Free My Cousin's Keeper by Simon French

birthday parties he wasn’t invited to and was part of playground games he would always be left out of.
    But I couldn’t ignore the fact that Julia was his friend and protector. He went on hanging around her friends and their conversations. She walked him around the playground, the two of them nodding, talking, and, I guessed, sharing secrets. At the end of some lunch breaks, I’d see them coming out of the school library, along with the other kids who liked books or chess.
    â€œHi, Julia,” I’d say whenever we passed each other on the way to class lines, or were waiting near each other in the cafeteria to buy snacks. It was always an effort to say anything else to her, and I found myself hoping she would say something more in return.
    But she’d always reply, “Hi, Kieran,” and give me a look I read as,
I’ve seen how you and your friends treat Bon. You’re still not looking out for him, are you?
    And at the end of some school days, I’d often see Julia and Bon stopped somewhere short of the school gates, sitting on the grass near the school office. If they weren’t talking, they’d simply be sitting and watching everyone else walk by. Now that Julia often rode her bike to school, I didn’t see her mom at the school gate anymore. So Bon and Julia taking their time was as though they were putting off their journeys home, to a trailer park and a hotel room.
    â€œWe should wait for Bon,” Gina would sometimes say at the gate. “He can walk with us some of the way home.”
    I would shake my head. I didn’t want Bon to get the idea that he was welcome to walk to or from school with us anytime he liked. Having him with us for some of the time already was more than enough. So I chose different ways to get home, along the other streets that would lead us to our own. I tried to ignore Gina’s complaints about the extra hill to walk up and the scarier dogs that lived at several houses along the way. Bon could find his own way to his own home.
    â€œI can see Bon over there,” Gina said.
    â€œHe’s with his friend Julia,” I told her. “He’ll be a while yet. Come on, let’s go.”
    â€œBut I want him to walk with us,” she insisted.
    â€œNo, Gina. Come
on
,” I urged, watching as Julia took off on her purple bike.
    Gina sighed, disappointed. “All right.”
    I hurried her along a bit so that Bon wouldn’t spot us and want to catch up. I led Gina the longer way, down the hilly sidewalks to the Sheridan Street shops.
    â€œI want a snack,” Gina announced as we came to the supermarket. “Chips or gummy worms? I can’t decide.”
    â€œOnly if you share,” I told her. “And it’s not one of Mom’s workdays, so you’ll have to spend your own money.”
    Gina dropped her school backpack on the sidewalk and triumphantly pulled out a coin purse. “I’ve got spending money.” She grinned.
    â€œAisle six,” I reminded her as we walked inside.
    â€œChips or gummy worms?” she repeated to herself as she disappeared into the aisle. “I still can’t decide.”
    For Gina, these decisions were never quick, so I had time to wander around a little. I stopped to look at the magazine racks.
    Then I heard the voices.
    â€œYou are not getting your photo taken,” said a hushed, annoyed voice that I recognized.
    â€œI
am.
” This time it was Julia’s voice, not quite as hushed. “I haven’t had a school photo for two years. You can’t stop me.”
    They were in the aisle right next to where I stood, and I peered along the gaps in the shelves until I could catch a glimpse of them. I couldn’t see their faces, but I could see the top Julia had worn to school that day, and I recognized the silver bangle on one wrist.
    Her mom wore jeans and a black jacket. “I’ll keep you at home,” she said in an urgent