Their friendship seemed to exist mostly because of history.
I had never thought much about it.
At six thirty, the front door opened.
Maya walked in holding hands with Evan.
My first thought was that he looked nervous.
My second was that I understood why Maya had warned us.
Evan was thin and pale, with dyed black hair that fell almost to his jaw.
His fingernails were painted black.
Dark eyeliner framed his eyes, and tattoos covered part of his left forearm.
He wore black jeans, heavy boots, and an old band shirt.
His appearance was dramatic, but there was something shy about the way he stood beside Maya.
“Mom, Dad, this is Evan.”
I smiled.
“Hi, Evan.”
Daniel didn’t respond.
He simply stared.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Daniel’s eyes widened.
He stood so quickly that his chair shifted behind him.
“No.”
Maya blinked.
“What?”
Daniel looked directly at Evan.
“I think you should leave.”
I laughed at first because I assumed this was another badly timed father joke.
Then I saw Daniel’s face.
He was serious.
“Daniel?”
“I’m sorry, but he needs to go.”
Maya tightened her grip on Evan’s hand.
“Dad, what is wrong with you? You haven’t even talked to him.”
