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I sink in relief. “Yes.”

“Whatever you need,” my dad replies eagerly. “We’ll be your number one cheerleaders. Right, Jess?”

She nods. “Absolutely. I have some time in the morning if you want me to sit down with you. We can do some research, figure out your next steps. I’d be happy to come down to Venice.”

Filled with gratitude, I smile. “That sounds great. Want to grab breakfast, too?”

“Definitely.”

“Can I come?” asks my dad.

Jessica and I exchange a glance. We shake our heads in unison. Dad sighs in exaggerated disappointment, but there’s a twinkle in his eye.

“A master’s degree in education psychology?” echoes Jameson, eyes wide as he lowers the mug of coffee from his mouth. “That’s for what, being a school counselor?”

“Yep,” I confirm. “A middle school guidance counselor to be exact. Jessica helped me look at some local programs. With loans and working full-time, I think I can do it in two or three years.”

He blinks. “Holy shit, Meerkat. I can honestly say that sounds perfect for you.”

“You think so? That’s what Dad and Jessica said, too.” I chew my lip, scratching Ferdi absently while staring out a nearby window. “I feel a little bit like I’m making a huge leap in a potentially wrong direction. Twenty-eight is a little old to completely shift directions. What if I can’t do it?”

Jameson leans forward, catching my gaze with his. He wears a dead-serious expression I’ve secretly dubbed the Sloan Lawyer Face. Dad has the same one.

“It’s never too late, and we are not old. Mia, you have always done exactly what you wanted to, no matter how far-fetched or impossible-sounding it was. Remember senior year when those dumb girls dared you to try and win the prom queen nomination? What did you do?”

I roll my eyes. “I hardly think that’s an equal comparison.”

Jameson ignores me. “You won! The wild surfer girl who preferred graffitiing the vice principal’s car over going to class.”

“Hey, I was never caught for that! And anyway, I always did my homework and got good grades.”

Jameson chuckles. “My point, thank you. You didn’t even want to be prom queen, but you won because you set your mind to it. You hated school, but you excelled because you loved learning.” He sits back, smug and triumphant. “Look at everything you’ve been through, how far you’ve come. You’re ideal guidance counselor material. Besides, kids love you.”

Another bit of my worry falls away. “Thanks, Jaybird. For being here. Letting me lean on you. I feel like I’m starting over again—or starting for the first time. It’s a little scary.”

He nods. “I’m always here for you, sis. You know who else would really like to?—”

“Not yet.”

He sighs.

47

GREEN FLASH

I’m ready.

A total of sixteen days have passed since I last saw or heard from Leo. Sixteen excruciating, transforming, scary-as-fuck days. My phone weighs a thousand pounds as I dial his number. Despite timing my call for when I know he’s working and won’t be able to answer, I’m so nervous I’m breathless.

His recorded voice, though sterile and professional, still fills me with anticipation. God, I miss him. Using the script Dr. Wilson helped me with, I leave my carefully worded voicemail. Then I wait.

And wait.

At six o’clock in the evening, he responds.

I’ll be there.

I barely sleep that night out of excitement and fear. I know there’s a chance this will go horribly wrong. That my abrupt withdrawal caused him to reevaluate his feelings and whether or not he wants a relationship with me. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take. A risk I have to take.