yeah.”
    “And the time you told his dad he was with us at the lake, when he’d been drinking down at the river? That wasn’t al that long ago.”
    “I saved him a beating that day.”
    “He knew it, too. That was when he used to think we were his best friends.”
    Al at once, I felt as if my heart was being ripped out of my chest.
    Peter sighed. “People change I guess.”
    “How? I’m the same person I always was, and so are you.”
    “But he’s not the same. He’s gotten into some bad stuff.”
    I shook my head. “I don’t believe that. He is stil the same, and I feel like we should do something.”
    “You always wanted to save the world,” Peter said. “But not everybody wants to be saved.”
    “It’s not that.” Why did Peter always have to be such a brick wal ? Why wouldn’t he listen? “If we could just let Matt know that we’re here for him, and that we want to help. He’s smart. He doesn’t have to fail math and biology. Maybe we could have a study group or something.”
    Peter considered it, then shifted his leather book satchel from one hand to the other. “He doesn’t want to try, and we can’t force him. You know how
    headstrong he is. He doesn’t care about school like we do. He doesn’t care about anything. I reckon he’l drop out before graduation anyway.”
    Doug Jones dropped Matt off in front of his house, then skidded his tires as he backed up and drove back down the hil . Matt stood in his front yard, finishing his cigarette. He wore faded blue jeans and a black leather jacket, and he staggered sideways as he tipped his head back to blow a cloud
    of smoke into the air.
    He didn’t have any books with him. What was he going to do when he got to class tomorrow without his homework done? If he even made it to
    class.
    Eventual y he turned and climbed his rickety front steps. The screen door snapped shut behind him. A dog barked down the street.
    I felt Peter’s eyes closely scrutinizing my face.
    “Feel like a swim?” I asked, struggling to sound more cheerful.
    “Are you crazy? The water’s freezing. There was ice on it barely a month ago.”
    I puckered my lips. “Yeah, wel , it’s hot enough to fry an egg on your porch today. Come on, why don’t we? We’l be the first ones in after the spring thaw.” I grabbed hold of his sleeve and dragged him the rest of the way up the street.
    I knew I needed to forget about Matt.
    “Why am I friends with you?” Peter asked with a chuckle.
    “Because I’m your neighbor.”
    He was walking too slowly, so I turned around to walk backwards again. I let go of his sleeve and took hold of his hand instead. “Am I going to have
    to drag you the whole way?” I real y wanted to go swimming. I wanted to feel the shock of the icy water on my skin.
    “Probably.”
    I smiled at him. His hand was warm, and I remember thinking that this was no longer a boy’s hand. He had grown tal over the past year.
    There were rough cal uses on his palm. I ran the pad of my thumb over one of them, then felt a strange fluttering in the pit of my bel y.
    Immediately, I dropped my gaze and let go of his hand, and he looked in the other direction toward his house. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, I
    turned to walk beside him again.
    Neither of us spoke for a moment or two, then Peter nudged me in the arm, knocking me sideways. “I’l race ya,” he said, and the fluttering in my
    bel y faded away.
    “Not if I race you first.” We ran up the hil .
    I was breathing hard when we reached my gate. “See you in a few minutes?”
    “Yeah, we’l meet back here.”
    I went inside to