Free The Moon Tells Secrets by Savanna Welles

closely watching his reaction.
    Davey stiffened and shook his head, staring down at the board. “My mom wants me to do that?”
    â€œNo, it’s my idea.”
    â€œNaw, that would be weird,” he’d said to the board, chin propped in his hand as he concentrated. “And they’d probably think I was weird.”
    â€œWeird? How come they’d think that?”
    â€œBecause I am.” An amused glint sparkled in Davey’s eyes behind his new glasses. He’d recently replaced his Harry Potter specs with “cooler” glasses.
    â€œNot any weirder than anybody else,” Cade had said, painful memories from his own childhood shooting through him. His shame about his father had made him too shy to reach out. He was also small for his age, and easy to bully. “Weird” would have been one of the nicer things kids called him. “Everybody is weird sometimes.”
    â€œNot weird like me.”
    â€œSo what makes you weirder than anybody else?”
    Davey shrugged, and Cade continued. “It’s not because you’re biracial, is it? Everybody has a little bit of everybody else in them. Like the president. Look at him! Be proud of every part of you.” Cade wondered if the boy knew much about his Navajo heritage and was thinking that might be a good thing for them to focus on in their studies. “My wife was into Navajo history and mythology. That was what she was studying.”
    â€œFor real?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œBut she died, right?”
    â€œYeah. She did.” Davey’s question had surprised and puzzled him.
    â€œCheck!” Davey said, skirting his bishop to challenge Cade’s king and change the subject. When they first began to play, he’d let Davey win nearly every game. Not anymore.
    â€œNot quite!” Cade defended his king with his queen, and Davey chuckled with an impish grin. “Good move, though.”
    They’d played in silence for a while, Cade thinking about Dennie and wishing he hadn’t brought her up. He glanced at Davey, tried another question.
    â€œSo do your friends think you’re weird, too, or just the plain, run-of-the-mill kids?”
    Davey took a sip from the glass of apple juice sitting on the table beside the board. It was a tiny sip, and Cade smiled to himself. He’d never seen a kid who could make a glass of juice last so long.
    â€œPlain, run-of-the-mill kids.”
    â€œBut not your good friends, right?”
    â€œNope, not them. But, like, I only had, like, two good friends here. Plus, I never showed them my weird side.”
    â€œHave I ever seen it?”
    Davey shrugged. “If you saw it, you’d know it.”
    Cade waited a minute or two, and then asked, “How would I know I was seeing it?”
    â€œYou just would.”
    â€œLike, what school were you at, anyway?”
    â€œAcross town,” Davey said too quickly.
    â€œWhere across town?”
    It had been a cheap attempt to find out more than was offered, and Davey wasn’t fooled; he shrugged again. Cade knew enough about kids to leave it alone, but still wondered about a boy so full of secrets and if he’d ever trust him enough to share what was bothering him. And Raine, too. Something was always eating at her, seemed like she was always just a beat away from turning tail and running. He’d noticed that when she’d linger for a quick chat about Davey’s progress after their sessions.
    He’d never inquired about her future plans, and she didn’t offer them. Once, he’d casually asked what school Davey was registered to attend in the fall, and she told him she hadn’t yet decided. If it’s around here, I’d be glad to reach out to his teachers, he’d said, and she cut him off, smiling shyly, studying her cup of tea as assiduously as Davey studied the chessboard, a glass of apple juice, or his hands, when he had no other prop. She’d