Page 52

She goes on for a minute more, with a lot of excitement and even one case of jazz hands, before Sam subtly reaches over and unmutes them.

“Anyway, I just love you, Lenore,” Tessa says with a smile. “I’m so excited for you.”

“Thank you, girl. I love you too.”

“So, what are you two doing in this... white room, anyway?” Sam asks, obviously trying to change the subject. “Shouldn’t you be out exploring—where are you now? Greece? France?”

“It’s a sea day,” I say. “We just left Greece, and the ship’s heading back to Italy next. What’s our next stop again?” I turn to Alex.

“Naples,” he says. “Today I’m annoying Lenore and making her take quizzes to find out her true destiny.” He laughs, but when he’s met with Tessa’s and Sam’s confused stares and my subtle shake of the head, it peters out.

Another topic I was trying to avoid. Jesus, when did a simple conversation with my friends become such a minefield?

“Oh no, it looks like our time on the internet is running out! Damnit! Every minute costs like a million dollars. It’s so ridiculous. Anyway, I love you guys! Bye!”

“Well, call us again when you can. When is the—” I click out of the window before Tessa can finish her question.

When I turn to Alex, he’s looking at me with amusement, but also concern.

“They don’t know how uncertain you are, do they?” he says slowly. “Or how much you don’t want to live in New York? And this deadline your parents gave you? Have you talked to... uh, Tessa? About any of it?”

“No, but it’s, like, a recent development.” His eyebrow arches to signal he doesn’t buy that. “It’s just...” I try again. “It’s too much to get into with Tessa. You saw how she’s kindof a steamroller. It’s easier to just be... easy.”

“Isn’t she your best friend, though? I mean, you toldmeall about it.”

I did tell him. And I didn’t even really hesitate. Why is that?

“Yeah, she is, but...” I turn my attention back to the screen. Log myself out. Shut the computer down. “I don’t know. It’s different with you.”

“Oh yeah?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah. Because, well, we’re in a bubble. Who knows if we’ll even see each other again after next week.”

I know it’s more than that. What, I’m not exactly sure yet. But I’m scared to analyze it—to look too close, too much, until all the shininess loses its luster.

I turn to face Alex, and he’s biting his lip, frowning. But when I pull my camera up to my eye, his face shifts back into a grin. I center him in the viewfinder. His shiny curls, the parentheses framing his smile, his brown eyes lit up the way they always seem to be when we’re trading jabs. I push the shutter button, capturing him just as he is, right now.

Chapter Thirteen

“... and so we’ve all made it through the scanner, they’ve done the pat-down on me because they always do, all right? But our bagsstillaren’t out. So we’re looking around and then the TSA agent comes up behind me and is all, ‘I need you to come with us,’ and the other guy, the one behind the machine, is looking at us all crazy, with these big ol’ bug eyes like they’re going to pop out of his head.” My dad has everyone’s attention at the dinner table—even mine, and I know how this story ends. “So I say,” he continues. “I say, ‘Who? Me? Because, all of my respect, sir, but your colleague over there has just inspected me more thoroughly than my wife has done in months.’” He pauses as everyone laughs, an expert at working an audience. It’s why he’s such a great trial lawyer.

“But then the man’s face gets real serious, and we follow him right quick because we’re trying to get to my parents’ place in Florida, not be some viral video on the Facebook. And theybring us over to this table, and I’m expecting—well, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t Lenore’s My Little Pony backpack.” He winks at me, and Alex whips his head around and waggles his eyebrows in my direction, taken with this plot twist. “‘Sir, is this your backpack?’ he asks me, and I told him, ‘Well, it’s my daughter’s, as I’m more partial to Pinkie Pie than Rainbow Dash.’ And my man doesn’t even crack a smile. Instead he starts grilling me, talking ’bout, where are we headed? And is this really your family? I was respectful, all right, because I could tell it was getting serious, but what I really wanted to tell him was, ‘Do you see their paddle feet? Of course these kids are mine!’”

Another chorus of laughter, and Alex pulls the tablecloth up, trying to see my feet. I swat him away, letting my hands linger longer than they need to.

“But then he puts on these gloves, and starts pulling stuff out of Lenore’s backpack. And that’s when I started to actually get worried. Because, you see, we didn’t help her pack the thing. Etta was little, we were still getting used to having three of them, and then traveling across the country for the first time? She was on her own! But instead of crayons and Barbies, my man starts pulling out pliers and foil and an old phone charger and this metal wire and I think even a hammer—”

“There wasnota hammer, Dad,” I interrupt him, and he waves that away with his fork.

“And I was cracking jokes before, but now I’m speechless, because how can I explain all of this stuff in our ten-year-old’splastic backpack? Honestly, it could have gone either way, and one of those ways was us not flying to see my mama for her big birthday. But!”

I feel the tension and see everyone lean in, like I’ve watched the jurors and the audience and even the judge do when Dad’s in court.

“Lenore starts crying, talking ’bout how it’s the materials for a mixed media sculpture she’s working on. Just like that, ‘mixed media sculpture’! At ten! So, she’s bawling, snot dripping down her face, and the guy—all of the people working there!—they felt bad, so bad that they were apologizing to us, gave her a handful of these lollipops that had the American flag on them.”

“Did she get to keep her materials?” Dr. Lee asks.

“Oh, no!” Dad says with a laugh, slapping the table. “But they did drive us up to our gate and give us priority boarding. We were still in coach by the bathrooms, but at least we got to get there first!”