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“I also bought ham and turkey and three different kinds of cheese, just in case,” Mama continues.

“Okay,” I say, knowing if I don’t agree, Mama will take it personally. “I’ll take a cold lunch.”

Mama’s face lights up as she stands. “I’ll be right back.”

Once she leaves, Annie peers up from her book. “Really?”

I shrug. “It’ll make her happy.”

“You’re encouraging her. Now she’ll want to make you sandwiches for the rest of the year.”

“At least there are three different kinds of cheese.”

“Just don’t come for my pizza at lunchtime,” she says.

I chuckle. “Oh, come on. It’s not like you’re going to eat it. You have the appetite of a mouse. Speaking of which...” I lean over the table, take her toast, and lift it to Annie’s mouth. “Sayah.”

Annie’s brow furrows, and she glares. “I was going—”

I shove the toast into her mouth.

“You were saying?”

She takes a bite and sets the leftover toast back on the plate. “Margo, sometimes you’re too pushy, and one day you’re going to get yourself in trouble.”

I wouldn’t have to be pushy if she would do things without being forced. “Was it good?”

“That’s not the point.”

I take a sip of my juice. “Well, was it?”

She hesitates before nodding and taking another bite.

“See. I knew it,” I say.

Annie isn’t the type of person to drive headfirst into anything. She needs to be pushed; otherwise, she’ll never get anywhere. If she had it her way, she’d never go to school or hang out with friends. She’d probably starve because she’d get too invested in her reading and forget to eat. She needs to be pushed, she needs me.

After breakfast we head to the car. Even though we’re the same age, I never learned to drive. Annie took classes last year, but I wasn’t up to it yet. I always said I’d take them eventually, but it never happened. Instead, she chauffeurs me around, and I think I prefer it that way. I know if I were driving, she’d have her head in a book, reading. This way, she has to keep her eyes on the road, and I can talk to her about whatever I want. It’s our time together. It’s sacred.

“Are you excited for school?” I ask.

She raises an eyebrow. “Did you forget who you’re talking to?”

“Come on, Annie. It’s our senior year!” This is supposed to be the best year of high school. “This is your last chance to have fun before you’re an adult.”

“It’s not that serious.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to try out for a sport or go to a party,” I say.

She laughs. “Actually, I think that just might kill me.”

I sigh. “Well, maybe you can join a book club.”

“Maybe, but I have an interview after school today.”

I sit up so fast my seatbelt jerks me back down. “You do? Since when?”

“It’s for the cute little bookstore downtown.”