I’M ON THE COUCH AVOIDING homework when my dad comes home from work on Thursday. No one else is here, so I’ve spread out on the sofa with a bag of stale tortilla chips. There’s a rerun of Chopped playing on TV, but I’ve been more focused on texting Lin about potentially going to the homecoming dance as a group.

“Feel like a burrito from Lucky’s?” he asks.

We haven’t had a chance to talk after I’d overheard him and Nonnie’s conversation the other night. I don’t want to admit to eavesdropping, but it did make me think of my list again. And the truth is, deep down, I do want to forgive him. It’s the only way to go back to the way things were.

I slip my feet back into my flats. “Yes, are you kidding?”

We haven’t been to Lucky’s in forever. It’s a customizable burrito joint twenty minutes away, but it’s totally worth it because they have seven different types of salsa and the best carne asada I’ve ever tasted. Grams hated Lucky’s burritos. She always said they got too soggy too fast and gave her heartburn. But Thursday nights, when she went to the Y to play bridge with her friends, my dad and I would make a special trip together.

He drives. Talk radio is set on low, and it suddenly occurs to me that I’ve trapped myself in a car with my dad for a significant amount of time. It doesn’t feel as awkward as the ride home from the airport, but I still can’t think of a single thing to say.

After a few moments, he turns to me. “Do you have a home or away game tomorrow?”

“Away.”

I feel slightly guilty about not extending him an invitation to come see me perform with the Wavettes, but he and Grams never came to away games anyway. The drives were always too long, and she liked to be in bed by nine.

“Do you need money for dinner?”

I shake my head, but another pang of guilt stabs through me. He’s being so supportive. It would be easier if he were uninterested. At least then I wouldn’t feel so bad.

We drive the next few miles in silence. I watch acres of green pastures and roaming cattle fly past my line of vision as the sun dips below rich green treetops. When I was younger, I remember asking Grams why she lived here her whole life. She looked confused, like I’d just asked why there weren’t eight days in a week.

But then she’d said, “Because there ain’t nowhere better than this.”

“I miss her,” I hear myself say. My heart aches in the familiar patterns of loneliness. “I think about her every day.”

My dad is quiet for a moment. I know he understands who I’m talking about. When he glances over at me, there’s a sad smile on his face. “I do, too. To tell you the truth, I still struggle with missing her.”

My hands twist together in my lap. I decide to come clean. “I know. I heard you and Nonnie talking the other day.”

“Did you?”

I nod. “I want to trust you again… I just don’t want things to be like last time.”

He turns off the radio. “I won’t lie to you, Goose. It isn’t easy, but I’ve been in touch with Michael.”

Michael. His AA sponsor. At first, I blamed Michael for my dad’s decision to go to Sober Living. He was supposed to be his mentor. Why couldn’t he help him?

But now I think I understand the difference in his struggle back then and his struggle now. This time, he’d made the decision to stay sober. I just needed to trust he’d follow through.

“Michael recommended seeing a counselor, and I want you to know I’ve taken his advice.”

“Oh.” This isn’t what I expected him to say.

“I want to make sure I’m not going to slip again,” he explains. “I don’t want you worryin’ about me. It was never fair to put you through everything I did.”

I swallow, thinking back to all the nights he spent closed off in his bedroom. All the nights my sadness ate through me like acid.

“It wasn’t,” I agree. “I was a bit skeptical about coming home, actually.”

I expect this confession will make him mad, but it doesn’t.

“You know, I can’t say I blame you. Although I sure am glad you did. Your Grams—well, she was there for us. But you were there for me, too. And I let you down.”

I don’t say anything. We both know it’s true.

“Grams was always so good to us. If she were still here, she’d—”

“—have a few choice words for you.”

He laughs. “Yes, that’s true.” He glances over at me. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want.”

I know it makes him sad, but he’s trying. Maybe I can try a little harder, too.

My lips curve into a smile. “Are you sure we don’t have to taco ’bout it?”

He grins. “We can guac about it another time.”

I snort. “That was awful. It doesn’t even make sense.”

But he’s still smiling, the gesture showcasing the tiny wrinkles around his eyes. I know he’s still struggling, but we’re different now. Somehow I know we won’t ever move back in time to when I’d keep his secrets when he drank far too much.

Trust. That’s what I want most with my dad. There aren’t any excuses for his addiction, but I try and think of Grams’s loss from his perspective. Not only had he lost his mother, but he also lost the only other person who helped raise me. He was truly on his own.

Only, he wasn’t. He had me. Has me.

I think of the others—Saylor and Nonnie and Peach. I remember what I overheard the other night, how Nonnie was helping my dad. I know he’s making an effort to turn things around, so shouldn’t I accept that they’re trying to do the same?

I picture my twelve-steps list sitting on the corner of my desk. I still want them gone, but I can’t deny that they encourage and support each other. And aren’t those the kind of people I should want my dad to be around?

I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite. Because I know the answer, but it’s not the one I want.

Colton forgot to mention that his band is playing around the same time the football game ends on Friday, but because we suffer an embarrassingly big loss, Raegan, Lin, and I are able to book it out of there as soon as it ends. Luckily the venue is a few miles from the stadium, so once we ditch our uniforms for more appropriate going-out attire (a button-down skirt and black halter top, in my case) we hit the road.

My dad said I could go as long as I’m back by midnight, which is fair. After our journey to Lucky’s last night, it feels like we’ve fallen back into familiar territory.

“I can’t stay long,” Raegan says, tapping her bright-red fingernails on her steering wheel. “I have so much work to do for Spirit Week.”

“That’s fine,” I say as Lin texts someone from the backseat. They’re coming with me because this is a big deal for Colton, but I’m also secretly pleased to get to hang with them outside of school.

Whitney and Jay ditched out and decided to go see a movie instead. I hate that it bothers me more than it should.

The venue is a divey little place called the Pit that’s squished between a liquor store and a twenty-four-hour laundromat in downtown Keegris—a bigger city close to Cedarville. They’re already playing by the time we walk inside. It’s very dark, lit only by the red-and-blue lighting coming from the exceptionally small stage, where the drum kit takes up most of the space on the checkered floor. There’s a humid smell of too many bodies packed into one place mixed with cigarette smoke, but when I spot Colton stage left with his guitar, he grins like he’s headlining Madison Square Garden.

And, honestly, his band isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever heard.

They’re in no way the best, but they manage to stay somewhat on beat. The singer has a pretty decent range, too.

“Wow. It’s loud,” Raegan says as we shove our way forward.

Lin snorts. “What’d you expect, a symphony?”

Lin and I bob our heads to the rhythmic chugging and wailing of the guitars. Raegan eventually gives in and attempts to enjoy it. When they announce the last song, we have a contest to see who can headbang the longest. Surprisingly, Raegan wins.

After Colton churns out the last note, the singer grabs his mic and proclaims, “We are A Feast of Blood and Gore—good night!”

Lin raises an eyebrow. “What a name.”

“Truly,” I agree.

“He was good, right?” Raegan says, then looks around. “I’m going to grab some water.”

“I’ll go with you,” I say.

“Bathroom,” Lin says, then gestures in the opposite direction. “I’ll catch up.”

We part ways, then head to the tiny beverage station and order our waters. As we wait, I turn to Raegan.

“Hey, um, don’t take this the wrong way,” I begin, using this as my opportunity to be a better friend. She’s been so busy with schoolwork and presidential projects leading up to homecoming that I haven’t really had a chance to talk to her. “But are you okay? I’ve noticed you’ve taken on a lot this year.”

Raegan smiles, but I can see the tiredness in her eyes. “I know I have. It’s just—” She pauses for a moment. “Did you know my mom never went to college?”

“She didn’t?”

“No, and neither did my grandma. Just my dad. So I’ll be the first female in my family to go. And it’s not that I’m worried that I’ll get in, because duh. I’m bound to get in somewhere.”

I smile at her confidence. “Obviously.”

“The thing is, I want to go to a good school and I want to get a scholarship, but… I also want to be around to help my mom with the baby. I’m finally going to have a sibling, but after next year I’ll be gone.” She meets my eyes. “So, yeah. I guess I’m worried they’ll both need me.”

A girl with bright-pink hair hands us our waters. I quickly thank her, then turn back to Raegan. “She’ll be fine. They both will.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They have your dad. And it’s not like you’ll never visit. Plus, this baby is going to have, like, the best big sister role model on the planet.” She laughs. “But you have to live your life, too.”

As soon as I say it, I remember the conversation I had with Alex. How I was worried about leaving my own dad when I go off to college. Why is it easy to give someone else this advice when I’m worried about the exact same thing?

“Look who I found!” Lin announces as she walks over to us, Colton right behind her.

“I’m so stoked you made it.” His smile is bright enough to light an entire city.

Raegan playfully nudges his elbow with hers. “You were great, seriously.”

“Remember us when you’re famous,” I add.

Colton blushes, but before he can get another word in, two girls rush up beside him. One has dirty blond hair and is wearing a leather jacket with a delicate silver quill necklace, and the other has straight black hair that matches her black skater dress and Converse high-tops.

“Way to kill it tonight,” the blond girl says.

Colton modestly shrugs, then turns to us. “This is Elsie and Devon. They go to East Meadow High. And this is Kira, Raegan, and Lin.”

“My brother’s the singer,” the black-haired girl—Devon—explains. “You know, the one with awful taste in band names.”

“Very descriptive,” I say.

“A little too descriptive,” Elsie replies. “We were talking about going to Waffle House. Y’all feel like joining?”

“We actually have to get going. Curfew.” I glance at Colton. “Maybe next time?”

He grins. “Yeah, that’d be rad.”

We say good-bye, then find our way to Raegan’s car. She drops Lin off first, then swings by my house. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to worry so much, that things will be fine. But how can I promise her these things if I don’t know for sure?

“You know, this was fun,” Raegan says. “We should do it more often.”

My mood lifts. “Definitely.”

As I’m getting out of her car, I hear, “Kira?”

I turn.

“Remember to wear your spirit color on Monday.”

I give her a thumbs-up. As I walk inside, my cell chimes with a text.

JAY: how was the show

Jay. Jay is texting me. It’s a little surprising, considering he’s with Whitney. I debate on texting back right away, but ultimately I end up crafting a reply.

ME: should’ve come to see for yourself! but they were great.

JAY: yeah, really should’ve. the movie blew.

JAY: where you at? meet at Sonic?

I pause, uncertain if I want to hang out with Whitney and Jay right now. It’d be one thing if Whitney was the one reaching out since things are still off between us, but on the other hand, the two of them are 3 and 6 on my twelve-steps list. At this point, I can’t afford to say no if I really want to make progress.

ME: not too far. see you in a few.

Since it’s 11:30, I send another quick text to my dad, assuring him I’ll be home within the hour. But when I drive up to Sonic, I spot only Jay sitting on a red plastic picnic table. Hesitant, I pull my car into an empty space, then get out to meet him.

“Where’s Whit?” I ask as I walk up.

“Hello to you, too,” he jokes, slurping on his drink. “Took her home after the movies. Said she had a headache.”

“Oh,” I reply, suddenly feeling weird. I don’t want Whitney to think I’m hanging out with Jay behind her back and get mad. I mean, I did assume she’d be here. It’s not like I can be at fault for that, can I?

His finger hovers over the order button on the menu board. “Want anything?”

On the other hand, Jay asked me to come here specifically because he knew we’d have one-on-one time. Since I’m trying to reconnect with him, I should at least see where it goes.

Right?

I sit down next to him. “Fries?”

As Jay places the order, a few freshmen at another picnic table catch my attention. They’re wearing Cedarville colors, and one of the guys hooks an arm casually around a girl wearing a festive red ribbon in her hair. He whispers something to her, and she bursts out laughing.

It reminds me of my freshman year with Jay. The unexpected wave of nostalgia hits me hard and fast.

“So,” he says. “Colton’s on the road to fame and glory?”

“Seems promising.” I spare a quick glance at him. He’s wearing a simple white shirt and basketball shorts, and his hair looks slightly neater than the day before. “Is that a blue raspberry slush?”

He shakes his cup. “Nope, got tired of those. It’s a chocolate shake.”

“Oh.”

It’s odd, but the slight change of his drink option feels like a betrayal. I tell myself it’s all in my head. Jay’s welcome to order whatever he wants.

But still.

The fries are delivered, and I set the carton between us so we can share. We eat in silence for a few moments. When the breeze shifts, I catch a faint scent of the body spray he wore when we dated. Even though he’s changed so much since I left, I can’t help replaying the good moments over in my head. Our kisses in dark theaters. The thinking of you texts.

Jay shakes his empty milkshake cup, gesturing to a garbage can sitting a few feet away. “Think I can make this into the trash?”

“You’re on the basketball team. I hope you can make it.”

He grins. “Rude.”

“How is that rude? That’s a fact.”

Jay aims, then glances over at me. “How about a little support?”

“Does your ego need it? Is that you, Breck?”

“Oh, fuck off.” He flings the cup perfectly into the bin with a satisfying thud. “Nothing but net.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Two points.”

“That’s clearly three.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.”

He scoots closer to me, an easy smile spreading across his lips. Then his hand is on my bare knee, and my heart jumps in my throat.

Jay’s eyes lock with mine. “You look nice tonight.”

I want to tell myself it’s an innocent compliment, but when his hand ever so slowly creeps higher up my thigh, I know it’s not.

My smile disappears as I immediately shift both of my legs away from him. Because even though there are spurts of moments where being with Jay feels so natural, he’s with Whitney. Whitney, who is part of the reason I agreed to come here in the first place. And what does this say about Jay, who’s clearly trying to make a move on me while he’s with Whitney?

“No.” There’s firmness in my tone. “I don’t think—”

Next to the carton of fries, Jay’s phone chimes with a text. Because I’m both nosy and curious, I glance down, which is how my eyes read: hey, if you’re coming, bring beer. From Jennifer. The same Jennifer that was at Breck’s party, I’m sure.

Jay doesn’t waste time texting back. “Winsor Lake,” he explains, obviously aware I read it. “Got a fake ID last weekend. They want me to come party. And bring more booze.”

“A true hero,” I say, but even I hear the joke fall flat.

“Something like that,” he mumbles.

A pang of annoyance stabs me in the chest. Why? Why have I been pining after someone who’s clearly chosen to hang out with me, his ex-girlfriend, behind his actual girlfriend’s back? Someone who he’d then ditch out to pick up beer for a party? Maybe that’s who Jay has become. The one who’s always searching for the next best thing.

“I should go, anyway.” I can’t shake away the weirdness that’s been slowly encroaching on me. “Thanks for the fries.”

“Oh—uh, no problem.” I feel him watching me as I hop off the table. “Um, hey?”

I turn back to him, wondering if he’s going to say he’d rather stay here with me, that spending time together sounds way better than some party at the lake. Because that’s the Jay I know. The guy who’d pick me over boozing it up in the woods.

Instead, he tosses me my car keys. “Can’t really go anywhere without those, right?”

“Right.” I force my lips into a tight smile. “Have a good one.”

An uneasiness sits in the center of my chest as I walk away. I can’t quite explain it. It’s not until I brush my teeth and slide into bed that I’m able to pinpoint my feelings a little more clearly: Maybe it’s impossible to reconnect with someone who’s not who they used to be.