Free My Cousin's Keeper by Simon French Page B

remembering the argument she’d had with her mom in the supermarket. It had been about this, the school photo. About Julia staying away from the camera.
    And then, just as the camera began clicking, Julia stood up and strode over.
    â€œI’m in!” she announced, and some of the girls cheered. She wriggled her way to a standing position in the middle row and her face lit up. I
really
liked that smile. Below her in the second row, Bon smiled as well. The two of them looked pleased and content, as though there had been no bullying on the playground, no arguments in the supermarket. I saw their happy faces and swallowed — hard.
    When it came to our turn, I made sure I got into the back row, along with Mason, Lucas, and the cool kids. I figured that somebody was bound to make a face for the camera, or make rabbit ears with their fingers behind someone’s head. It was another of those moments where I told myself it was easier hoping to be friends with Mason and Lucas, and all the other kids I’d ever known. Staying friends with them meant not being left out of things.
    It seemed to take forever for the photographer to get our class just right, to have everybody standing just so. I watched as Miss McLennan gathered her class together and led them to the library for the individual portrait shots. Of course, Julia and Bon walked away together, and I could see them smiling and talking to each other. I wondered all over again about Julia’s mom disliking the idea of school photos so much, and about Julia changing her own mind when it had nearly been too late.
    I couldn’t get Bon’s happy face out of my head.
    He’s going to be here for a long time
, Nan had said.
    Then I thought about Gina and how I’d sometimes see her run up to him on the playground and take his hand, smiling and talking to him in a way she never seemed to do much anymore with me.
    â€œWhen can Bon come to our house for another sleepover?” she had asked Mom more than once.
    But the next time would be a lot more than a sleepover.

“Kieran’s got his flame hat on,” Gina said. “His head is on fire! Help, help!” She and her friend Emily fell into helpless giggles.
    â€œHa-ha,” I replied in a bored voice. “It was only funny the first time, Gina. This is about the twenty-third time I’ve heard you say it.” And I turned my attention back to soccer practice.
    I had been asked to look out for Gina, and also for Bon, while Mom and Nan had dinner out with Aunt Renee. It seemed like a strange way for Mom and Nan to spend a Thursday evening, and I wasn’t happy at all about Bon arriving at the soccer field, the taillights of his mom’s hatchback bumping away onto the road that led back to the center of town. She had not even gotten out to walk Bon over and say hello; he found his own way to where we were all gathered to watch my dad and his team prepare for the weekend game. Bon looked a bit lost and unsure of where he was, but for a while, Gina and Emily took charge of him with their talk and laughter. And I was left alone.
    The sun had fallen behind the western hills, and the playing-field floodlights flickered on. Even with the warmth of my wool cap and winter jacket, I could feel the night chill beginning to rise from the damp ground.
    Dad and his teammates ran and dodged in patterns around one another. They stepped quickly to the left and right, before breaking into sprints from the halfway line to the goal zone. They called instructions to one another as each part of the practice unfolded. We watched from the sidelines: kids, wives, and girlfriends in talkative groups, little clouds of breath from us beginning to show as the air turned cold and the evening darkened.
    I kept most of my attention on Dad, but also watched Ant and Split Pin, Terry, Ray, Jacko, and all the other guys I knew. I watched their moves and techniques, especially when the soccer ball was kicked onto