“Duh. I work at a kitchen supply store—how much money do you think I make?”
There wasn’t a line at the yogurt place, which was nice. Grace wasn’t sure what she would do if she recognized someone from school. Or Janie. Or Max. The thought made nervous sweat pop up along her spine.
In front of her, Rafe squinted at the toppings. “What do you think? Yogurt chips?”
Grace shook her head. “No, they get stuck in your teeth.”
“Wise, so wise.” He reached for the Fruity Pebbles, shaking some onto his yogurt, then gummy bears. Grace took some pomegranate seeds, then some strawberries, before realizing that she was choosing things that would be healthy for Peach. When things had felt so out of control, all Grace could do was make sure she was healthy, so she had learned about antioxidants and omega-3s and folic acid.
Grace set down the strawberries and reached for the cookie dough bits instead.
“You know that that has raw egg in it, which could give you salmonella and—”
Grace looked Rafe right in the eye this time, then popped some dough in her mouth.
“Okay then,” he said. “Moving on.”
When they got to the register, Grace handed the cashier the money her mom had given her. “Wait, I thought this wasn’t a date!” Rafe yelped. “You can’t pay.”
“Courtesy of my mom,” Grace told him. “And her insomniac ways.”
“Nice,” Rafe said. “Tell her thanks. And now I wish I had gotten extra gummy bears.”
“You don’t mind?” Grace took her change from the cashier. “The last boyfriend I had always paid for everything.” She led them to a booth as far away as possible from the shop’s windows.
“Fancy guy. Does he go to our school?”
Grace nodded.
“And he’s your ex?”
Grace nodded again.
“I’m really enjoying this game of charades, by the way. First word, sounds like?”
Grace smiled and took her spoon out of her mouth. “The guy that I punched? It was his best friend.”
Rafe’s eyes widened. “Wow. You’re ice cold.”
“He deserved it.” Grace watched as a mom pushed a stroller past the window, hustling to get wherever she was going.
Rafe started stirring the Fruity Pebbles into his yogurt, making the colors bleed into a rainbow swirl. “So, are you going to tell me why you punched your ex-boyfriend’s best friend and why your parents didn’t ground you for it and why you don’t come to school anymore?”
“How do you know I don’t go to school anymore?” Grace’s phone buzzed again, a reminder notice.
Rafe shrugged. “I notice things.”
“You really want to know?”
He nodded.
Grace took a breath, looking out the window again. The mom and the stroller were gone. “Because I got pregnant and had a baby last month.” The words rolled out of her mouth like they had been waiting to escape.
Rafe blinked. “You have a baby?”
“I had a baby. I gave her up for adoption.” Grace had to force those words out. “She’s with a really good family, though.”
That sharp, piercing love pain stabbed her right between the ribs.
Rafe nodded to himself. He was still stirring the yogurt, and it was turning a pinkish shade of gray. “Wow. Okay. Wow.”
“The guy I punched, it was Adam—my ex Max’s best friend—and on my first day back, he played the sound of a baby crying on his phone.” Grace shrugged, like that was something that happened to normal, average, nice people every single day. “I just lost it.”
“What was her name?”
Grace looked up. No one had asked her that question. No one had ever asked about Peach since the day she had been born. “Milly,” she said. “Amelía. But I called her, um, Peach. In my head, that’s what I call her.”
“Do you miss her?”
Grace nodded and took a bite of yogurt before Rafe could see her chin wobble. “Every day.”
“And your ex?”
“He didn’t want anything to do with her. His parents, they pretty much said no way. He signed away his rights about two seconds after he found out about her.”
“This is the same guy who paid for everything on your dates?” When Grace nodded, Rafe sat back in his chair and let out a long sigh. “Well, chivalry is officially dead. Who wants a guy who can buy you frozen yogurt but not take care of a baby?”
“You didn’t even buy me frozen yogurt,” she pointed out.
“Fair point,” he said. “You can’t count on anyone anymore.” His tone was soft, though. Grace knew that he wasn’t being mean. She had gotten good at being able to tell the difference in people’s voices,