I wait until they drive away before heading to Masselin’s, where I’m in such a good mood that I’m civil to my dad. It stings a little to see how surprised he is by this, so I go one step further and talk to him about the robot I’m building for Dusty. It’s going to be as tall as Dusty, maybe taller. It’s going to talk. It’s going to be the best damn robot ever.

To his credit, my dad is polite and asks questions. We don’t mention Monica Chapman. We don’t mention the email. And for a minute I think, Maybe this is where we stay. Right here in this small radius where it’s safe. Maybe we can just stay right here, safe like this, forever.

Two hours later, when I get back in the Land Rover, it still smells like her. Sunshine.

After dinner, my dad and I watch TV with George. Dad is eating grapes one at a time, tipping his head back and throwing them into the air, catching them with his mouth as George swats at them. I lean my head back and catch one in my own mouth. I savor it the way I’m supposed to savor food that’s good for me. I bite it a little, and it bursts into an eruption of goodness.

I was on fire today. I lit up the old gym. You should have seen me! I’m making up for every lost moment when I couldn’t move or get out of bed. The dance is in me! Just wait till they see me at the Damsels audition. I’m going to nail it. I’m going to dance my heart out for all the world to see.

“The Masselin boy. Everything okay there? Is he leaving you alone?”

“He’s not bothering me.” Not in that way, at least.

“Libbs, you know you can talk to me about anything.”

And I feel myself going bright red. What if my dad can read my thoughts? What if he can see how I am, at this exact moment, undressing Jack Masselin while I eat these grapes?

“I know, Dad.”

For the first time in my life, I don’t want to talk to him. Not about Jack and not about the letters. If I do, I become something he has to worry about, and I’ve already been something he has to worry about for too long.

“I’m thinking of ditching school on October first.” One of the things my dad made me promise after my mom died was that I would always let him know where I was, and I figure I can at least tell him this much. “A friend of mine needs to go to Indiana University to take part in a research study.”

“Who’s this friend?”

“Just someone from school.” I don’t tell him it’s Jack. I figure it’s enough that I’m sitting here telling my father I want to skip school. “He’s going through some things right now. I want to be there for him.”

“Do you have any tests that day? Anything big that you’d be missing?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Is this a … is it a …”

“Date? No.”

I don’t think so. I mean, it isn’t. But it makes me wonder: Could it turn into one?

“No,” I say again. “It was my idea to go.”

I almost say, I’m thinking about getting tested too. I know we talked about it after Mom died, but now that I’m older I think I might want to. Maybe that way I won’t worry as much. I throw myself a grape and miss my mouth. Or maybe I’ll worry more, depending on what I find out. I pick the grape off my shirt, and then frown at the shirt. “Do you think we could go shopping?”

He raises an eyebrow. “For your non-date?”

“You wouldn’t actually have to go. You could just let me borrow money. Or I could get a job.”

“No jobs. Not right now. One thing at a time.”

“So can I borrow some money, then?”

“You realize you’ve just asked me if you can skip school and borrow money in the same conversation? You realize I’m the world’s best dad?”

“I do.”

He tilts his head back and I throw him a grape. I throw George a grape and he smacks it across the room. I throw myself a grape and this time I catch it like a pro.

In my room, I pick up my phone and settle back against the headboard. I call Bailey because this is what real friends who aren’t imaginary do. When she answers, I say, “What do you think of Jack Masselin?”

“As a person or as a guy?”

“Both.”

“I think he’s basically a good person who sometimes lacks judgment. As a guy, I think he’s cute and funny, and he knows it, but he’s not as jerky as a lot of them. Why?”

“Oh, I’m just wondering.”

“I’m not telling you how to feel, Libbs, but he and Caroline are one of those forever couples. I mean, even when they’re not together, they’re together, and if it was me, I wouldn’t want to go near him. You’d just set yourself up for heartbreak.”

“I’m not saying I’m interested.”

But am I?

I change the subject to Terri Collins and the Damsels, and Bailey tells me about this boy she likes who lives in New Castle. We talk for a while, and afterward I go on Iris’s Instagram account, where I like every single one of her most recent posts. I choose one randomly and comment on it, and I almost leave it at that. But then I decide to call her. I go straight to voice mail and leave a rambling apology. She calls me back immediately, and even though I don’t want to, I answer because I am not an island.

At home, I find Mom-with-Hair-Up in her study, deep in work, law books open, laptop humming. I rap on the door. “Oldest son, reporting for duty.”

She gives me a Mom look. “Did you manage to make it through the day without assaulting anyone or having to see the principal?”