I smiled and pointed to my desk, which was closer to Cooper. “Can you hand me my laptop?”

He reached over and grabbed it, then set it on my legs. “What’s the news from your dad?”

“Not much. He doesn’t really tell me a lot of what’s happening over there in email for security reasons. So it’s mostly just him asking about me.”

“Does your dad like me? I can never tell when he’s home.”

“My dad likes you.”

“Good, because he’s a little scary.”

I laughed. “He’s harmless.”

I opened my laptop and typed a response, hoping he’d get it before they had to move their camp.

From your only daughter, who, if she found out others existed, would fight them to the death to maintain that title. Ha. Ha. Two laughs. One for the background-check idea and one for you pretending not to know Cooper’s name. Thanks for those. You know I like to laugh. As for an update, I’m crawling my way through Crime and Punishment and nearing the end. I tried dried crickets. I don’t recommend them, but they do taste decent with ice cream. Mr. Wallace is having me take a preschool group through the museum on Saturday, so that should be fun. And I decided to go on a date with Elliot No Last Name. I’m only telling you because I know Mom will. It’s not a big deal. Also, be safe!!! XOXO

Before I closed my laptop, I clicked on a saved tab at the top of the screen.

“You know,” Cooper said when the new page came up, “you could actually just send in an application instead of staring at that page every time you get on the computer . . . or your phone.”

“I will. I’m waiting to see how the showcase plays out though. I need a sale.”

Cooper jammed his finger onto my screen. “Recommended requirements. Last I checked the word recommended meant optional.”

“Lots of people apply for the winter program. I want to give myself every advantage.”

“Stalling,” Cooper coughed out.

“I am not.”

“We should finish the list so you can show Mr. Wallace your paintings and have no more excuses.”

I ignored his jab this time and said, “You’re right. Let’s do one of the ‘try something new’ items, since we have a couple of those left to do.” And saying that out loud reminded me of something. “Did you ever take Iris to that underground garden? That would count for you.”

“No, she didn’t want to do that. We ended up at the movie on the beach.”

“Hey, the beach movie is our thing.”

“I know. I’m sorry. She didn’t want to go to the gardens.”

I swallowed down my hurt. “What kind of monster are you going out with?”

He smacked me on the shoulder once with his book, then opened it. I opened my book as well, then let my left hand fall against his right arm and rest there. When he took twice as long to turn the page of his book one-handed, rather than move his arm, I smiled, but like always, didn’t let myself read into it too much.

Cooper left close to ten, and I went to Mom’s room, where she was hanging clothes.

“Hey,” I said. “I have a complaint to file.”

“Listening,” she said.

“How come when Cooper and Dad are around, you have no problem walking to the park, but when it’s just us, you can’t?”

She paused with a shirt halfway on its hanger and scrunched up her nose. “I go out a lot with just you.”

“But more when they are here.”

“I don’t know. They both have a relaxed way about them. It rubs off on me, I guess.”

“But I don’t?”

“You do, hon.”

I crossed my arms. “Apparently I’m not the only one attached to Cooper.”

“He is a nice boy. I have no issues with him, aside from the fact that he likes to drag my daughter’s heart around.”

“I’m the one attaching my heart to his leash.”

She gave me a thin-lipped smile but didn’t argue.

“I’m working on it,” I said.

“That’s good.”

I watched her add more shirts to hangers and stack them on her bed. I was constantly trying to downplay the fact that Mom didn’t go anywhere to Grandpa and Cooper and Dad. Convince them that she could have a fulfilling life without venturing beyond the four walls of our house. That it wasn’t a big deal. And maybe it wasn’t, but I was beginning to realize that sometimes it wasn’t about her. If I were being honest with myself, I knew that sometimes it was about me. I could remember only a handful of my events she’d attended in the past, and only because my dad was there.

“What?” she asked when she noticed me still standing there.

I sighed and lowered myself onto her bed. “Mom.”

She turned, giving me her full attention.

I played with a hanger on the stack of clothes, nervous about what I was about to say. “If I complete this list and somehow gain a depth of emotion that makes me paint like Picasso, will you come to the gallery to see my paintings on display?”

She hesitated, and disappointment hovered around me.

I should’ve just dropped it, said never mind. But that painting I’d done with her just outside the spotlight, watching me audition, gave me a vision of what it could be like seeing her at the art show, so I pushed on. “Dad can’t come, being gone and all. But Cooper will be there, and Grandpa. It will be like having your own bubble of protection. You’ll be surrounded by familiar, relaxed people.”

She pressed her lips together, and I could see the tension on her face, but she said, “Yes, honey. I would love to see your display.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

I smiled big and jumped up to give her a hug. “Now I just have to get Mr. Wallace to let me in the show.”

“He will, my brilliant daughter,” she said rubbing my back. “He will.”

EIGHTEEN

There’s this place downtown where you can sit with your feet in water and little fish come and eat the dead skin off your toes.

And you’re telling me this, why? Cooper responded.

The list. Trying something new. I needed a new painting stat, and I couldn’t think of anything. It was time to force myself to think way outside the box.

My sister has a goldfish. You can stick your foot in its bowl if this sounds like fun to you.

Nope. Fish spa.

Sounds lame.

I don’t hear you coming up with any ideas.

My brain is still thinking.

Well I’m going to try this anyway. With or without you. I still have three more new things to try, right?

Without me.

Are you scared of fish? Wouldn’t I know this if he were? But I didn’t know. Maybe I’d found his fear and I’d force him to do this with me.

No. I’m not.

Come with me, you punk.

Race today. Must mentally prepare myself to be even more awesome than I already am.

Fine.

I’ll see you at my race.

“I’m going to the fish spa,” I declared as I entered the living room. Grandpa and Mom were sitting on the couch. Grandpa had the television on. Mom had her laptop open. “Who’s coming with me?”