In the Shadow of Satellites by Amanda Dick Page A

he just happened to be the only one around at the time. Further justification that I need to be alone.
    I look over at him, silently praying he’ll let it lie, because I don’t really have the stamina to keep doing this. He’s trying to solve me again. I guess part of the reason I don’t want to get to know him better is because that’ll involve him getting to know me, and I’m almost certain I’m not ready for that.
    “Why were you having a bad day?”
    I want to laugh it off, but I’m not sure I can, without the laugh turning hysterical. Instead, I shrug and go back to staring at my beer.
    “Y’know. The usual.”
    It’s the truth, but it won’t mean anything to him. I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t dig any deeper. I don’t think I could handle that, not right now. Not ever, actually. Especially not with someone who didn’t know James or Kieran, and who doesn’t know me. Maybe I should just go home. It might be safer that way. I’m not equipped for this conversation. This is exactly what I was afraid of – getting myself into this situation and not being able to get myself out of it without losing what’s left of my dignity.
    “Sorry,” he says, before I can run. “It’s none of my business, you’re right.”
    Out of the corner of my eye, I see him stand up.
    “I didn’t say that. I –“
    “No, it’s okay. You didn’t have to.”
    He walks over to the pile of timber and sits down beside me. We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, which feels like a lot longer. The sun beats down on us, and there is a very gentle breeze that ruffles my hair but does nothing to soothe my ragged soul. The lake is calm, as always, but I can almost feel it simmering beneath the surface. Or maybe that’s just me.
    “We all have bad days,” he says after a while. “It’s just life. Someone once told me that the trick is to let it happen. We can’t control them anymore than we can control the good days. They’ll come, but they won’t last forever. They’re just a blip on the radar, that’s all.”
    I don’t dare look at him because I’m just barely hanging on. I’m sure he knows that. I’m sure he can hear my heart thundering and he can see my cheeks, on fire with the effort it’s taking to keep myself still. One false move, one foot wrong, and I will disintegrate into a thousand pieces. Regardless, my mind is not still. My mind is like a whirling dervish.
    “I’m hungry,” he says, out of the blue. “Are you hungry? I’ll get us something to eat.”
    I want to say no, I’m not hungry. In fact, I feel sick. But he’s already digging around in one of the boxes outside his tent, and in any case, it feels very much like a rhetorical question because he didn’t even wait for an answer. Geezer comes over to sit down beside me, leaning against my leg, and I reach down to rub his ears. Luke looks up and sees us, flashing a crooked smile.
    “He really has taken a shine to you. He must sense that you’re a dog person.”
    “I’m not… a dog person, that is. I’ve never really had much to do with dogs.”
    He falls back on his haunches and raises his eyebrows.
    “Really? Not even as a kid?”
    I shake my head.
    “No, not even then.”
    Grandad was allergic, but I don’t tell him that. That’s a conversation starter and I’m not ready for one of those. I sink my hand into the long fur on the back of Geezer’s neck, and he nuzzles further into my leg. My heart has stopped racing and I don’t feel so dizzy anymore. When I see that Luke has whipped us up a sandwich each, I even begin to feel pangs of hunger. I haven’t had anything to eat today, and my stomach has chosen now to remind me.
    He walks back over to the makeshift bench and hands me a sandwich, then settles down beside me again.
    “Sorry,” he says, as I take a quick look inside, spying what looks like tuna. “It’s not much, but it’ll fill a hole. I need to go grocery shopping. I’m out of the good stuff.”
    “The