“I don’t know. Maybe? She seems to worry about the stuff she reads and hears more than most people.”

“I know. Maybe it would make things better. If she’d just stay off the internet and away from nonfiction books.” Maybe I could suggest that to my grandpa. Then we wouldn’t have to take the dramatic step of a therapist. “I think she takes everything she learns, then frets about it until it turns into an irrational fear.”

The car slowed, and Cooper squinted out the windshield. I followed his gaze to the right, where a big tree stood in the middle of an otherwise empty field. A man was leaning against the tree. No, not leaning. He was chained to it.

“Stop the car,” I said to Cooper.

He pulled to a stop along the curb and I rolled down my window.

“Sir? Are you okay?”

The man’s gaze had been on the dirt in front of him, and with my yell, he looked up.

“You weren’t assaulted by chain-wielding thieves, were you?” I asked.

Cooper laughed from beside me.

“No,” he yelled back. “I’ve done this to myself.”

“On purpose?”

His smile widened. “A housing development is going in this field, and they want to rip out this tree.”

“Oh. I see. You’re protecting it.”

“Yes.”

“Good luck!”

He lifted his hand in a wave, and Cooper drove away.

“Would you rather live in the treetops forever or in water?” Cooper asked.

“Waterworld for sure. If I can breathe underwater. Can I breathe underwater?”

“Sure. But then we need an adaptation for the treetops too. What would that adaptation be?”

“Monkey arms?”

“I can see why you’d choose mermaid, if the alternative is monkey.”

I smiled and stole one of his fries.

His face went serious. “Don’t eat my fries, Abby. You said you didn’t want any fries, and I said, you’re going to steal mine if you don’t get your own, and you said, no I won’t.”

“Are you reenacting a conversation that happened five minutes ago?”

“Yes, because you seem to have forgotten it.”

“It’s my charge for holding your greasy bag.”

He snatched the bag off my lap and put it on his left leg as he drove.

“You’re no fun,” I said.

“I am the most fun.” He took a fry out of the bag and ate it.

“Speaking of, did you talk to Rachel yesterday?”

“Yes, but why is that speaking of? Are you trying to claim Rachel is the most fun?”

“No, I am the most fun. It was speaking of because it sounded like she was having fun.”

“Yes, she sounded good. Did she tell you about the four-amigo Europe trip for next summer, after we graduate?”

“Did she call it that? The four-amigo? She made fun of me for saying that!”

He laughed. “Our end-of-summer reunion with them is going to be awesome.”

When we got to my house, I made sure I put some space between myself and Cooper and his bag of poison.

“I see how you are. You’ll eat it in the car but won’t admit it to your mom.”

“I know where my loyalties lie.”

But my mom didn’t say anything. She just eyed his bag once when we walked in, then asked what we were up to.

“We are going to go finish our classics so we can finally check that item off the list.”

“But first I am going to fill my stomach with garbage, Mrs. Turner. And I will need to walk it off. You want to go on a walk with us in ten minutes?”

His offer surprised me. We hadn’t talked about doing that. He just knew I was worried about her.

“I think I do, Cooper.”

He stuck a fry in his mouth, and when my mom went back to her book, I mouthed, thank you.

He winked at me.

After we made it to the park and back with zero resistance from my mom, she insisted on showing Cooper my now-finished sunrise painting, like it was a priceless masterpiece. Maybe this was part of my problem. The people around me thought my paintings were much better than they were. They’d given me false confidence all these years.

Against the side wall, with soft cotton covering draped over them, were the spotlight and quad paintings. I thought about showing off those too, but I didn’t. I’d save some surprises for them to see if I made it into the show.

After the sunrise painting was thoroughly analyzed, Cooper and I went to my room.

“That painting is really good, Abs.”

“Thanks.”

“Why do you sound like you don’t believe me?”

“Because Mr. Wallace said he was willing to take a second look at my paintings, and I feel like they have to be a hundred times better than the last ones he saw. I don’t know if they’re there yet.” I threw him his book, which he’d left on my desk when he first arrived at my house before our fast-food run, and I pulled mine out of the top drawer of my nightstand and settled onto my bed. If I could finish this book today, then I wouldn’t have to worry about checking off another item for a couple of days. “I just need to finish the list.”

“The magical list.” Cooper made his way over to it and studied it for several minutes. “Why did you already check off ‘have your heart broken’?”

My heart seemed to stop in my chest with that question. We had successfully avoided this subject for a year. Did I really want to bring it up now? I kept my gaze steady on him even though I wanted to look away. “Because I have.”

Cooper’s eyes shot to the ground, then met mine again. He knew. “Why did you write it on here to begin with then?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Since I’d already accomplished it, I wrote it down. I wanted to feel like I had at least a little depth, I guess.”

He nodded slowly. We were going to move past this quickly. Continue to ignore what had happened a year ago. I could tell. I could linger. Say something. But I’d already done that once. If his feelings were different than they had been a year ago, it was his turn to put them out there.

“What about you? Can you check ‘have your heart broken’ off your list?” I honestly didn’t know the answer to that question. I’d been a witness to pretty much all of his relationships, but I had no idea if he’d ever truly been in love with a girl before. He’d never told me he had, so I assumed he hadn’t.

“No. I can’t,” he said. I was surprised by the relief that coursed through my body.

He jumped onto my bed next to me, back first, and opened up his book.

My phone buzzed with a new email. I pulled it up. Nobody emailed me except my dad, so I wasn’t surprised to see his name in my inbox.

“Your dad?” Cooper asked, peering over the top of his book at me.

“Yeah.” I read the email to myself.

To my daughter, who is better than any of my other daughters at emailing me. From her dad, who couldn’t get to a computer for a few days.

Why haven’t I made you watch the sunrise before? Have you ever tried waking yourself up at five a.m.? That’s your answer. I’m glad I don’t have to ask twenty questions about Elliot, because I can’t think of twenty questions to ask. Well, except tell me his last name so I can run a background check. What about that other boy in your life? What’s his name? Your mom says he still comes around a lot. I hope he’s treating you nice. We’re going to be busy here for the next couple of weeks moving locations. Sorry in advance if I can’t email/call as often as normal. It sounds like you’re keeping yourself busy with your list. Make sure you update me, I like to hear about your adventures.