If I Tell

down my cheek. “Simon.” I held my breath. “Do you love my mom?”
    “What?” He glanced up. “Of course I do. She’s the most important thing in the world to me. Her and Joe.”
    I studied the dark, rich color of his skin. He seemed so distraught. And sincere.
    “And you too, kid. You’re part of this too,” he added.
    I bit my lip and reached for my guitar charm. I’d hit him, and he’d kept it quiet. Probably to protect me. I needed to know if he meant it. If he’d be there for the long run. My mom was really sick, and I needed to know if he would be there. I took a deep breath and dropped my eyes.
    “I won’t ever tell her about what happened.”
    Simon stared at me, confused.
    “About Lacey,” I whispered. My heart pounded a melody of panic. “I know.”
    Simon’s features froze. He sat up straighter. “What about Lacey?”
    “I saw you,” I said quietly. “At Marnie’s. With Lacey.”
    Simon’s forehead wrinkled. His brows creased together, but he stayed perfectly still, breathing in and out. I held my breath, waiting for him to deny it. To make an excuse.
    Then he melted. His entire body drooped as if his bones had liquefied. His eyes glistened. He groaned and dropped his head.
    “Oh, God. You saw me kissing her. Oh. God. No wonder. No wonder.” His body shook as he fought back tears, swallowing and gasping for air.
    He looked up at me, his brown eyes drenched with sadness and regret. “No wonder you belted me that day. Man. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t. I honestly thought you hated me because of your dad leaving. I didn’t realize it was because of me.”
    Tears dripped down my cheeks.
    He scratched at his head with both hands. “It was stupid, Jaz. So incredibly stupid. I would never fool around on your mom. That’s something I promised myself when I was a kid. Not after the way my dad acted. I don’t know how it happened. I was so drunk, and all of a sudden we were kissing, and then when I realized what the hell I was doing, I got out of there as fast as I could. I had no idea you saw.”
    I stared at him. “You got out of there?”
    He rubbed his head and looked sick to his stomach.
    “You didn’t sleep with her?”
    He did a double take. His face looked sincerely shocked.
    “Sleep with her?”
    He didn’t. He wasn’t lying. Why hadn’t Lacey told me? I racked my brain, thinking about our conversations. I’d never come right out and asked her, and she probably didn’t remember anyhow. Lacey’s drinking was so bad she had blackouts all the time.
    “I’m a jerk, but not that big of a jerk.” Then he shook his head. “God. I never wanted to hurt your mom. Or you. You’ve got to know that. I was just freaked out when I found out she was pregnant, and I got stupidly drunk. Oh, man. I’m so sorry, Jaz. Your stupid friend of all people. I’m such a fucking idiot.”
    He clamped his hand over his mouth and his eyes widened.
    “Your mom would kill me if she knew I just said ‘fuck’ in front of you.”
    We stared at each other for a second, both of us with eyes wide. The absurdity hit me first. I started to giggle and couldn’t stop. Almost hysterically. Simon joined in, and for a moment we howled like lunatics. Tears streamed down both of our faces. The last thing my mom would be worried about right now was Simon swearing.
    Simon wiped his eyes first, fighting for composure. He swallowed. The laughter disappeared.
    “Now I understand why you’ve been so pissed with me. At McDonald’s…” He swallowed and scratched at his head again. “I was going to tell your mom what I did, but she was so moody and down when she was pregnant, and then the baby came early and then…” He grabbed his head with both hands. “I didn’t know what to do.”
    I held my breath. I didn’t forgive him. Not completely. Not yet. He had some proving to do. But for now, he was here. Remorseful. Mom needed him, and maybe I did too.
    And so I made the decision. For my mom. She couldn’t do it herself. I had to think of her health and her baby. My brother. “Don’t tell her,” I said quietly.
    Simon closed his eyes. “I have to.”
    “No,” I said firmly. “You don’t. The best thing right now is to forget it ever happened. Especially now. She’s sick. The most important thing is to help her get better.”
    Simon didn’t answer for a moment. “I didn’t mean to involve you,” he said, scratching at his head.
    “Well, you did.”
    He looked up, and in