Emma sat on the edge of the bed.
“He said they could make fun of him if they wanted, but he wasn’t going to help them make fun of anybody else.”
For the first time in weeks, I felt genuine admiration for Tyler.
Not because he had apologized to Emma.
Not because he had cried.
Because he had finally chosen to do something difficult when there was no guarantee that it would make anyone like him more.
“How did that make you feel?” I asked.
“Good.”
She paused.
“And kind of sad.”
“Why?”
“Because I wish he’d done it before I cried in the bathroom.”
I sat beside her.
“That’s understandable, sweetheart.”
“I told him thank you.”
“That was kind.”
“Then he asked whether we could start over.”
I didn’t interrupt.
“What did you say?”
“I told him I’m glad he stood up for me. And I’m glad he’s trying to be better. But I don’t want to start dating again.”
