trimmings : mustard , coleslaw , and sour pickles I could smell right through the grease-splotched bag .
I put it in the fridge and asked him to sit with me for a little quiet time before we had lunch .
He must have figured something was up , but he complied , sitting down at the table and lacing his fingers . “ I spoke to Linda after school yesterday .” He looked at me , his head cocked , his eyes locked onto mine . I waited . He waited . Neither of us was eager to break the silence . Still , I had to find out . But I also had to be careful . I really didn ’ t know anything , and even if I did , I hoped I was wrong .
“ Linda told me everything ,” I whispered with pinched lips and an understanding nod . There I said it . “ She what ?” he shrieked , his voice guttural with fury and disbelief . His brow folding in outrage , his eyes bugged , raw hatred glittering in their depths .
“ Everything ,” I repeated , as I reached across the table to grasp his hand . It felt like a fish on ice .
Quivering with rage , he yanked his hand away and slapped the table so hard , the knife rattled . “ That bitch ! How dare she ! We pledged to keep our relationship a secret so as not to hurt you !”
I swallowed my own shock and spoke in a voice leached of emotion . “ Well , why don ’ t you tell me your side ?”
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