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It’s like stepping between parentheses. Being home doesn’t feel like real life. It feels like a pause. Like a side quest.

Mom’s car is in the driveway, because of course it is. The boss fight I never asked for. Turns out, she’s in the kitchen,

baking chocolate chip cookies with Audrey.

“Oh, honey, you’re back!” she says. “How was it?”

“Good. It was fine.” I set down my duffel.

“You know,” Mom says, with transparently fake nonchalance. “I’m so sorry your phone stopped working.”

“Your phone broke?” asks Audrey.

“Well, it must have! Otherwise, I’m sure your sister would have texted me back. Especially when—”

“Okay, I’m sorry!” I say. “I just—I forgot.”

The oven beeps loudly—I guess it just finished preheating. I stare at it dazedly for a second, before nudging my bag toward

the wall with the tip of my sneaker.

I should have just stayed at the twins’ house. Should have ripped Claire’s stupid poster out of her hands and torn it to shreds.

Blown the pieces down the street like a puff of dandelion seeds.

Mom’s scooping out cookie dough, laying it onto a baking sheet in straight, tidy rows. She sets the baking sheet aside when she’s done, pulling a second one closer. If it were me, I’d shove the first batch in the oven right now, just to keep things moving.

“I think I’ll head upstairs,” I say, a little too quickly.

Audrey raises her eyebrows. “Already?”

“I mean, I had a six-hour drive today, so.”

Mom winces. “I bet Zora’s exhausted.”

“She’s still at Blackwell.”

My mom’s face turns to stone. “I beg your pardon?”

“Coming back tomorrow,” I add quickly, cheeks warming.

Mom sets down the cookie scooper, staring me down. “Who drove you home?”

“Um. Walter.”

“The YouTuber?”

Audrey bursts out laughing. “Yeah, right.”

“You don’t have to believe—”

A sudden buzz in my pocket makes every thought in my brain fly away. I reach for my phone so quickly, it almost slips out

of my hands. All I can hear is my own hammering heartbeat.

Text from Nat: hey, she’s gone. are you already home?

For a moment, I just stare at the screen, barely breathing.

Then the phone buzzes again in my hands. can you come back??

“Amelia?” Mom asks.

I look up with a start. “I need a ride.”

“Maybe you should call Walter.” Audrey’s voice is threaded with laughter.

“Shut up.” I turn to Mom. “Can I take the car?”

“Mm. Can it wait an hour? I’m dropping Audrey off at Lily’s house as soon as the cookies are out.”

“Lily B.,” Audrey says firmly. “ Not Lily R.”

“No!” It seems to rip straight from my chest. “No. Sorry. It can’t wait an hour. Natalie needs—” I stop short. “I don’t know,

she doesn’t need me. But she asked me to come over, and I need to go now.” My heart twists. “Okay? It’s really, really important.”

“Because you’re in love with her?” asks Audrey.

I open my mouth and then shut it. “Excuse me?”

“She has a point,” Mom says.

I almost sputter. “What the heck! We’ve never even kissed!”

“Really? Huh. Guess I owe Dad five bucks.”

“You guys bet on me?”

“ I did. He bet against you.” She opens the fridge, moving a few things around to make room for the cookie sheets. Then she turns

the oven off. “Okay, come on, Little Miss Grand Gesture. I’ll drive you.”

“Grand gesture? Eww, I’m not Claire!”

Mom raises her eyebrows expectantly.

“Thanks for the ride,” I mutter.

“You’re welcome,” Mom says, grabbing her purse off the counter.

The walk to the car makes me feel outside of time. All my tenses are scrambled. I step, and I stepped, and I’m stepping, have

stepped, will step, out my front door. Across the front yard.

Audrey trails behind me. “You should sing like you did for Walter on Instagram,” she suggests.

I whirl around. “You never saw that.”

“Yeah I did. I was in your closet when you recorded it.”

“You were spying on me?” I turn to gape at Mom. “Are you hearing this?”

“I wasn’t spying . Just getting some stuff.”

Mom turns our front door key, looking slightly alarmed. “Audrey, what did you take?”

“Just some shoes.”

“Sweetie, those won’t fit you.”

“I know . They’re for later.”

“Okay! I don’t care,” I say loudly. “Guys, come on.” I yank the passenger door open, texting Nat the moment I’m buckled.

Mom eases the car into reverse. “So, how does this work?” she asks, like it’s just polite conversation. Normal ride. Normal

day. Just a regular old drop-off at Nat’s.

“How does what work?”

“Do you know what you’re going to say? If you want to rehearse—”

“Are you joking ?” I bark out a laugh. Not the polite conversational kind.

“I don’t know! It might be nice to go in prepared, right? Doesn’t have to be a speech. Maybe just an outline?”

“You could write it on notecards,” says Audrey.

“This isn’t a committee decision!”

Mom slows to a stop at a red light, turning to face me. “I just want you to make good choices—”

“She’s not great at that.” Audrey winces.

“Whoa—”

“I didn’t say you were bad ! Just not great—”

“Please shut up. Please .” I twist in my seat to scowl at her.

Mom shakes her head. “Amelia, I know this is stressful, but please don’t take it out on your sister.”

“Natalie might say no,” Audrey says wisely. “That’s why she’s stressed. Look what happened with Alice and Gabe from my class.”

“Why are these eight-year-olds dating?”

“They’re not. They’re attracted to each other, but Gabe didn’t want to ruin the friendship,” Audrey explains. “That’s the

whole point.”

“Okay!” I exhale, turning back around to glare out the windshield. “Why is this light taking five thousand years?”

“See? She’s nervous.” Audrey smiles at Mom in the rearview.

“Maybe because I literally don’t know what I’m walking into!” The light changes at last, but my breath still feels like it’s

stuck.

Mom turns onto Natalie’s street, pulling to a stop near the curb. Then she turns to face me, smiling gently. “You’re walking

into your best friend’s house,” she says, “and it’s going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that! Friendships aren’t always fine.” I stare at my knees. Look at Walter and Hayden. Look at Simon and Garfunkel!”

“Oh, you know, I just read something about those two!” Mom taps her chin. “You won’t believe this. Apparently, they finally—”

“Cool—okay, I’m out!” I leap from the car so fast I almost collide with the twins’ neighbor’s collie. I scratch his head.

“Oop—hi, Cooper.”

Cooper gives me an urgent lick on the wrist.

My throat’s thick with nerves. Nat’s front door is right there . Mom’s still parked, right behind me. I know she won’t leave until I’m inside—which chokes me up even more, for some reason. This mix of sameness and newness.

I spin on my heels, rapping the passenger window. Mom opens it promptly, leaning closer. “What’s up?”

“Thanks, okay?” I blush. “For bringing me. And—yeah.”

“My pleasure,” Mom says, with finger guns worthy of Walter himself. “Now get in there and earn me five bucks.”