Chapter 8Though the night held more than a few hints that winter was well on its way, the sky was clear, the stars sprinkled across the plush blackness, inviting Jett to make childish wishes as he sprawled in the lawn chair Trev had set up in the back yard for him. Dinner had been good, but not because of the Chinese carryout that Trev brought home from a restaurant near his store. Oscar had emerged from his nap, and the camaraderie from lunch returned, a sense of warmth and belonging that he didn’t dare dwell too much on.
Now, he sat outside while Trev cleaned up. Oscar had grown paler as they’d eaten, the stress of the day getting to him, and Jett thought it better to spare his dignity by pretending to need fresh air. Maybe if he’d known Oscar better, or maybe if he was more sure about
