He sat back in surprise. “You volunteer with kids?”
“Yeah,” I threw out like it was no big deal. “I’ve got lots of free time since you sabotaged my social life.”
He studied me with a contemplative look. “You could have spent that time doing anything else. Volunteering isn’t usually the first thing to come to mind when people are bored.”
I shrugged, feeling no compunction to explain to him something he could never understand. He was too self-centered to know how wonderful it felt to do something nice for someone else, how making someone else happy was its own reward. I wasn’t actually a formal volunteer, but I had befriended a younger girl I saw often at the YMCA where I went swimming and played volleyball. Zoey seemed lonely as she watched other kids playing together in the pool,
