Page 60 of Mad Mabel

“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “Go on! Off with you. Christos is waiting.”

I hesitated only a second. “All right,” I said. “Sure. Why not?”

For some reason or another, Christos and I never got on our bikes. Instead, we pushed them as we walked along. I was grateful that Christos seemed to be a talker. He kept conversation going easily—not with as much intensity as Daphne did, but in a comforting way that allowed me to relax.

“My whole family calls my uncle Beanstalk,” Christos was saying, guiding his bike casually with one hand, “because he’s tall. I thought it was a funny nickname. I definitely didn’t mean anything like Billy suggested.”

I had no idea what to say to that, so I just nodded.

“I think he likes you, for what it’s worth. Billy, I mean.”

“Nonsense. Are you crazy?”

“Nope.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because he wanted to play spin the bottle the moment you came up at the beach. I’m sure you know that we hadn’t been playing that before you arrived.”

“Of course I knew.”

“Because you’re smart. Which is one of the things he likes about you. Billy, in case you hadn’t noticed, isn’t.”

I rolled my eyes, but I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. We continued walking along.

“I get it,” Christos said after a while. “I’m no genius, and I like the smart girls too. I think it’s an evolutionary thing, for our survival. If we’re not smart, we have to bag a smart girl.”

“I doubt he’ll be bagging anyone now,” I said.

He laughed. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

We walked a little farther in silence. Then, as we turned the corner, I asked: “Do they really believe I hurt Billy? And my mother? And my baby sister?”

Christos shrugged. “I have no idea what people believe. But I would guess they don’t care if you did or not.”

“Then why—”

“For whatever reason, you’re the common enemy. People need one. For bonding. And for keeping themselves out of the firing line. Also evolutionary, I think.” This time he didn’t laugh. “But very unfair.”

We’d reached the point where I needed to turn left to go to my place, and Christos needed to continue straight.

“You’re smarter than you think, Christos,” I said.

He smiled shyly. “If it makes a difference, Mabel, I don’t believe you killed anyone. You’re not a killer. It’s as obvious as the nose on your face.”

His brown eyes were so full of compassion, I had to look away.

“See you at school,” I said.

I started wheeling my bike toward my house. I’d only walked a few paces when he called out to me.

“Mabel?”

I turned around.

“If Billy survives, and you do decide to kill him? No one will hear it from me.”

He held up his hand in a Scout’s honor. And, despite all odds, I found myself chuckling the rest of the way home.