“By the way, I think we just watched a life go out of the world,” he said. “For the list.”

I stopped with a gasp, just short of opening the trunk. “You’re right. We totally did. Nice.” I was smiling and I stopped myself. “I mean, not nice. Not for your sister.”

“It’s okay, Abby. I think she’ll be fine.”

I opened the trunk of my car and pulled back the soft cloth from over the painting.

Before I could lift out the canvas, Cooper stopped my hands. “Did you paint this?”

“Yes. I’m going to give it to your sister.”

“You can’t give this to my sister.”

“You don’t think she’ll like it?”

“I think she’ll love it, but you have to show this to Mr. Wallace. It’s amazing.”

“It’s good. But I can do better. This one is for Amelia.” Mr. Wallace wanted more feelings, but this one felt like too much feeling and not enough technique.

“When did you do this?”

“The other day, after I went to that fish spa.”

“This is what came of that? Now I wish I’d gone.”

“It was pretty awesome.” I picked up the painting.

“You really are just stalling, aren’t you? You don’t think this is good enough because you don’t want to show Mr. Wallace until you think you’ve reached perfection.”

“No, I don’t think it’s good enough because I didn’t feel right when I was painting it.”

“What does that mean?”

“You don’t know what feelings are?” I asked with a smirk.

“Funny.”

I held up the painting. “I still have sixteen days until he’s making final decisions. And three more experiences to try. If two more paintings don’t result, I’ll use this one. Don’t worry. I’m going to show him.”

“Good. Because I want this for you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Cooper nodded and took the painting from me, carrying it the rest of the way into his house.

Amelia loved it and made him hang it on the wall above her bed right that second. “Abby, you are the best. Thank you so much. This will remind me of Lindsay when I see it.”

“Good. I’m glad you like it.”

“She might have to borrow it back in a week to show the museum director for the showcase.”

“Of course,” Amelia said. “I’ll keep it safe in the meantime.”

The three of us stood back and stared at the painting like we were in our own art museum.

Cooper put his arm around my shoulder, still looking at the painting. “My little Abby is growing up.”

I rolled my eyes and pinched his side. “You always know how ruin a moment.”

“And here I thought I always knew how to make a moment even better.”

I sighed, but conceded. “You do.”

We left Amelia in her room with the painting and headed toward the kitchen. “Last night, you and Lacey seemed . . . ,” Cooper started.

“Seemed what?” I asked when he raided the pantry without continuing. He came out with a bag of Cheetos Puffs. “Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

He looked at the clock on the microwave. “It’s eleven. That’s nearly lunch.” He opened the bag. “Chummy.”

“Chummy? You mean cheesy?” I squinted to read the bright-blue print on the bag he held.

“No, you and Lacey seemed chummy.”

“Oh. Right.”

“When did that happen?”

“I don’t know. I like her. We talk a little.”

“I thought you said you weren’t friends with her.”

“Yeah, well, things change,” I said, repeating her line from the night before. I studied his expression—tight around the eyes but trying to play it off as uninterested. I threw my head back with a groan.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re jealous.”

“Yeah, maybe I am. You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

I swiped the bag of Cheetos from him and headed for the front door.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To paint. You’ve given me all sorts of emotions to work with.” Frustration being the main one. I had thought the night before that Cooper had been jealous of Elliot. But I was wrong. He was jealous of Lacey. That’s why he’d been acting strange. That was definitely a check in the absolutely nothing has changed box.

My phone buzzed in my pocket as I walked out the door. I pulled it out to read the text I already knew was from Cooper. If I must, I will challenge Lacey to a duel.

I’ll relay the message.

TWENTY-TWO

The next morning after waking up and getting dressed, I surveyed the pantry.

“Are you looking for your sugary cereal again?” Mom asked. “I think Grandpa ate it all.”

“No. I’m looking for a sketch pad.”

“In the pantry?”

“I already searched the rest of the house. It was my last hope.” I hadn’t sketched out my ideas in a long time, but when, despite my frustrations with Cooper, I was left staring at an empty canvas the day before, I knew I needed to try something different.

“I think I saw one. . . .” My mom stood up and went to a bin on the counter she put scrap paper and ads and coupons in. She dug through it and came up with a notebook.

“I know it’s not a sketchbook,” she said. “But will this work?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” I said, taking it from her.

“That’s my line,” Grandpa said. He’d just come in the sliding door from outside. He carried a watering can and a misshapen cucumber. “What are you begging for?”

I waved the notebook at him. “Nothing anymore. I’m going for a walk.”

“I don’t think . . . ,” my mom started.

“No,” I said, realizing she thought I was going to try to convince her to go with me. “Alone. I want to walk alone this time.”

“Oh.” My mom almost looked hurt. “Okay. Have fun.”

I glanced at my grandpa, who seemed just as confused by the interaction as I was. “Did you want to come?” I asked.

She shook her head, and her normal smile was back. “Not at all.”

“Tell Cooper we said hi,” Grandpa said as I headed for the door.

“Cooper is not going with me. I really am going alone!” I called back and let the door shut behind me. “I can be alone,” I grumbled, walking down the steps.

I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. I’d shoved a few charcoal pencils in the back pocket of my shorts and now pulled one out as I walked. I flipped to a clean page in the notebook, then waited to be inspired.

I had been walking for at least forty-five minutes, and all I’d doodled was a single bird that had been sitting on a fence. It wasn’t even a very good doodle. I was about ready to give up and head back home when across the street I saw Tree Man, chain and all.

I looked both ways, waited for a car to pass, then walked across. I approached him with a wave. “Hi. You’re still here.”