“No. This is a no-technology moment.”

His hand that had reached around my back to tickle me was still there, now resting on my hip.

I closed my eyes for a second and concentrated on pushing feelings down. I’d gotten so good at it this last year it was almost second nature.

“I’m going to take Ris out tomorrow night. Where should I take her?”

My eyes flew open. “Who?”

“Um. You know, that girl I’ve been texting.” He took his arm back, resting it on his knee.

“Right. Ris. Yes, I knew that. I thought you were going to take her to Lacey’s party.”

“I am. But I mean like a real date.”

“Aren’t we going to the movie on the beach tomorrow night?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot about that. We’ll go next time for sure.”

“For sure.” I wasn’t disappointed, I told myself. This helped even more with that feeling-smashing thing.

“So where should I take her?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know her.”

“I know, but where do girls like to go on dates?”

“You’re the one who takes girls out, not me.”

He huffed. “But you are a girl.”

“I am? Thank goodness I have you to tell me these things.”

He squeezed my knee. “Be serious. Help me.”

I thought back to dates I’d had over the years. They were all pretty basic—movies, dinner, beach. “I don’t know. I don’t go out much.”

“Well, think about it for a minute. Your perfect date. Where would you like a guy to take you?”

A perfect date was different from one that had actually happened. A perfect date required imagination. “My grandpa said there’s this amazing underground garden somewhere close. I think that would be cool.” For me, at least. Things like that gave me inspiration to paint.

“Good idea. I’ve heard about that too. I’m surprised you haven’t been to it.”

“I know. Me too. We’re always busy doing other things.” I turned back toward the view in front of us. “Oh! Shhh. Look. Here it comes.” I gestured toward the mountain in the distance with my head.

“We have to be quiet while it rises?” he whispered.

“Shhh.” For some reason I did want to watch it in silence. He seemed to sense I was serious, because he didn’t say another word, and we both sat, taking it in. The rays came first, stretching across a section of the mountain, making it look like it had caught fire. And then slowly, one millimeter at a time, the sun showed itself. It looked smaller than I thought it would, but the higher it rose, the brighter the sky became. For the first time since we’d arrived I heard birds chirping above us. I had never watched the world come alive like this before. It was gorgeous how something could go from dreary, cold, and gray to full of light in such a short amount of time. I breathed in the air, which was still cold, despite how warm the sky looked.

Beside me, I could feel Cooper draw his breaths too. And with each of those breaths, my body leaned in until my cheek rested on his shoulder.

“How much longer are we staying?” Cooper asked when the sun was well above the mountain.

“I thought we’d stay for a week.”

“Only if we get more doughnuts.” He set the bag with my doughnut inside on the ground in front of me. “This doesn’t mean you’re a morning person now, does it?”

“No way. But I’m glad we did this.”

“Me too.” He looked at me, our faces so close together I could see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes.

“Let’s go,” Cooper said, jostling me as he stood up.

“Yes. Let’s go. . . .”

FOURTEEN

“Here’s those dried crickets.” Grandpa held the small, clear bag up in my doorway. “You left them in with the other groceries.”

“Oh. Right. I’m trying to forget I thought they were a good idea.”

“Crickets are always a good idea.” He set them on the end of my bed, then left.

It had been three days since the early-morning sunrise outing. Since then, I had visited a soup kitchen and helped serve dinner, for the service experience on my list. It was both fulfilling and depressing. I didn’t like to imagine children without food, but it was hard to deny it when they stood in that line waiting for a ladle full of the chicken-noodle soup I had served. I wished I had thought to do something like that on my own, without a list forcing me to. I signed a volunteer form when I left and let the director know she could call me when they were shorthanded.

I’d gone to the shelter without Cooper. In fact, I hadn’t seen Cooper since watching the sunrise. I tried not to think about why. Had he taken Ris out? Was he spending every spare minute with her since then?

Hey, if you’re still doing the list with me, you need to find a service experience. I did mine yesterday.

Done and done. I’m doing service right now. My dad volunteered me to paint some guy’s house. Paint. A house. Painting is your thing.

Oh. So it wasn’t Ris that was keeping him busy. He actually had a real excuse. That shouldn’t have made me so relieved. Not that kind of painting.

I’m on day three here.

I texted back: So can we add painting to your skill set now?

Of course. I’m awesome, but that’s beside the point. The point is that I’m tired and sore and want to be done.

You’re not done yet?!

I think we’ll finish up today.

Nice.

First some crazy whack job got me up at four thirty, and then my dad’s been waking me up at six. Not cool. When this is over I will soak in an ice bath and sleep for a week, followed by my best friend giving me a massage.

Justin’s home?

Funny.

I would not be giving Cooper a massage. That would send me into major relapse. It was hard enough looking at his body. I didn’t need to feel it as well.

Four thirty in the morning. You owe me.

That’s why I brought you doughnuts. I owe you nothing.

He sent me back the pile of poop emoji and I laughed.

I pocketed my phone and made my way back to my art room. I’d set up a canvas yesterday before work, and it still sat on its easel, only a coat of white primer to show for my time. I had been avoiding it. My initial thought was to paint the sunrise. I had pulled out all my warm colors—reds and oranges and yellows—and they still sat on the dresser waiting for me. But as I looked at them, it seemed like such a literal interpretation. I remembered how cold that morning had been. How it smelled like pine and made my nose numb. How the birds hadn’t come alive until the sun was sitting on the mountain. I remembered the feeling of life being awakened a little bit at a time. Awakened.

I took out more tubes of paint—gray and black and silver. At the bottom of the canvas, I started with cool colors. I drew rusty dried leaves and black bare trees and silver sleeping birds. As I moved up the canvas I added more colors and more life until I reached the tops, where the birds burst out from the green mountain, their flight mimicking the rays of the sun, the sky behind them bright and yellow.

“Wow.”

“I thought I taught you not to sneak up on me when I’m painting. That could’ve sent my brush across the canvas.” I’d managed not to jump. Barely. Cooper was normally a quiet observer until he saw me back away from the canvas.