I agree with him on that. It’s a disaster of a mess. One I still haven’t even wrapped my head around fully. It’s too much to think about so soon and too much for me to want to discuss it right now. I change the subject, because either way, decisions aren’t being made tonight.

“Clara’s birthday is in two weeks. I’m thinking about keeping the tradition going with a cookout, but I’m not sure if she would want me to. It won’t be the same without them here.”

“You should ask her,” Jonah suggests.

I laugh half-heartedly. “We aren’t on the best terms right now. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around her. She’d disagree with anything I suggested.”

“She’s almost seventeen. It would be more out of the ordinary if things were perfect between the two of you.”

I appreciate him saying that, but I also know it’s not entirely true. I know a lot of mothers who get along just fine with their teenagers. I’m just not one of the lucky ones. Or maybe it isn’t about luck. Maybe I went wrong somewhere along the way.

“I can’t believe she’s about to be seventeen,” he says. “I remember the day you found out you were pregnant with her.”

I remember it too. It was the day before he left.

I divert my gaze to the concrete beneath my feet. Looking at him brings back too many emotions, and I’m really sick of emotions at this point. I clear my throat and take a step back, just as headlights brighten the yard around us. I look up and watch as Clara finally pulls into the driveway.

Jonah takes that as his cue to leave, so he opens his car door. “Good night, Morgan.” He waves at Clara before getting into his car. I give him a silent wave and watch him drive away. He’s already at the end of our street before Clara gets out of her car.

I fold my arms over my chest again and stare at her expectantly.

She shuts her door and acknowledges me with a nod but walks toward the front door. I follow her inside the house, where she kicks her shoes off by the couch. “What was that?” she asks.

“What was what?”

She tosses a hand toward the front yard. “You and Jonah. In the dark. It was weird.”

I narrow my eyes at her, wondering if she’s just trying to deflect right now. “Why are you late for curfew?”

She looks down at her phone. “I am?”

“Yes. I texted you. Twice.”

She swipes her finger across the screen. “Oh. I didn’t hear them come through.” She slips her phone in her back pocket. “Sorry. I was studying at Starbucks . . . lost track of time. I didn’t realize it was so late.” She points over her shoulder as she backs toward the hallway. “I need to shower.”

I don’t even bother pushing for a more honest answer. She wouldn’t give me one anyway.

I walk to the kitchen and grab a Jolly Rancher. I lean against the counter and stare absentmindedly at the hole in my kitchen door, wondering why Jonah so casually brought up the day I found out I was pregnant, like it wasn’t one of the worst days of my life.

Maybe he brought it up because his leaving the next day didn’t mean as much to him as it did to the rest of us.

I’ve forced myself not to think about that week since it happened, but now that Jonah brought it up, every moment of that day begins running through my mind.

We were at the lake. The three of them had been swimming, and I was sitting on a blanket in the grass, reading a book. They all came out of the water at the same time, but Jonah was the only one who walked in my direction. Chris and Jenny ran up the embankment toward the playground.

“Morgan!” Jenny yelled. “Come swing with us!” She was running backward up the hill, trying to entice me over.

I shook my head and waved her on. I wasn’t in the mind-set to be playful that day. I hadn’t even wanted to go to the lake in the first place, but Chris insisted on it. I wanted a night alone with him, without Jonah and Jenny tagging along. I needed to talk to him in private, but we hadn’t had a single second of privacy that day. Sometimes he was oblivious to my moods, even though I had certainly been in a mood since realizing I was late for my period last night.

“What’s eating you today?” Jonah said as he dropped onto the grass next to me. “You’ve been acting strange.”

I almost laughed at his timing. “Did Chris send you over to fish it out of me?”

Jonah stared at me like I had somehow insulted him. “Chris lives in blissful oblivion.”

Jonah’s response surprised me. I noticed he had been making jabs at Chris. Little ones. Harmless ones. But I noticed. “I thought you guys were supposed to be best friends.”

“We are,” Jonah said. “I’d do anything for him.”

“Sometimes you act like you don’t even like him.”

Jonah didn’t deny it. Instead, he gave his attention to the lake in front of us, like my comment forced him into contemplation.

I picked up a pebble and threw it toward the lake. It didn’t even hit the water.

“We’re out of drinks,” Chris said, jogging up to us. He dropped onto the grass dramatically and pulled me to him. He kissed me. “I’m gonna run to the store. Wanna come?”

I was relieved to finally get some alone time with him. We had a lot to talk about. “Sure.”

“I have to pee,” Jenny said. “I’m coming too.”

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes, but every time I thought I might get one minute alone to talk to Chris about what was going on with me, something or someone inserted themselves into our scene. “Take Jenny,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll wait here.”

“You sure?” Chris asked as he hopped to his feet.

I nodded. “Better hurry—she’s already racing you up the hill.”

Chris looked behind him and then took off in a sprint. “Cheater!”

I turned back around and looked at Jonah, who was sharing the blanket with me, his knees pulled up, his arms resting on them. He was staring out at the lake. I could sense something was brewing in him.

“What’s eating you today?” I said, repeating his own question.

His eyes cut to mine. “Nothing.”

“It’s something,” I said.

The look he gave me in that moment was heart stopping. It was the same feeling I was starting to get every time he looked at me—like it had somehow reached past my eyes and slid down my spine.

The reflection of the lake in front of us made his eyes look liquefied. The realization started to grow on me that I was staring back at him much the same way, so I ripped my gaze from his.

Jonah sighed heavily and then whispered, “I’m worried we got it wrong.”

His statement made my breath hitch. I didn’t ask him what we might have gotten wrong because I was too scared of his answer.

I was scared he was going to say we weren’t with the person we were meant to be with. Of course, he could have been about to say anything, but that’s where my mind went, because why else did he look at me the way he looked at me sometimes? I tried to ignore it because Jonah and I had never been romantic in any sense. But we had a connection—one Chris and I didn’t even have.

I hated it. I hated that Jonah always knew when something was bothering me, but Chris was clueless. I hated that Jonah and I could give each other a look and know exactly what the other was thinking. I hated how he always saved the watermelon Jolly Ranchers for me because it was a sweet gesture, and I didn’t like that my boyfriend’s best friend did sweet things for me. Besides, he and Jenny had just started dating. Unlike Jenny, I never would have betrayed my own sister.