Free Willa by Heart by Coleen Murtagh Paratore Page A

cards right on the table, no bluffin’, and tell the boy you expect the same. And Willa, don’t go getting worry wrinkles over the fish girl.”
    â€œThe fish girl?” I laugh.
    â€œWhat?” Suzy laughs too. “She sounds awful fishy to me, out swimming when any sensible girl would be home getting her beauty sleep. And … we can’t jump to conclusions until we know the facts. Only Joey knows the facts. Now, here’s what you do. There might not be anything to worry about a’tall. Don’t make it into a soap opera or anything, just say real nonchalantly, ‘Hey, Joe, how did you know that girl we saw the other day?’ Now, listen, here’s the key part. Don’t look at him while you’re talking. Be fixing your lipstick or brushing a crumb off the table or something, so it looks like you’re hardly even listening, not concerned a’tall.”
    I have my chance the next day when JFK sits with me in the cafeteria. Tina and Ruby are eating lunch outside, trying to catch some color. “Spring tan training,” Ruby calls it.
    JFK talks about the Red Sox.
    They’re looking good.
    He talks about his baseball team.
    They’re looking good too.
    I wait until just before the bell rings. I take out my new watermelon lip gloss and pull off the top. “Hey, Joseph, I was wondering. How do you know that girl we saw the other day”—I put on some gloss and smack my lips—“outside my grandmother’s store?” I put the top back on the tube. I brush a sandwich crumb off the table. Suzy-Jube would be proud.
    â€œUh …” JFK’s face reddens. He crumples up his sandwich bag.
    Oh, no. Not the reaction I was looking for.
    â€œIt’s sort of awkward,” he says.
    Waves rush into my ears, drowning out his voice. “What do you mean ‘awkward’?” I manage to say.
    â€œI don’t know if I should tell …”
    My face flushes. Beads of sweat are forming on my forehead.
    â€œWhat?” I say. “Tell me.”
Please don’t tell me you used to go out with her….
    â€œOkay We met last year in Hyannis. At a homeless shelter. I think I told you I used to go with mymom to volunteer sometimes. Well, one night when I was there, Mare came in with her baby brother and sister.”
    â€œNico and Sofia?”
    â€œYeah, that’s right. How did you know?”
    â€œNever mind.”
    â€œMare’s father was in the hospital, and their landlord was a real jerk. He locked them out of their apartment because the rent was late. Mare was so embarrassed. ‘We would have paid him back,’ she said. My mother felt bad for them and sort of took Mare under her wing. She brought them clothes and diapers for the babies, helped Mare’s father fill out paperwork for government assistance, even helped them find an apartment here in Bramble….”
    The bell rings.
    â€œWhere was Mariel’s mother?” I ask.
    â€œShe’s an actress,” JFK says. “She had just landed a big role in some production that was touring the country. But Mr. Sanchez got hurt in an accident, and Mrs. Sanchez had to give up the play and come home. Mare said her mother got really depressed, I mean really depressed. Mare couldn’t stand to see her so sad. And so she told her motherto go. Go back to the play, go follow her dreams. Mare said she’d take care of the babies.”
    JFK shakes his head. “Can you believe that? Being that brave? I mean, Mare is just a kid, and she said she’d be the mother so her mother could go be happy.”
    We walk to history class in silence. I feel an overwhelming sense of doom, like a thick curtain of fog is falling on my sunny little world.
    Now I wish JFK had said, “Yeah, we went to the movies once.” Or, “Yeah, we hung out at the mall.” Or even, “Yeah, we used to go out.” That I could deal with.
    But no, this is