I look over at Silas, who now studies me, his hand to his chin. “You know, ever since last year, it seems like he’s paid more attention to us and less attention to himself, and then there was that girl he was crushing on that OC told us about.” “I, uh . . . I was lying,” OC says. “I didn’t say anything. I was drunk. Medicated. Mistaken. Anything you heard from me was a fabrication.”
