~ Chapter 3: Andrew ~

"Right, because it would kill you to make time for me, wouldn't it?"

I'd just walked in, and I squeezed my eyes shut. It was never a boring day in the Spencer household.

Today's fight was probably my mom's half-assed attempt to pretend that she cared that they lived two completely separate lives that just happened to occasionally merge when one of them needed the other. Fights like this had been happening since I was little. A couple of times a year, one of them would pick a fight so they had something to complain to their rich friends about before they inevitably bragged to their rich friends about how they'd made up. It was their way of appearing like the picture-perfect couple they'd always presented themselves as. Because nothing screamed loving relationship like trust issues and fighting.

My parents didn't hate each other most of the time. They were so aware of how they looked together and how they were the power couple. My mom knew how to schmooze my dad's rich coworkers. She could laugh about data analysis or spew out facts about mortgage refinancing or collateral like she was the one with the advanced degree. My dad knew exactly how to be just charming enough at my mom's work events as she pushed her landscaping business and landed clients. They worked, and they'd chosen that over true love.

I thought my parents loved each other in their own way. They definitely loved the life they got to live together. Every move on their part had been strategic. Including me.

Maybe I wasn't giving them enough credit. When I was little, I thought they were a fairy tale. Then I grew up and I realized they were just two people that chose each other. Then I grew up a little more and started wondering whether they chose each other for the right reasons. It seemed like they'd chosen each other out of convenience. Or maybe part of me wanted their marriage to be as transactional as I was in their lives. It made that a little easier to stomach - at least it wasn't just me.

I was their poster child. I got the grades, was a star on the basketball team, let them flaunt me around at work socials… until November when I took off with Mia. I'd gotten back two weeks ago and, other than an awkwardly silent drive to school the very last day where my dad spoke exactly twelve words to me ("Andrew, you are finishing the school year the only way you can"), they had yet to acknowledge me. I knew that shit had to hit the metaphorical fan eventually. It was inevitable.

I kept waiting for it. Every day, I waited for the moment that my dad would unleash his fury or my mom would turn her disappointed-mom-eyes towards me. Their silence was almost worse than a punishment. It was like I'd ceased to exist to them.

I'd just gotten back from spending time with Mia… though, saying that I spent time with her seemed like a stretch. I watched her play with Kyle. She was obsessed with that kid. Everything he did seemed to fascinate her. The giggles he let out when she tickled him, how much he rolled, how wide his eyes got when he looked around. She could hold him for hours and make silly faces at him (and she had). She said it was just so her dad and Veronica could pack, but I wasn't sure I believed that.

We hadn't talked about what was going to happen in two weeks. Most of her house was in boxes, but every time I brought up her move, she hastily changed the subject. I didn't want to push her, but I wanted to know if we were going to be doing the long-distance thing or if she was going to be here our senior year.

I was trying to be patient with her. I knew she'd had a whirlwind of a week between seeing her mom and being back with her dad. That wasn't to mention her mad attempt to catch up on the five months of Kyle that she missed. I didn't think she was over the fact that he cried the first time she held him because he was scared. He got over that quickly, but she still remembered.

My intention had been to go to my room and wait for my parents to go to bed so I could heat up some dinner, but my dad's booming, "Andrew" had me stopping in my tracks.

When my dad used that tone, I couldn't ignore him, so I reluctantly went to the kitchen where my parents were squaring off with one another.

I leaned back against the counter. I desperately wanted to cross my arms and look defensive, but I knew that would only deepen my dad's scowl. "Yes?" I asked.

"We found you a job."

"You… what?" I asked uncertainly.

"We found you a job." He took a sip of his drink and looked at me like he thought I was slow. It didn't help clarify what he was talking about at all. "For the summer."

"Why?"

"You seemed to think you were responsible enough to take off across the country for a year, so now you get to be responsible enough to support yourself this summer," he told me.

I closed my eyes. I'd known something was coming, but I hadn't expected it to be this. I didn't try to argue with him. "Where?"

"At a construction company. Your mother connected with one of the managers a few months ago during a meeting for a project they were both contracted for. She reached out to him recently and he said they had a position available."

"Construction?" I raised my eyebrow.

"You're going to learn the value of a hard day's work. You start tomorrow morning. 7 am sharp."

I had to bite my lip because it wasn't like my dad had ever had to roll up his sleeves and do manual labor… maybe metaphorically as he fought to rise through the ranks at work. I knew what he'd done was admirable. He'd worked hard his entire life to get where he was. When he'd been passed up for promotions by less qualified people when I was younger, instead of fueling his anger and resentment for the world he lived in, it only drove him to work harder and prove that he could do it despite the obstacles in his way. So, he definitely knew how to work hard; I wasn't trying to say he didn't, but he'd never had to do work like this.

My mom, on the other hand, did. She'd started off working for a landscaping company laying sod, planting seeds, and the like while she paid her way through college to get her degree in Landscape Architecture (I thought she secretly got pleasure out of people not knowing that degree existed). Now, she owned her own business and specifically designed and supervised her creations. I wished they'd decided that I had to work with her for the summer. It seemed like it would be way more enjoyable.

I tried to push down the bitter feelings that she probably didn't want me around her all summer. I managed a curt nod before I started to leave.

"We're not finished," my mom said sharply. "You will be meeting with a young man twice a week. Laura O'Mara, you remember her, right? She took over that mentorship program a few years back; the one that pairs up students from at-risk areas in Atlanta."

I knew where this was going. Most of us kids that got dragged to these events went reluctantly. Connor, Laura's kid, seemed to love them. Mia and I used to laugh because he was essentially a miniature version of his dad. We could tell how much he wanted to seem older and mature. When his mom took over, he started working there as well and it was kind of hard to find an excuse to leave a conversation when you never have a chance to get a word in. "Creekwood isn't exactly at risk," I pointed out.

"Some areas are, and she's making an exception for you. We told her you needed to diversify your experience as you're getting ready to apply to colleges," my dad said dryly. He had that look on his face like he thought I was being childish.

"Great. Anything else?"

"Yes. You're taking a summer class."

I scoffed. "You've gotta be kidding me. This is ridiculous."

"Grow up, Andrew. You want to treat us like we're the bad guys, but you have no idea what the real world is like for someone like you. We are doing these things because you've made no attempt to do them yourself. We're not going to stand by while you throw your life away."

I wanted to shout that it was my life to throw away, but my dad was using a tone that always rendered me mute. I only nodded before I escaped to my room. As soon as I closed the door behind me, I called Mia.

I hastily filled her in on what had happened. "Can you believe that?" I asked once I finished.

I heard Kyle in the background as he let out a tiny giggle. "Yeah, was that so funny?" Mia cooed. "Sorry. Yeah, it's frustrating, but are they wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you've never really had to work for anything. Maybe this will be good for you," she told me.

"I work," I protested.

She was quiet for a long time. "Of course you have," she agreed. "But you've never had to work hard." I could picture the way she would duck her head when she slowed down her words like that. It was almost her defense mechanism. It was easier to speak her truth when she didn't have to immediately see how people reacted to it. "As much as you have your problems with your parents and, believe me, I know how awful they can be, they still love you. They want you to have the same opportunities they had and they worked really hard to build this life for you. Your grades and basketball, you've had to work for them, but you haven't had to work harder than anyone else, you know? Everything's just happened for you."

I stared at my phone, unable to comprehend that she'd defended my parents. "That's rich coming from you. You haven't exactly had to lift a finger your whole life either," I snapped. I instantly felt bad about it because I knew that wasn't true. She'd dedicated so much time to her art; truthfully, more time than I'd ever put into anything. She'd worked to put herself back together after her mom walked away from her. She was working so hard right now to mend her relationship with both of her parents.

To Mia's credit, she didn't snap back. I could hear her audible breath. She must've taken that moment to do something with Kyle because I heard another one of his infectious giggles. It just made me angrier. I knew that she was making up for lost time, but I felt like I took a backseat to him these days. I was never good enough. Not good enough for my parents' expectations, not good enough for Mia's attention. I didn't want her to choose me over her family, but I wanted her to choose me sometimes.

"You're right. I'm luckier than most," she said. "I've never had to work. The work I've done, I've chosen to do." Her words were pointed and made me feel about two inches tall. "I don't want to fight with you. I just think you're lucky that you took off without asking your parents' permission and this is your only punishment. Not everyone would be that lucky."

"You took off too," I pointed out.

"Yeah. I did. And because of it, I missed five months of Kyle's life. I don't know if my dad's ever going to forgive me. It wasn't some long vacation for me. Every day we were gone was hard."

"You don't think it was hard for me?"

"It didn't seem like it was. You missed half a year of school and an entire basketball season. Those things are supposed to matter to you, and you didn't seem to care at all."

"Of course, I cared! I just thought you were more important!"

"I shouldn't be more important than that stuff," Mia argued. "I shouldn't be the most important person in your life. What happens when I move to Stanford?"

My heart sunk. "When?" I asked.

"If," she hastily corrected. "If I move to Stanford."

"Are you thinking about that?"

"I haven't been given another option."

"You could stay with me," I told her. "You know that's an option."

"No, it's not. I need to go back to something normal after how weird the last six months were. Living with you… would not be normal."

"Wouldn't it be better than moving thousands of miles away from me?" When she didn't answer, I hung up because I knew I would say something I regretted if I stayed on. For six months, I felt like our relationship had flourished. It had just been the two of us against the world. Sure, it had caused our fair share of arguments, but I thought we'd been stronger because of it. Since we'd gotten back, it felt like all that growth had somehow weakened our relationship. I didn't understand it, but it terrified and frustrated me.

I think part of me had forgotten how busy Mia always was. We'd only been dating a little while before we took off and, when everything was so new, I hadn't thought anything of it. She wanted to make time for me then, so why did it feel like she didn't want to do that anymore?

It took me about half a second after I plopped down on my bed to realize that I was too restless to be still. I ended up in my backyard shooting hoops. It was the best I could think of. We didn't exactly live on the mean streets of Atlanta (or anywhere near those areas), but my mom would still freak out if she knew I was walking around at night.

My neighbor poked his head over the fence. Francis was fourteen and was this skinny kid with glasses that didn't quite fit his face. He and his parents had been living with his grandparents for a couple of years ever since a house fire claimed his childhood home. When he'd first moved here, I hadn't given him the time of day because he was dorky, talked too much, looked like someone that spent all his time doing homework for fun, was almost four years younger than me… essentially, any excuse I could make, I made. The limited conversation we'd exchanged had been reluctant on my end. He spun a tale of how his dad literally ran back into their burning and crumbling house to get him out of his bedroom when the window wouldn't open, expressed a longing for friends his age in a brand new state, explained the hardened grandparents that looked like saints for taking them in but held it over their heads every day since they moved in.

They'd disowned Francis' dad when he went away to college and pursued his passion in Communications instead of the business or accounting degree that they'd wanted him to get. When Francis first told me, it was hard to believe because I couldn't imagine anyone cutting their kid off for pursuing his dreams. Then I'd overheard an argument between his grandma and his dad. They hadn't been overly loud; I'd only heard because I'd been outside and it had been a really quiet night. When Francis said his dad essentially had to beg them to let them stay with them, I hadn't been prepared for that to be true or for the groveling to be an ongoing process. I never told Francis about what I'd heard that night, but I made a point of taking him under my wing after that.

I didn't know exactly where Francis used to live, but I knew that his parents never could have afforded to live here and the rent his grandparents charged them was more than their old mortgage. It left them struggling more than they had before.

"Thought I heard you," he said.

"Down for some hoops?" I asked.

He was truly dreadful at basketball, but he seemed to enjoy it despite that. I thought it had more to do with the fact that I was always willing to play with him. I didn't think he had many friends at the middle school. If he did, he never talked about them and I never saw them come over.

He went around to the gate that would let him into my backyard. "I think I'm getting better," he said gleefully as I passed him the ball.

"Oh, yeah? Let's see what you got."

He dribbled a little to warm up before he shot the ball. He was getting better with his aim. He at least hit the basket and, from where he was shooting from, that was a step in the right direction.

I whistled. "Pretty close." His smile got bigger. "So, what brings you out here?" This late at night, there was always a reason.

He shrugged. "The usual," he said evasively.

"What are they fighting about today?"

He ducked his head. "My dad got laid off, so they can't afford rent. My grandma keeps telling my dad he's lazy and can't support us." He shuddered. The poor kid. Before he moved in, his grandparents had a reputation for being mean and strict. If a blade of grass so much as blew over to their side, my parents heard about it. Then, Francis and his parents moved in and everyone was impressed by their selflessness. If only they knew. It wasn't really selfless if it came with as many strings as their gesture did. "We were talking about going on a trip this summer before he got laid off." He looked wistful. "I hate being stuck here."

My heart sunk. "Maybe they'll figure something out," I said with optimism I didn't feel. "And if not, you've got high school to look forward to next year, right? Bet you could spend all summer getting ready for that."

"Yeah, I guess." He shot again and missed the basket completely. He looked so glum; I made a mental note to check in on him a little more often and make sure he was okay.

We spent over an hour shooting around the ball. He never dropped his excitement or positivity, no matter how many baskets he missed.

When I got back to my room, long after my parents went to sleep and after a deep silence permeated my house, I felt better. I still thought it was ridiculous, but I would show them. I would show them I didn't need them to teach me how to work hard. Despite what everyone thought, I'd worked hard to get where I was.

Of course, when my alarm went off early the next morning, all I wanted to do was let everyone be right. I wanted to go right back to sleep. I woke up earlier than this for before-school basketball practice but months out of that routine had apparently stripped me of my ability to wake up in the morning. I forced myself out of bed. I wasn't going to be wrong on my very first day.

I should have just stayed in bed. I got to the looming building right at 7. Part of me had honestly been expecting to pull up to a construction site, but it looked more like an office building. The suite I was looking for was on the fourth floor and the man that greeted me looked as unhappy as I felt to be out of bed this early. He was in a suit which threw me off. I hadn't dressed to impress because I'd assumed that my "construction gig" would involve physical labor.

It felt like an immediate strike against me. Especially when I found out I'd have primarily administrative responsibilities.

My second strike was undoubtedly the sound of indignation that escaped me when I found out I would only be getting a thirty-minute lunch each day AND I had to work on Saturdays. I briefly wondered if I'd simply be off the hook if I got fired, but I didn't want to find out.

Luckily for me, it was going to be a short first day of work. I wished my parents had told me that today was just a paperwork day. I filled out a few forms - an agreement to work, one so they could pay me, and one for my emergency contact. Once I finished that, I was an official employee.

My boss, who didn't seem to like me more now that I'd actually been hired, gave me a brief tour of the office which mainly consisted of "bathrooms are over there" before he gave me a binder that weighed about fifty pounds and had more papers than it was equipped to hold.

After warning me that it needed to be read by tomorrow, he let me go. The whole process had taken less than three hours.

Because I had the time, I decided to take a nap before I needed to meet with my mentee. It somehow turned into a four-hour nap. I still wasn't sure how I'd slept so long, but I woke up to my mom calling me to ask me why my mentee and his mother were still waiting for me to show up.

Shit! I got dressed as quickly as possible and made it to the park we'd agreed to meet at five minutes later. It turned out that my at-risk mentee was from a poorer area in Creekwood. I guessed that's what constituted as at-risk to Laura. His name was Greyden Smith, but he went by Denny. His sister was adamant about that; she said their dad's name was Greyden and neither of them needed that reminder. From what my mom had texted me about kids that didn't have the same opportunities as me, I'd been expecting a Black kid and not a white-as-they-come kid. He was going into the eighth grade which was surprising because he looked like he was in elementary school. He was just so small.

He was there with his twenty-year-old sister (not his mother, so my mom was wrong), Holly, who gave me a startling and way-too-detailed-for-someone-she-just-met explanation of their lives together. She was his legal guardian because their mom was dead and dad was in jail. She mostly wanted him to have someone to talk to because he wasn't talking to her or his teachers and he hadn't made any friends since they moved here. She hoped if I could build trust between us, I might be able to get him out of his shell or, bare minimum, get him out of their apartment twice a week.

When she left, he made it clear that he wasn't talking to me either. I knew he could hear me because he listened intently with his whole body. So, why the silence? He didn't argue when I suggested a walk and I kind of felt like I was having a conversation with myself. This was going to be horrible.

I didn't try to call Mia that night. I was in a crummy mood and I didn't want to fight with her which felt inevitable if we tried to talk right now. I also didn't even try to log in to my class. My dad had emailed me the information for it - because that's where we were at - and I'd read enough to know it was entirely online and self-paced. I didn't have it in me to half-ass my way through my first assignment.

I had to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn to work with someone that seemed to hate me for no reason, so I had a great day ahead of me. As I fell back into my bed, I hoped that my summer couldn't possibly get worse.

I was immediately off to a bad start when I got to work because, not only had I not so much as looked at the binder I'd been given yesterday, it was sitting untouched on my desk at home. My boss, who I was pretty sure never actually introduced himself to me, spent about fifteen minutes going off about responsibility or some shit like that before he put me to work. It was mind-numbingly dull work. Alphabetizing the cards that we filled out our timesheets on. Restocking supplies. Filing paperwork. Scanning older paperwork so they could start to digitize their files.

My lunch break was a brief reprieve from the monotony of my day. I wondered if Mia and I would be able to coordinate so I could at least spend my lunch with her. Though, sitting outside on one of the picnic tables a little bit away from the rowdy conversation of the full-time employees wasn't the worst. It was warm and sunny.

My afternoon was more of the same. My boss finally introduced himself as Mr. Tingley (oh, the nicknames I immediately thought of) and watched me with angry eyes at all times. I swear, he was waiting for me to mess up.

If he was waiting for it, I gave him what he wanted multiple times as I tried to figure out the complicated system they used for everything with minimal guidance. Every time I asked for help he made a passive-aggressive comment about that damn binder. I hated him.

At exactly 3 pm, I walked out of that office, relieved for my first day to be behind me. I almost called Mia when I climbed into my car and again when I started driving home. I stopped myself both times.

It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to her because I did, but I didn't want to fight with her anymore. I didn't want her to tell me that I was entitled just because I hated my job.

I'd resigned myself to a long afternoon which was why I was so surprised when I got home and found Mia sitting on the stairs in front of my house. I'd driven right past her car parked by the curb without so much as recognizing it for what it was. She stood up when I got out of my car.

"Hey," she said softly.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I wanted to see how your first two days of work went." I raised my eyebrows at her because we both knew perfectly well that a phone call would have been more than sufficient if that's what she wanted. "Do you want to go for a walk?"

"Sure."

Without talking about it, we walked to the sculpture of the baby bear that sat across from the elementary school near my house. My dad had said the space was supposed to become a park, but they decided to build the park somewhere else after the cub was created, so now it was just a random sculpture on the side of the road.

So much had happened between us here. We'd sought refuge here when we were preteens eager to escape the stuffy dinners and parties we'd been forced to attend; we kissed each other for the first time while we were hiding behind the bear; I'd slowly but surely fallen in love with her during the moments we shared here. This was our spot.

When we were little, climbing to the top of the massive cub was a feat that required all of our creativity. I distinctly remembered one time that Mia used me as a step stool to get to the top. Long gone were those days. We probably weren't supposed to climb the cub, but the way it ducked its head left the perfect spot for two people to sit right on the arch of its back. It was still the perfect size for us.

We sat so our backs were pressed against each other and I squeezed my eyes shut, allowing myself to bask in the warmth of the sun.

"I'm sorry," she said after a long time had passed. "I shouldn't have said what I did. I just… I'm stressed. I don't know whether I should move or stay. If I stay here, I'm leaving my dad and Veronica and Kyle. If I go, I'm leaving my mom and Lake and… you. It feels like, no matter what I choose, I'm losing. I shouldn't have taken that out on you."

Any residual anger I'd reserved for Mia immediately disappeared. Here I was nursing wounded feelings while she was grappling with the biggest decision she'd ever have to make. If I'd been a better boyfriend instead of a jealous mess, I'd probably have realized that there was a reason she'd been so obsessed with Kyle other than trying to make up for how much time she'd missed; she was proactively making up for the time she wasn't sure she'd get with him. If she stayed, she was going to miss so much. I desperately wanted her to stay, but I understood why it was so complicated.

I knew exactly what I was supposed to say. I was supposed to tell her that I would be okay regardless of what she chose and that she needed to do what was best for her. I was supposed to tell her that we didn't expect her to choose us over her family. I was supposed to say I supported her decision no matter what it was. I knew those were the right words, but I couldn't force them past my lips. Instead, I settled for an, "it's okay. I know this isn't easy."

"I don't know what to do."

"You don't need to know yet," I assured her. "You still have a few weeks." She had just over two, and we both knew it. Her dad was having a house built near Stanford and they were staying somewhere that the university set up for them until that was done, so they'd been in no rush to get there. They had to be there before July 1st, so no rush or not, their deadline was looming.

Her dad had been back and forth from there since he accepted the job to get everything in order and to do some preliminary work for his new position. He was leaving next Tuesday and wouldn't be coming back. Veronica and Kyle would be flying out to join him a week later, possibly with Mia.

"Yeah. Tell me about work. How's it been going?"

I'd feel guilty about it later, but I lied to her. I didn't want to add to her plate by telling her how much I hated that dumb job and how bad my mentorship was and how stupid my class probably was. While I wanted to complain, I didn't think that was what she needed from me.

She did agree to daily lunch dates which almost made it worth it to go back to work. Thirty minutes every day, she and I would have completely uninterrupted time together. It made sharing her after work almost worth it.

During our first lunch, I managed to convince her to go with me to my dad's work dinner that I was pretty sure was going to be unbearable without her. She didn't want to go, but she sucked it up for me.

Once Saturday rolled around, I thanked my lucky stars that I had a short work week. Six days with this ass next week were going to be rough. Not to mention two more silent sessions with Denny. We'd spent nearly two hours at the library on Thursday and I still hadn't gotten a word out of him.

On Saturday, Mia sent me a vague text telling me that she was going to be late, and I'd put off taking my break until she texted me that she was here.

When I got outside, she was waiting with a kiss and a bag of Chinese food. "Thought you deserved something special in honor of your first week," she told me.

I didn't point out that it had only been part of a week. "Is everything okay?" I asked as she started to pull the little cartons out of the bag.

"Yeah. I just had to help Pilar this morning."

She didn't elaborate, so I pressed, "why?"

"Victor called me this morning. Pilar broke her ankle last night."

"Okay," I said slowly. "That kinda sounds like it sucks, but why you?"

"Other than Lake, I'm the only girl that Victor spends time with. I guess he thought Pilar would be more comfortable with me," she explained.

I felt a surge of jealousy. I knew that Victor was gay and Mia didn't care for him that way anymore, but I still knew that he was the first guy she ever fell in love with. That was never going to change.

"It was nice of you to help out," I told her as I tried very hard to fend off those feelings of jealousy. "How's she feeling?"

Mia frowned. "Embarrassed. They have a follow-up today so she can get her cast. Hopefully, that will help. That reminds me. I told Victor I'd pick up trash bags before I went back tonight. He doesn't have any of the big ones we need."

"You're going back?" I asked.

"Well, yeah. Someone has to help her get dressed and take a shower and stuff," she told me. She snickered. "Victor seemed to think it was better for everyone if someone not related to her helped with that." The smile never left her face. "He's not wrong that it would be awkward, but he's such a baby about some things." I didn't smile along with her. "Okay, why does your face look like that? Are you having a bad day at work?"

"Every day here is a bad day," I muttered. It was true. I didn't think a worse job existed anywhere in the world; my resolve to not complain about it hadn't made it more than a day. A big part of that was because it felt like Mr. Tingley was conspiring to make sure I hated this job. "I just wasn't expecting you to be going over to your ex's house so much."

Mia frowned. "Are you jealous?"

"No," I scoffed. Yes. And I knew there was no reason for it.

"This is ridiculous," she told me harshly.

"Is it? We barely get to see each other now and you're about to go gallivanting off with Victor twice a day."

"Gallivanting?" she asked, biting her lip. God, Mr. Tingley must've been rubbing off on me because he always told me I was gallivanting instead of doing work. As if I needed another reason to hate him.

I shrugged because what else was there to do? "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." She let out a huffy breath. "I'm helping out a friend, okay? This isn't about Victor; it's about Pilar. I hope you can be okay with that for the next three weeks because I told them I'd help, and I want to be there for her."

"She'll be out of the cast in three weeks?" I asked surprised. The words were out before another realization dawned on me. Maybe this meant she'd be staying. Maybe she took this as a sign that Atlanta was exactly where she was supposed to be.

"No. That's just when Victor goes away to his basketball program," she told him. "I'm assuming you won't have a problem with this after that." Her disgust was unmistakable. "I don't know how long I'll be helping Pilar for. It's an open invitation for as long as I'm here."

Disappointment crashed down on me. So, she hadn't made a decision. I channeled that disappointment into frustration. "Why can't her mom help her?"

"Her mom's in Texas right now with her dad. It's just Victor and Adrian with her. Even if her mom was there, I'd still want to help out." She gently put her hand on my elbow. "Please don't turn this into a thing."

"It's already a thing," I told her. I pulled my elbow back. "I know I'm being irrational about the whole Victor thing. I shouldn't be jealous-"

"You know he's gay," Mia interrupted me. "There is nothing for you to be jealous about."

But there was and I knew it. I thought part of Mia knew it too. It wasn't that I thought Mia and Victor might get back together. That ship safely sailed when Victor cheated on Mia and came out and started his whole thing with Benji, but it was undeniable that he and Mia had some kind of emotional connection. I hadn't noticed how deep that connection ran until Las Vegas and then I hadn't had to think about it for a long time. Now, it was kind of unavoidable.

I should have noticed a long time ago. I mean, it took a lot to forgive someone that cheated on you and lied to you your entire relationship. Not only had Mia forgiven him, but she regarded him as one of her best friends.

I was quiet too long. "I don't like this," she told me. Her eyes blazed with determination and anger. "This whole jealous side of you."

"I don't like it either," I admitted. I didn't want to feel this way. My watch buzzed reminding me that, despite the fact I'd barely touched my lunch, it was time to get back. "I have to go."

"I don't want to leave things like this." Mia's voice was so small and tender. It was easy for me to feel hurt that I barely got to see her these days, but this wasn't easy for her either. She loved me.

I found myself softening. "Look, I just… I'm in a weird place because I don't know what's going to happen between us." I held up my hand when she opened her mouth. "This isn't me trying to get you to make a decision. I just want you to know that it's not because I don't trust you. It's because I don't know how much time I have left with you."

I stood up and squeezed her hand before I went back to work.

Somehow, even though it was a significantly shorter period of work, it felt like it lasted days.

I didn't see Mia that night, and she spent most of Sunday with her dad. I wished I could have seen her more, but he was leaving in two days, so I understood it.

On Monday, when I dragged my feet into the building, I was startled when Mr. Tingley wasn't the man in the office. The man looked so familiar that I knew I'd seen him before but, for the life of me, I couldn't place him.

I knocked tentatively on the door and he looked up. He grinned at me. "Ah. Andrew, good to see you again." He offered me his hand. He didn't try to introduce himself to me.

"Uh… Sorry. It's good to see you too," I told him. "I was looking for Mr. Tingley." I looked behind me as if he might pop out from behind the potted plant outside of the office.

The man frowned. "He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"He was just covering for me. I was out of town this past week visiting my niece," he explained.

"Oh," I said slowly. If I'd known I'd only have to deal with him for a week, I wouldn't have made nearly as much of a big deal as I had. "He must've forgotten to mention it." I thought that was a very diplomatic way of putting it.

From the man's amused snicker, he thought so too. "Don't mind him. Danny doesn't make a great first impression, but he's a hard worker."

"Mando!" a man called. I recognized him as one of the workers who were in and out all day. "Welcome back!" His voice carried. "How was your vacation?"

Before he had a chance to answer, another man walked in. "Armando!"

That was all it took for his office to be overflowing. I caught snippets of conversation.

"Now she's got baby on the brain. You know how it is."

"She's beautiful."

"Her lungs definitely work" followed by a lot of laughter.

He had a whole conversation in Spanish that I only understood pieces of. While he spoke, I tried to find some clue as to how I knew him, but the picture frame on his desk was facing away from me and his full name was nowhere to be found.

It was amazing how different the energy around the office was. It was so obvious that, while Danny had been tolerated, Armando was adored. I just wish I knew how I knew him.

When his office cleared, he motioned for me to sit down. "Sorry about that," he said. Despite the fact that he'd been out a week, he didn't try to turn his computer on. He sat down on the other side of his desk and pulled a notebook off the shelf. He flipped so he was almost to the back of it. "With all of my new employees, I like to find out a little more about them and figure out what their goals are." He slipped back several pages. "I spoke with your father a few weeks ago, but I'd like to hear from you about what you're looking for."

"What do you mean?" I asked curiously.

"Well, I want to make sure that this is something you can put on your resume one day. I'm assuming you don't want to go into this field and I can't… I don't know, let you play ball all day, but I can make sure you have some experience you can talk about." So, he knew I played basketball. I wondered if I'd met him at one of my mom's work events.

I spent the next thirty minutes answering different questions for him. I expected it to feel like an interview, but it mostly felt like a conversation - like he genuinely cared about how I answered. It was weird but also nice.

My day was significantly better with Armando. He explained how to do the stuff that I'd apparently been doing wrong all of last week. He broke out this manual thicker than my Chemistry textbook that walked me through everything I could possibly need to do in this system which, as of this morning, consisted of fixing most of the progress I'd made last week. I told him that I still hadn't returned the binder and he didn't seem particularly upset about it.

Mia texted me that morning that she wasn't going to be able to make lunch. She didn't give me any information and didn't answer me when I asked if everything was okay. After my lunch break, I had to go to a meeting. Last week, it had been my chance to sit in the workroom sipping at old and crappy coffee, but Armando felt I was "part of the team", so I was expected to attend whatever meetings happened throughout the week.

At the meeting, Armando formally introduced me. He had everyone go around and introduce themselves to me as well. Today was my fifth day of work and it was the first time I was hearing some of these people's names. The meeting was pretty chill; Armando mostly wanted to be caught up on how things had gone last week. He reminded everyone that there would be another meeting on Wednesday after he got to talk to the guy he called "the big boss". This meeting was also the first time I learned that the people that were in and out all day were doing electrical work, not just building stuff. I wondered why Mr. Tingley hadn't told me that.

A little before two, a kid that looked kind of familiar came running in. "Hey, macho. Where's the fire?"

"I won," he gasped.

Armando looked confused. "Won what?"

A split second later, Victor also ran through the door.

The kid spun around to face him. "Told you I could beat you," he said smugly.

Victor rolled his eyes. "I told him if he beat me up here, I'd make him hot chocolate when he comes to work with me tomorrow morning."

"Sugar. That seems like exactly what he needs," Armando observed.

"I can handle sugar." The kid stuck his hands on his hips and looked adamant.

I felt like my brain connected all but one of the dots. I was on the precipice of understanding this, but I wasn't totally there yet. I think I was too confused by Victor suddenly being in front of me. "Uh-huh. Go get set up. I'll be there in a minute." Armando watched him disappear into the break room. "How's he been?"

"Good. You know, Adrian's been handling this all well, but I think he's ready for a break from me."

Armando nodded solemnly. "That checks out."

"Hey," Victor protested. His phone beeped and he glanced at it. Even I couldn't miss the huge smile that spread across his face. He quickly answered his message.

"How's Ben Halen doing?"

"You know Benji's already a nickname, right? You don't have to be weird and come up with something else."

"Of course, I have to be weird. It's my job."

It was at that exact moment that I realized why Armando looked familiar and why Victor was here. I hadn't seen Armando in over a year because no one from Victor's family had come to our games in the fall (Victor said it was because they were too early in the day, but I always felt like there was more to the story) and then I'd been M.I.A. in the spring. I knew him because after Victor's brief suspension from the team for freaking out that one game, his parents had been to every single one of our games. They'd been so over the top, but Victor had never seemed to be all that embarrassed by them.

In some weird twist of the universe, I was working for Victor's dad.

I barely had time to process that before Adrian was back. "Are you sure I can't go to work with you?"

I thought it was a weird question because he was literally at work with Armando and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was talking to Victor.

"Sorry. Sarah's with me until 4 today. Something about observing me in my Assistant Manager position." He sighed. "Besides, dad's been gone a whole week." Victor said that like it was an unimaginably long time. He crouched down. "And, you know, he's getting old. He needs someone to keep him on his toes. Keep his mind young. All that." He pretended to whisper but said it loud enough that we could all hear him.

Adrian nodded like what Victor had said made so much sense. He was just a little kid. To him, his dad probably seemed ancient. When I was young, I thought my parents were like a gazillion years old too.

"But not until I'm done with work," Armando warned.

"I charged his iPad," Victor promised. "He's got plenty to keep himself busy for a couple of hours." His phone beeped again. He didn't even look at it. "I gotta get going. I'll be home once we close."

"Don't forget to pick up that thing." Armando shot Victor a pointed look.

"I won't. That's why I'm leaving now. Have fun, papa." He messed up Adrian's hair which sent him running.

I didn't realize I was staring until Victor turned to leave. "Oh," he said surprised.

"Andrew's working for me," Armando explained. "Making an honest living this summer."

"I thought you said there wasn't room in the budget." Victor had tried to say it quietly, but I could hear him.

"Not for full-time. We could squeeze part-time work," Armando whispered back.

Victor nodded. "Good luck working for this one," he told me with a sly smile. Armando went to push Victor away, but Victor ducked under his arm. "This is what I mean. You're getting old, slowing down. Good thing Adrian's here."

"How's this for slowing down?" Armando reached for Victor, but he dodged him again. They both were laughing and, for a minute, they went back and forth. Victor said something about brittle bones, Armando said something about Victor lacking wisdom (or something like that).

Victor was still laughing as he disappeared through the door. I stayed rooted to the spot for several minutes. I didn't know why I was so stuck in my head about it. Probably because in a three-minute conversation, I'd seen more of a loving family than I'd ever experienced. I didn't know anyone with a family quite like Victor's. Most of my friends had divorced parents or parents that were always away or parents like mine. In so many ways, Victor had everything I'd always wanted: siblings he adored, parents that took care of him and supported him, the perfect life. I knew it hadn't always been that way; I'd witnessed it in the fall and I knew about what happened in March but that didn't change that he had it pretty good now.

I ended up in the workroom with Adrian because Armando's boss turned up for an unscheduled meeting and he didn't have time to give me my next task. I expected Adrian to be watching something on his iPad, but he was playing some game with riddles and puzzles he had to solve to progress from room to room and collect these little tokens.

It struck me how smart he was for a little kid. I expected this to feel like babysitting, but he was too smart and mature for it to be anything like that.

I didn't notice that Armando had gotten out of his meeting until Adrian asked, "is it time to go home?" I didn't think I imagined that he sounded disappointed. I kind of felt the same way. This hadn't felt like work.

"No, but it's time for Andrew to go. Unless you're looking for overtime."

I glanced at the clock over the coffee pot. "I guess my shift is over."

"Uh, Andrew. Before you go, could I have a word?" I was so sure I somehow got in trouble, and I wracked my brain to figure out what it could've been. I was taken aback when his question had nothing to do with work. "You don't have to answer this if it makes you uncomfortable, but is Victor okay?"

I literally had no idea how to answer that because I'd seen Victor a handful of times since we got back. "Um… Yeah. Why wouldn't he be?"

Armando shrugged. "He doesn't talk to me or Isa. We try to ask him about how he's doing without Benji…" Armando kept talking about how they were worried this was harder than Victor was letting on, but I only registered that in the back of my head. In the perfect world I'd constructed for Victor, I'd forgotten something very important - he probably hadn't seen Benji in weeks and it would be many more before he would see him again. Just being faced with the possibility of that with Mia was hard; I couldn't imagine going weeks without seeing her.

I didn't think he'd seemed upset the few times I'd seen him, but I could've missed it. Hoping it wasn't a lie, I said, "he misses Benji, but he's okay."

"You'll keep an eye on him, right? You don't have to keep tabs on him or anything, but he spends all of his time working or waiting for Benji to call." Armando looked troubled.

"Mia and I were talking about doing something this week with him and Lake and Lucy." It was another lie, but I was pretty sure I could swing it. It might even earn me some points with Mia because she'd probably be thrilled if I made more of an effort with Victor.

"Good. I'm glad." Armando genuinely looked relieved. "I'm glad you've got his back. He always spoke so highly of you." His phone rang. "See you tomorrow. Dress comfortably." I left while he answered his phone.

I called Mia on my way home. Straight to voicemail. I was eager to tell her about this new development with work and to share good news for a change. I guessed she was still held up with whatever had kept her from lunch, so I was taken aback when she was pacing up and down my driveway when I got home. I could see the earbuds in her ears and she was gesturing wildly. She must've been on the phone, but I didn't know who she was talking to because, by the time I got out of the car, it was just to hear her say, "thanks for talking. I'll see you later."

She hung up and turned to face me. It was only then that I realized she was crying. I didn't ask; I knew she'd tell me when she was ready. I wrapped her in my arms.

She immediately pushed me away. As her face contorted, I knew these were angry tears. "What's going on?"

"Lake talked to my dad today."

"Okay," I said slowly.

"She made this whole plan for me. Got her mom in on it. I walked downstairs to an ambush."

"Isn't that good though? You'll have a place to stay."

She glared at me. "She didn't even talk to me about it. She just assumed I'd want to stay here with her."

"Don't you?"

"God, you don't get it either, do you?" She wiped at the tears that streaked her cheeks. "She made it seem like I'd made up my mind. My dad heard from her that he thought I wanted to stay behind. It wasn't her decision to make!"

"I'm sure she just wanted to give you an option," I reasoned.

"My dad's making me stay here this summer," she seethed. "I'm going to visit him for a week at the end of July, but he's not going to let me make a decision until school is supposed to start."

I tried to understand, but I felt like she'd gotten really good news. "You have more time. That's not a bad thing."

Mia let out a shaky breath and shook her head. "This was a mistake." She ran to her car, ignoring me as I called her name.

I didn't understand anything anymore. I felt like our relationship was constantly going back and forth. We were hot then cold then hot then cold, and I couldn't keep track of it. I hoped that she'd make a decision and make peace with that decision because being trapped with her mood swings was hard.

Neither of my parents were home. It was one of the perks of my work schedule - I got home hours before they did. I texted some of the guys from the team to see if we could get an impromptu game together.

It was the perfect antidote for the chaos. There was something that always grounded me about playing basketball. It was like I didn't have to think. I ran on pure instinct and adrenaline. It was one of the most intoxicating feelings I'd ever experienced. Impossible to put into words, it was what made me a basketball player.

Before I'd changed, we had enough for a game. Victor hadn't answered, but I wasn't surprised. He was working and, even if he wasn't, I doubted he would've answered. I was pretty sure quitting the team was off the table now that he was genuinely exploring playing basketball in college, but I didn't think he was ready to come back to us. I wouldn't be if I was him.

As we all gathered on one of the basketball courts we sometimes practiced on if the weather was nice, I realized I was going to have to talk about the elephant in the room at some point; as a team, we were going to have to figure out how to be better for Victor. For now, though, I lost myself in the game.

I let my world evolve until it consisted of me, the ball, and my teammates. Despite how long it had been since we'd played together, we moved like a machine.

It was the break I needed. I hadn't realized how much I missed the jokes and taunts we tossed back and forth. Being with them had always been effortless. When Harvey suggested we keep the momentum going and hang out, I didn't hesitate to agree. I thought it was exactly what I needed. I needed an escape from my parents and Mia. I didn't want to think about any of it.

When had anything gone my way lately?

Which was why it made sense that I would walk into Brasstown and see Mia leaning on the counter while Victor made a cup of coffee. His back was to me, so he probably had no idea that I'd walked in. Mia didn't notice me either.

I shouldn't be surprised. Of course, she'd be here. Where else was she going to go? She was pissed at me and Lake; she mostly tolerated other people. It made sense that she'd call Victor. It still made me angry. I forced one foot in front of the other as I followed my teammates toward the front.

Victor must've said something to her that resulted in her shoving him. I could hear his indignant squeak from here. "You keep getting me in trouble!"

I thought his words were for Mia until I heard Benji's voice. "It's not my fault that you agreed with me," he pointed out.

"I just said you usually know what you're talking about!"

Victor passed the coffee to Mia just as Kieran cleared his throat. Victor turned to face us and looked unsettled but not guilty. "Uh, hey guys." He placed his phone face down on the counter. "What can I get you?"

Victor didn't try to make small talk when he made the coffee. It became obvious that he wanted to get us out of Brasstown as quickly as possible. I was so in my head that I didn't realize this was the first time Victor was talking to most of the guys on our team since everything had happened. It took Cody's, "we missed you today" and Victor's stiff answer of "I have work" for me to understand why he was acting so weird.

"We'll plan something when you don't have work," I told him. We had to start somewhere and I thought the more we tried to figure this out over the summer, the better it would be.

"Yeah. Maybe." Even I could tell he didn't mean that. "Things are pretty busy, you know. I have work every day, and I move into my dorm in a few weeks."

"Oh shit. Did you graduate early?" The question came from Teddy. I thought it was just Teddy being Teddy until Victor answered him.

"No. I'm going to a basketball thing over the summer."

He looked embarrassed. When he'd told me about the program, I hadn't thought it was a secret. I figured everyone knew. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from telling them the truth. I thought that maybe one of them would have heard about it but they had no idea what Victor was talking about. I hadn't known something like this existed either. It was a prestigious program. When Victor had told me about it, I'd looked it up. His name and state were listed on the website along with 29 other kids under a disclaimer that the list was subject to change as kids accepted or turned down their offer. I couldn't imagine anyone that would turn it down. Two kids from Georgia were on the list and, after doing a deep dive, I learned it was the first time they'd had in-state players in five years and, as far as I could tell, the first time they'd had more than one in-state player ever.

"Cool."

Then Victor was back to silently making coffee. Mia was firmly looking down at the counter. I wondered what advice he'd given her. Was he encouraging her to go so she could be with her family or stay so she could graduate with the classmates she'd grown up with? I couldn't figure out which way he'd lean. He was one of Mia's best friends; he wouldn't want her to go, but he was also closer with his family than he was with anyone else (except maybe Benji). I didn't know if he'd tell her to make a decision he'd never make himself.

"Sorry. I forgot what you asked for," Victor said to me as he made the last coffee. He didn't forget; I hadn't ordered anything.

I glanced at the Specials board behind him and ordered the first thing I saw without looking at what was in it.

It took a couple of minutes for Victor to ring all of us up and then we made our escape outside. For a moment, no one spoke. "Weird," Cody said.

They agreed, and we moved on. Part of my mind was with Mia the rest of the night. I couldn't shake the feeling I'd had last week. Like I wasn't enough for her and, somehow, Victor was.

I couldn't sleep, so I was tired and irritable when I got to work. Armando was already out of the building which meant Mr. Tingley was there to greet me, making my day even better.

I couldn't do anything right that morning. I dropped everything I picked up - an entire ream of paper, a box of pens, one of the coffee mugs that were kept in the workroom. I wasn't actually sure if I worked or if I just cleaned up the messes I made.

When lunch rolled around, I wasn't surprised when Mr. Tingley ushered Armando into his office before he was fully through the door.

I also wasn't surprised when Armando called me over once I got back from lunch. I idled in his doorway while Mr. Tingley left. He had a smug look on his face. "I'm fired, right?" I guessed. One week. I was sure people had gotten fired faster, but I was never going to hear the end of this.

He cocked his head. "You're having a bad day. Everyone's entitled to one," he told me.

"Oh." I sat down across from him. "Then what's this about?"

He hesitated. "You can say no to this," he told me.

I frowned and looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Adrian had a great time with you yesterday. He wouldn't stop talking about how much fun he had and Victor thought… and you can say no, but Victor thought that maybe you wouldn't mind if Adrian had to hang out around here more often. It would never be for the full day; just for a couple of hours when Vic has to work afternoons. It's really hard for Pilar to watch him when she can't move around easily and afternoons at Brasstown get busy in the summer."

I really didn't understand. I couldn't figure out why he was telling me that Adrian was going to be here more often. "Okay," I said slowly.

"Or not. Vic can take him to work, but if you wanted to… obviously, I would pay you."

"You want me to watch him," I realized.

"More or less. I normally wouldn't ask, but Victor vouched for you and you were good with him." I could see the idea made him nervous and I would've been offended if I hadn't listened to Victor talk about how protective his parents were during our first basketball season. He missed the end-of-the-season party Wyatt threw because he had to babysit and when I'd asked why they didn't just find a babysitter, he'd just laughed at me.

I never fully got an explanation, but I knew this was a really big deal.

"Yeah, of course," I told him. "I can do that."

That was how it started. Victor dropped off Adrian on his way to work two more times that week, and we'd spend a couple of hours together. Armando always had me clock out and would pay me himself for my time with Adrian.

I quickly realized that Adrian particularly enjoyed card games and he spent Friday afternoon teaching me a complicated game that I'd never heard of before - Friday was a surprise. Victor got called into work, and he couldn't bring Adrian with him, so Adrian had been here nearly as long as I had.

I didn't know how it happened, but somehow he got me to talk about Mia. When I thought about Victor dating Mia, I honestly never considered that his whole family would have met her. Adrian spoke very fondly of her and surprisingly astutely. He knew from hushed conversations he'd overheard between Pilar and Mia that we were fighting.

"I think that Mia would appreciate you being honest with her," he told me as he played a king that completely wiped out the train of cards I'd been building. I frowned as I passed him the cards.

"I don't know. Something just feels off about it," I told him. "It feels like she wants to spend more time with Victor than with me."

Adrian looked confused. "But they're friends," he said. "Pilar once told me that they dated because they thought they liked each other as more than friends but realized they only liked each other as best friends. Shouldn't she want to spend time with her friends?"

I wanted to tell him that he couldn't understand, but I wondered if it was that simple. Of course, Mia had friends outside of me and she'd want to see them and spend time with them. Then why did this feel different? "Yes, of course. And I love that she has Victor and your sister."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I just miss her," I told him.

"Why don't you come over with her then?" he asked.

I stared at him because I never really considered that. "What?"

"Yeah," he said enthusiastically. "You can hang out with Victor while Mia helps Pilar! Mami keeps telling Victor he needs to stop the moping."

I eyed Adrian. Despite telling Armando that I was going to try to get Victor out, I'd made zero attempts to organize something. "Is he doing that a lot?"

Adrian shrugged. "I think he's okay. He does spend a lot of time waiting for Benji." It was almost exactly what Armando had said.

As if thinking his name summoned him, Armando poked his head in. "It's gonna be a late night for me. Andrew, think you can hang out for another hour? Isa's at a doctor's appointment with Pilar and Victor can't get off his shift early, but he can stop by and grab Adrian when he's done. He should be here at 5"

"Of course," I agreed.

"Sweet," Adrian cheered.

I didn't know yet that he had a whole plan that would prove I was every bit as incapable of saying no to him as Victor. I thought he was just excited to keep playing his game. Which he was very good at. And consistently kicked my butt at.

Victor showed up at 5:15. Armando had long since left to go visit a site that he didn't think he'd be back from any time soon. "Hey, papa," he called. He went to stand behind Adrian and whistled. "I cannot believe you let him con you into playing this. You know he made it up, right? That's why he always wins."

No, I did not know that. I thought it was just some weird game he learned at school. "I knew something was weird about this," I said lightly.

He nudged Adrian. "You wanna pack up your stuff? We're gonna pick up some pizza on our way home. Pilar requested it."

Adrian studied Victor. "Is she okay?"

"She's good," he promised. "I just talked to her. She's, you know, Pilar, but she's okay. They'll probably be home around when we get home."

"Can Andrew come with us? Please?" Adrian begged.

Victor looked startled. "Uh… I think that's a question for him."

Adrian turned towards me. "Please," he repeated.

I looked at Victor helplessly. I had no idea what to say. "It's cool if you join us," Victor offered. "We're just gonna chill at home."

"I don't know. I was gonna shoot some hoops." It wasn't the truth, but it was the first thing that popped into my head.

It was apparently the worst excuse I could use. "You just said that you needed to practice before you leave," Adrian told Victor. "You can play together after dinner!"

I heard myself saying, "sure" before I actually made up my mind.

Adrian rushed to throw his iPad and games in his backpack and ran out ahead of Victor. "Sorry. You don't have to do this," he said softly.

I shrugged. "It's cool. I could use a challenge on the court," I told him. I felt like if I focused on that, it wouldn't be nearly as weird.

He chuckled. "So could I. I've dragged Adrian and my dad out with me a few times, and I got Felix once but they're… you know. They try," he said diplomatically. "I'm pretty sure this program's gonna kick my butt."

"You getting excited?" He eyed me and shrugged. "It's cool, you know. You should be excited. It's a big deal and you earned it, Salazar."

He looked pleased. "Thanks." He sucked in his lips. "Can I cross a line for a second?"

I stared straight ahead as we descended the stairs. "Mia?" I guessed. He nodded. "Please. Cross it."

"You need to tell her it's okay if she goes," he told me.

"What? Why?"

"Because that's the only way she'll be able to make this decision. She feels like if she chooses her family she'll lose you and Lake. Tell her she won't. Tell her it's not a decision of who she'll lose. I don't know what she'll do, but she needs to feel like she can go without tearing her life apart."

"You've talked to her about this a lot," I accused.

He shrugged. "She stopped by Brasstown on Monday." He frowned. "But I guess you knew that by now, huh?"

"I saw her when I stopped in, but I haven't seen her much since."

Victor looked perplexed, but we were outside by then so he swallowed whatever he was going to say.

Adrian was literally spinning in circles while he waited for us. There was a slight moment of confusion when I realized that both Victor and Adrian assumed we'd be walking because they'd walked here. Then there was a slight moment of awkwardness when I said I could drive.

Adrian and Victor exchanged uneasy glances. "She's gonna kill us," Adrian said out loud after over a minute had passed.

"We don't have to tell her," Victor suggested. "Besides, she trusts Andrew to watch you."

"Yeah, but she barely trusts you and papi to drive me places," Adrian argued.

"We don't have to tell her," Victor repeated.

"You want us to lie?" Adrian sounded scandalized.

"Okay, how about this? We tell her I forced you into the car," Victor said sarcastically. "It'll be fine. I'll tell her it didn't make sense for us to walk when Andrew could drive. Get in."

I waited until both of them got in to shake my head. Weird.

The pizza place wasn't far from where Victor lived. I'd never been to his apartment and hadn't driven to this part of town… pretty much ever. For some reason, I remembered the building being way more decrepit than it was. It was nice inside and Victor's apartment seemed loved and lived in. Pilar was sitting on the couch with her leg propped on a pillow when we walked in. Felix was next to her. I'd known they were dating, but it still felt weird to see them like this. "Exactly! Baby monkeys!" Pilar looked over at us. "Oh, he just got home," she said. "Hold on."

"Who's that?" Victor asked curiously.

"Benji. He says you didn't answer him?"

Victor looked surprised and pulled out his phone. I could see from his notifications that he had five missed calls from Benji. "Tell him I'll call him now." He looked tense as he disappeared down the hallway.

"Hi," Pilar said.

"Hi." I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. "I brought pizza."

"Sweet," Pilar said. "You can put it in the kitchen."

Victor's mom was standing in the kitchen with her back to me. "Uh, hi, Mrs. Salazar. Victor invited me to dinner. I hope that's okay."

"I invited him to dinner," Adrian interrupted. He ducked under the boxes to stand next to his mom. I put them down on the counter.

"Of course. The more the merrier," she said. "Where's Victor?"

"I'll give you three guesses," Adrian told her.

"Benji?" she asked surprised. "I thought he was playing tonight."

Adrian shrugged and reached for the pizza box. Isabel swatted at him. "Not until you wash your hands," she warned.

"Fine," he grumbled.

"I'll see what's going on with Victor," I muttered because I had no idea what I was doing here and it was dawning on me that this was the worst idea in the history of ideas.

I'd never been here, but it was easy to figure out which room was Victor's because his door was open and he was sitting on his bed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and his eyes were squeezed shut. "Kay? I know you're upset, but you're okay. That's all that matters," he said. By the look on his face, those words were as much for him as they were for Benji. He was quiet for a minute. "Yeah, I'm glad everyone else is okay too." When Victor opened his eyes, I was surprised to see how watery they were. I knocked gently and took a step inside when he nodded to me. "What's going to happen now?"

Victor was quiet for several minutes. "Okay. Keep me updated." He glanced at me. "I'll call you later. We're about to have dinner. Right, yeah. Then call me whenever you're settled. I don't care what time it is. Me too."

He hung up his phone and immediately typed out a long message. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Victor said. "Benji was in a car accident. He, one of his bandmates, and a few guys from the band he's touring with ran out to get food and it happened. He's fine. The car's totaled but they walked away from it with just some cuts and bruises." He clenched his hands into fists.

"So, that's a good thing. He's okay," I said slowly.

"Yeah, but he's all alone," Victor said. "I wish I could be there for him."

"His bandmates are with him, right? He's not alone."

Like with Mia, I felt like I said something wrong because Victor looked pissed. "Sure. We should go eat. Pizza's gonna get cold."

He stood up and left me standing in his room. I took a second to look around. His room wasn't what I was expecting. I didn't know what I was expecting. Maybe pride flags or something, but it was… normal. Not that pride flags wouldn't be normal, but it looked like a bedroom that could belong to any teenager. Benji was everywhere - in drawings that were hanging around the room and the framed photo on Victor's dresser. There was a picture of his family as well and a small flag with "Puerto Rico" written at the top.

I closed Victor's door when I left because it started to feel invasive. I got to the kitchen in time for all conversation to abruptly stop.

I tried not to think about the very real possibility that they'd just been talking about me. "You remember Andrew. He's one of my teammates," Victor introduced.

"It's great to see you again, Andrew," his mom said warmly as if I hadn't just talked to her in the kitchen.

Dinner was quiet. I figured with everything going on with Benji, I'd get to escape after dinner, but Victor still wanted to play. I think he needed the distraction.

We passed Mia on our way out. It was my first time seeing her since Monday. We'd sent texts back and forth but neither of us had made an effort to meet up. I still didn't feel like I did anything wrong.

"Hey," she said. Her eyes met mine and I could see her surprise. I wasn't prepared to see a little guilt mixed in there as well.

"Hi."

It was all we said because by then, Victor and I were outside and Mia was climbing the stairs. I wasn't sure if I was just out of practice or if Victor was channeling everything into our game, but he kicked my ass. Literally (sort of). I was definitely leaving this game with bruises. Lots of them.

After he made a basket from half-court (I don't want to talk about it), I grabbed the ball and faced him. "Talk."

It was all I said. I didn't know if I wanted him to talk about Benji or Mia or the weather, but I needed him to talk if we wanted to leave this game in one piece. He crossed his arms and I thought he might've been stubborn enough to ignore me and grab the ball from me. After a moment, he exhaled. "I was supposed to go see Benji next week," he admitted. "With Pilar being injured, we just can't swing it."

"I could watch Adrian, you know. It's worked out so far."

"No, that's not it. We can't swing it." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Her ER bill was… a lot. Probably more than I know; I've only seen some of the bills, but just her ER visit was almost two-thousand dollars, and we don't have that kind of money lying around."

"Don't you have insurance?"

"That's with insurance. They only cover a certain percentage of x-rays and then she had her CT scan to make sure she didn't hit her head. Just going to the ER and not being admitted costs money."

I thought about how his dad had asked me to watch Adrian because Victor had picked up extra shifts. I'd thought he'd just done it to do it. I hadn't realized… of course, I hadn't realized. I hadn't asked or thought anything of it because I never had to think of it myself.

"Sucks."

He nodded and looked troubled. "We'll be fine. We can make it work, but it means I can't take a week off to go see him. The next time I'll see him… I don't even know. Who knows if he'll be able to come see me? Now, this thing happened and I can't even be there for him." He let out a frustrated groan before he sunk to the ground. "It's why this whole thing with Mia makes me so mad. You can be there for her. You can be exactly who she needs you to be right now and you're not doing it. Mia knows it; I know it; you know it. You want her to stay and you make her feel like that's her only option; like she'd be betraying you by choosing her family."

"I don't want to pretend that I want her to go."

"I don't want her to go either, but… did you ever think that that might be what's best for her?"

"How can being away from me be what's best for her? And Lake?"

Victor snorted. "Maybe don't mention Lake right now."

"They still haven't talked?"

"Lake hasn't apologized. She doesn't think she did anything wrong." There was a lot of that going around. "I know we're not friends and, believe me, I know how much it sucks to think about her leaving. It is one of the hardest things to know that you can't fit into someone's plans all the time, but…" he sighed. "The only thing I think I would've regretted more than telling Benji to go is telling him to stay for me."

"It's different. Benji's coming back."

"This time," Victor told me. "What if this takes off like we think it will? What if it becomes a national tour and then an international tour? We're looking at a lifetime of this."

"A lifetime?"

"Well, yeah." He played with the hem of his shorts. "Yeah."

I sat down across from him and extended my legs. "How do I let her go?"

He didn't look over at me. "You remind yourself of how much you love her and that, while you want to be enough of a reason to stay, it doesn't mean you're not enough if she leaves. It just means that you can't be part of some pieces of her life and that's normal."

I hated that. "Is it that easy?"

Victor let out a sound I could only describe as a deranged laugh. "Easy? Andrew, it's the hardest thing I've ever done. Do you know how many times I've almost broken and begged Benji to come home? He would," he said confidently. "But I can't do that to him because he loves music and if this is what he wants to do with his life… well, I'd be the worst boyfriend in the world if I expected him to choose me over every important thing in his life."

"Is that why Mia's mad at me?" I asked. "Because she thinks I'm asking her to choose."

"She's not mad at you. She's scared. She thinks things have been weird between the two of you since you got back and…" He trailed off and looked at me nervously.

"And?" I pressed.

"She worries that if you can't handle her spending time with other people now, how will you be able to deal if she moves across the country? When we hang out, that's what we talk about. It's almost always about you. About how important you are to her, about how much she loves you, about how scared she is to lose you. She doesn't want to, but she feels like she's going to. And if she doesn't lose you, she feels like she's going to lose her family."

"She's not going to lose any of us."

Victor cocked his head. "Maybe you need to tell her that. Mia is… amazing. She doesn't deserve for anyone to make this harder on her. She doesn't want to go, but part of her doesn't want to stay, and this shit your pulling with telling her how hard this is on you? How does that help? It just adds to everything. This decision isn't about you no matter how much you want it to be. If it was about you, she'd probably choose to stay. But it's about her family and her future. So, stop throwing yourself a pity party and be there for her." I stared at him stunned.

Victor's phone beeped and he nearly dropped it in his rush to pull it out. "Felix," he said out loud.

He clicked something on his phone. Felix to Victor. You up for a midnight rendezvous? Over.

"Doesn't he text?" I asked.

Victor shrugged. "Sometimes. We use walkie-talkies when we're in our apartments." I raised my eyebrows because that sounded like something two little kids would do. "Hey! It's kind of cool. Anyway, whenever I'm not there, he does this so I know it's a walkie message."

Okay, that was weird. I wasn't overreacting. That was really weird.

I don't know. Something's going on with Benji and I don't want to miss him. Over.

Felix responded less than a minute later. I know. Pilar texted me. I thought you might want to talk about it. Over.

Then yes. Over.

12:30. See ya. A second message came through a second later. Over.

Victor was still smiling as he put his phone away. It was still weird, but it was kind of sweet. I couldn't think of a single person I'd do something like that with.

Victor climbed to his feet. "I can't tell you what to do, but will you at least think about what we talked about tonight?"

I only nodded. "I'm gonna head out. You go on." I had no intention to leave because I could see Mia's car was still here, and I knew that whatever way this could go, we needed to figure it out tonight.

I didn't know if I could be the boyfriend to tell her to go when I wanted her to stay this badly - surely Victor didn't understand how I felt. Maybe it was easier for him to let Benji go than it would be for me to let Mia go - but some of what he said stuck with me. Mia needed to know she wasn't going to lose me.

I sat on the hood of her car. It was over an hour before she came out. I shouldn't have been surprised that Victor walked her to her car.

I hopped off and hid behind the side facing away from the apartment. It was childish, but I didn't want Victor to see that I'd stuck around.

I didn't know what I expected them to be talking about, but I was startled when they were arguing. "You're wrong," Victor said.

"No, you're wrong."

They went back and forth for a full minute. It took actual effort for me to convince myself it wasn't flirty. I didn't get any insight into what their argument was about until Victor said, "if you think pineapple pizza is better than plain pizza, we might not be able to be friends anymore."

"Hawaiian pizza," Mia corrected. "Not just pineapple pizza."

"What's the difference?"

"They didn't just throw pineapple on the pizza," she pointed out. "There's ham too. And it's the best kind of pizza."

Victor made a face. "No. Just no."

I could see the smile that spread across Mia's face from here. "Let's just agree to disagree, okay?"

"Deal." Victor offered her a quick hug. "See you tomorrow morning."

"See you." Mia waited outside her car until Victor went inside. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"How'd you know?" I asked sheepishly as I stood up.

"We saw you move when we were inside." She crossed her arms.

Despite Victor's earlier words, she certainly looked angry right now. This had definitely been a mistake, but I was here now, so I guess we were doing this. We stood like that for a minute - her with her arms crossed, me trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do. Victor's words kept ringing in my ears.

I took a step towards her. "Look, I know what I'm supposed to say. I'm supposed to tell you to go with your family; I'm supposed to tell you that Lake and I crossed a line, but I don't want you to go. How could I? You're like… the greatest person, Mia. You're kind and sweet and smart and crazy talented and funny and… you're you. There'd be something wrong with me if I didn't want you around all the time. I can't say I don't want you to stay because that would be a lie, but I can say that no matter what decision you make, you're not going to lose me. We'll figure it out if you go. This is hard for me, but it's harder for you, and I'm sorry that I made it worse."

Mia hastily wiped under her eyes. "This is really hard," she told me. Her voice cracked just a little. "I don't want to go either, but…"

"Part of you doesn't want to stay?" I guessed. She nodded; I hadn't wanted Victor to be right because that meant he was probably right about all of the other stuff. Including my pity party. "Then give yourself a break. You're going to California in… what? Six weeks? Make a decision then and not until then and let it be your decision. Not mine, not Lake's. Just yours."

"You'd be okay with that?"

"It's not about me." I went around to the front of her car. "I love you and this is what you need so don't think about it. For the next six weeks, let's just enjoy our summer."

When I hugged her, she seemed to melt into my embrace. There were so many things we didn't say simply because we didn't need to. We didn't need to talk about how much these last few days sucked; we both knew.

Things were different after we talked. I felt like the pressure was off of both of us. I always knew it was there, but I didn't have to think about it because it was something that belonged in the future.

Everything seemed to fall into place. I had a groove at work. Armando was surprisingly great to work for (WAY better than Mr. Tingley). He'd even taken me with him a few times when he went to check on the wiring in some buildings - it was kind of cool to hear him talk through everything that went into it. Adrian might be the greatest little kid in the world. I sometimes forgot that he was only 9; he acted way older. Honestly, sometimes he acted more mature than I did. Mia and I were great. We weren't fighting anymore which was a welcome reprieve for both of us. I would go as far as to say we were thriving. Even if my afternoons with Denny were awkward, they weren't the worst thing in the world. And I was surprised by how much I liked my online class. I still wasn't sure I wanted to do anything with business, but I enjoyed what we were learning.

The only black mark on my life lately was my parents. They were every bit as frustrating and condescending as they'd always been; I just found it so much more jarring lately. They'd parade me around in front of their friends and boast about everything I was doing this summer and how I managed to independently stay on top of my work while I was gone and talked about all the great things I did on my trip (they were never specific and no one asked). In the same night, they'd cold shoulder me once we left or would criticize the outfit I chose or a story I told or how I'd conducted myself. It was annoying, but I didn't have to be around it much, so it wasn't annoying enough to get in the way of my summer.

That was why I was taken aback when, three weeks later, Armando called me into his office to tell me I was done. His words didn't click until he said, "it's been great working with you."

"Wait. What did I do?" I asked. I should've felt relieved, but I didn't. It wasn't the best job out there, but I was learning a lot. I thought this job was going to be the worst thing to ever happen to me, but I felt like I wasn't done yet. I mean, I didn't even know what Mr. Tingley's actual job was yet or whether he had the power to fire me or who was the owner of the moldy sandwich in the fridge that now had several passive-aggressive post-it notes on it about how gross that was and how someone needed to take ownership and throw it out. Those kinds of questions needed answers before I could leave.

"Do?" Armando asked.

"Why are you firing me?"

"I'm not. I assumed you knew… your parents called yesterday, so I didn't get their voicemail until today." Right. Yesterday was move-in day, so I had to spend a horrible day with Mr. Tingley. I was pretty sure his primary job here was to make me miserable. "They told me that they felt you'd learned your lesson. They thought four weeks was enough, so you're free. I'm guessing you didn't know."

"You could say that." I frowned. All I'd wanted for weeks was for this whole thing to be done (just not because I'd gotten fired). Yet, when I thought about quitting, I thought about Victor who was picking up extra shifts at Brasstown to help pay for Pilar's medical bill. I thought about Armando paying me to watch Adrian with money he obviously didn't have. I thought about Mia telling me I'd never had to work hard for anything in my life. I thought about Holly who, at twenty, was her brother's legal guardian, worked a full-time job to support herself and her brother, and still managed to be a part-time student. I didn't like working, but the past four weeks had changed me. They'd taught me how to stand on my own two feet for the first time in my life, and I wasn't done with that. "With all due respect, no. If you've already filled my position, then fine, but… I don't want to quit."

He pushed aside his notebook. "Why not?"

I was in his office for nearly two hours.

When he let me go with a handshake, I went back to work. Work that I planned to be doing for a long time.

I rode the high of my decision all the way to my meeting with Denny. It was Tuesday which meant it was awkward-walk-around-the-park day. I wasn't sure if that was better than pretend-to-read-so-you-don't-have-to-make-small-talk days on Thursdays. The jury was still out.

Holly was pissed when I got there. "You could've given us a head's up!" Her hands were bunched into fists and she looked like she was about ready to punch me.

"About what? I'm not late."

She let out an annoyed sound. "Oh, I don't know. That you met your community service requirement, so you no longer are gonna be meeting with Denny."

Oh, God. I wanted to take that out so badly. It was literally the perfect opportunity. I just needed to go along with it, but I couldn't. I couldn't let my parents pull the strings anymore like I was their puppet. Oh, but would it really be the worst if I let this be the last string they pulled? Denny didn't like me. Surely he'd be better with a mentor that wanted to get to know him… the moment the thought entered my mind, I realized I hadn't given Denny a chance. I'd written this off as an awkward biweekly experience. Maybe it wouldn't work out, but I needed to give it more of an effort than I had so far. "I don't know what you were told, but I'm not done here."

"So you're not dropping us?" she confirmed.

"No, of course not."

"See, Andrew likes you. He's not quitting."

"Did he say something?" I asked uncertainly.

"No, but I could tell." The frown on his face did make it abundantly clear that he was not happy with me. "Right. I'll be back in an hour…" she glanced at me. "And a half?"

"Take as much time as you need," I assured her. I knew Holly spent this time doing homework for the online class she was taking this summer. I honestly gave her so much credit. She was twenty and had the weight of the world on her shoulders. It only affirmed that this was what I needed to be doing.

Denny and I walked in silence for a few minutes until we got to a bench. We both sat down. "Look. I know you're mad. Yes, I never really wanted to do this. I know I've just kinda been here the last four weeks, but it's because I was… it's not important. You don't need my excuses, but I want to do better. I'm here, and I'm going to be here twice a week. If there's something you want to talk about… or if you want to talk at all, I'm here." Still nothing. "Or you can just keep hating me but, from my experience, that's exhausting."

When he didn't say anything else, I stood up. "I don't."

The words were so quiet, it took me a minute to realize they came from him. His voice wasn't what I was expecting. It was way deeper than I was prepared for. "You don't what?"

"Hate you."

That was it. As we continued our walk, that was all I got out of him, but it filled me with hope. Maybe I could make a difference here. Maybe I could help Denny find his voice again.

Once Holly picked him up and stopped crying when I told her what he said (he rolled his eyes at her - he may not speak much, but he was a pretty funny kid if you picked up on his nonverbal stuff), I went straight home. I had no idea if my parents would be here. It was after they'd be done but, sometimes, they had plans after work or just wanted to get out. Luck was on my side because when I pulled into my driveway, both of their cars were there.

I actually heard them the moment I got out of my car. They were in the back. I bypassed the front door and went around to the gate. When I got to the backyard, I could see them sitting on the deck with the Dinovis. The Dinovis lived down the street from us. If they were here, that meant they had gossip. Mrs. Dinovi seemed to spend her days getting up in everybody's business and making sure that everybody else was up to date on that business.

It honestly almost made me change my mind. I had enough respect for my parents that I couldn't air any of our dirty laundry in front of the Dinovis no matter how much I wanted to.

When my mom asked me how work was, I told her it had gone well. I made up something about some project that was going to take me through next week because, even if I couldn't say everything I wanted to say, I needed them to know that it didn't work, that they couldn't buy me, that they couldn't make the decisions about my life anymore. I doubted that fully came across, but my dad at least looked surprised, so I got some satisfaction from that.

I went inside to shower and found myself texting Victor. He filled me in on the first two days of his program, and to say I was living vicariously through him was an understatement. He'd already met a ton of people and the next s from the NBA, college scouts, and professional basketball coaches. He seemed overwhelmed but in a good way. He could only talk for a bit because he was in class, but I was glad we could catch up.

I knew Mia was with Lake. I'd text her later tonight, but I didn't want to bother her right now. Lake had been great about not intruding on my time with Mia, so I wanted to return the favor.

Hours passed before my parents came inside. I heard them and bounded down the stairs before our sliding door was shut.

"Why did you tell Armando and Holly I was done?" I asked.

My mom looked genuinely confused. "We thought you'd be happy."

"Well, I wasn't."

My mom's eyes narrowed, but it was my dad who spoke. "Don't take that tone with your mother."

"Or what?" I asked. The words left my heart pounding in my chest. I could count on no hands how many times I'd talked back to my parents. They'd always seemed so larger than life to me. I didn't know what had happened in the last four weeks, but I felt different. They seemed different too. I thought it was that, for the first time, I recognized that I'd just been skating by. Sure, I'd put in work, but I'd never done work I didn't enjoy doing. Every day, I watched people struggling to make ends meet. All of the people that Armando supervised had stories: Fran with her three jobs to pay for her son's cancer treatment; Luke who took whatever overtime he could get and never said no to someone else in need; Willie who had been cut off from his family and had not been welcomed back with open arms after he'd gotten himself cleaned up. Then there was Armando himself, even though he never talked about it. No job was amazing 100% of the time, but they did what they needed to do for themselves and their families. They made me realize that I'd never done anything for myself and not in a good way. I'd complained about it, but I'd never done anything as my parents neatly laid out a plan for my life.

No more.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be rude. I appreciate everything you've done for me, but…" I let out my breath and looked at my dad. "I need to learn how to be independent. I'm graduating this year. I'll be making decisions about college and my future and I need to be the one to make those decisions. You can't do it for me anymore. And this is where I'm starting. I'm going to keep working with Denny, and Armando has agreed to let me stay through the summer and might be able to keep me on when school starts."

"Absolutely not. You have basketball-" My dad started. I was sure he had a whole thing prepared about how I was nothing without basketball (he wouldn't use those exact words, of course), but I didn't give him the chance to say anything.

"Lots of guys on the team play and hold down jobs," I interrupted. "I'll make it work."

"If your grades drop," my mom began.

"Then I'll deal with it. Maybe I won't be a straight-A student this year," I told them. "That's on me." I clutched my hands behind my back. "If you need me to go to a dinner or a party, I'll be there. But I'm done trying to impress you when you can't be impressed. I need to focus on me. So, yeah. That's what I wanted to say."

I backed out of the kitchen. For the first time in my life, I looked forward to figuring out who I wanted to be on my own terms.