The graveside service itself was surprisingly uneventful. Hot, a bit depressing, but uneventful. Now we were at Mrs. Lawson’s house. I stood in the middle of the crowded living room all alone. Micah and Andrew had driven over with me, but now I couldn’t find them and I was ready to go home.

“Soph.” There was a tap on my arm and I turned to see Kyle.

“Hey, you’re here.” I swore I said those words to him more often than normal. Was it weird that I was always surprised to see him somewhere? “I mean, I didn’t see you at the church.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t there. Had band practice.” He nodded his head to Jodi, who was at the table filling up a plate with food. I didn’t see Bryce or Lincoln, though. “Are you here alone?” Kyle asked me.

“No. I’m here with … friends,” I said. It would be nice if those friends showed up now so I didn’t seem so pathetic, but apparently Andrew only appeared when I didn’t want him to.

“Cool,” Kyle said. “I’m going to go get some food.”

“Okay. Have fun.” Have fun?

He gave me a slow smile and joined Jodi at the food table.

We’d been out three times. Interactions shouldn’t still be so awkward. I wound my way through the crowd and out to the back patio. It was empty except for two couches and a porch swing. I opted for the porch swing.

Minutes later, Andrew walked outside with a plate of food. Of course he’d show up now.

“For one second I was wondering why everyone was packed inside and nobody was out here,” Andrew said. “But then I was suffocated by the air and understood perfectly.”

“Yeah, it’s hot,” I agreed.

He sat down next to me, the swing jostling a little.

“Where’s Micah?” I asked.

“I saw her talking to Lance,” he said.

“Oh, okay.”

“They like each other, right?” Andrew said. “Tell me I’m not the only one who sees that.”

I laughed a little, glad I wasn’t the only one who thought that. “They already dated once. You know how stubborn Micah is. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”

“I may have mentioned it a couple of times, but you’re right, she shuts me down.” He looked at his food. “So, etiquette coach, what is the appropriate amount of time to stay at a funeral reception?”

“We have done our duty. We just need to get Micah.”

“Maybe we should give her a minute, considering who she’s talking to.” He took a bite of ambrosia salad. “What is this?” he asked through his mouthful.

“Dessert pretending to be healthy.”

He nodded. “What are the little chunks?”

I looked at what remained on his plate. “I don’t know. Probably coconut?”

He scooped up a bite and held it out for me. “That is not coconut. Try it.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I ate the salad off his fork, let it sit in my mouth for a moment, then said, “Cherries? Is that what you’re tasting?”

“Ah. That’s probably it. I’m not a maraschino cherry fan.”

“That’s one of those things people are either passionate about or loathe. Like cilantro.”

“Or pecan pie,” he said.

“Pecan pie?” I asked. “There is no debate about pecan pie. And if there is, then you haven’t tried …” I trailed off, about to sound like a small-town girl again.

“Whose pecan pie do I need to try?”

“Never mind. You don’t know her.”

He nodded slowly. Then, despite his claimed hatred of maraschino cherries, he continued to eat the salad. “Do you believe in an afterlife?”

“From pecan pie to the afterlife? That’s quite a jump.”

“Funerals.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you believe in an afterlife? Or yes, funerals?”

“Yes, I believe in an afterlife.” I paused and looked up at the clouds. “I’m not sure exactly what it will consist of, but I believe we all have a soul, something that makes us who we are. When my gran died, I remember looking at her body and knowing something was missing, that she was no longer her.” I gave him a sideways glance. “What about you?”

“I agree.”

“Wow, something we agree on,” I said.

“I know, weird.” He tapped his foot a few times on a nail that was jutting out of the wooden railing around the porch. “Is that why you got upset today? Because this reminded you of your grandmother’s funeral?”

“There it is,” I said. “I knew you couldn’t resist analyzing me.”

“I just need this last little puzzle piece and then I’ll have you all figured out.” I could tell he was kidding but I wondered for a small moment if there was a hint of truth in there—if he really did think he’d figured me all out. Maybe he could provide me with a list because I was feeling a bit undefined lately.

“Let’s find Micah so we can leave,” I said.

“Something else we can agree on.” Andrew took one more bite of food and we stood. He dumped his plate in a metal trash can by the back door and we went inside. The cool air-conditioning immediately brought relief, but the noise level inside was intense. We stayed together, searching the living room, the halls, the bedrooms. I even knocked on the bathroom door, but it was not Micah who responded.

“I left my phone in the van,” I said to Andrew. “Do you have yours?”

“I left mine in the van too, since at the cemetery you told us that was the polite thing to do.”

I sighed. “I did, didn’t I? I guess I am your etiquette coach.”

“Country-living etiquette. I’ll return the favor if you ever come to New York.”

I clenched my jaw and headed for the front door. I didn’t need a lesson on city etiquette. I had common sense, unlike him.

I’d parked down the street so I hurried there ahead of Andrew. I noticed Kyle’s car before I saw him in it. The Mustang was parked behind the flower van and I saw some movement inside. The engine was running. Was he waiting for me?

But when I approached the passenger side, it was apparent that Kyle wasn’t in there alone. Jodi was in the passenger seat, and they were kissing. I gasped just as Andrew came up beside me.

Kyle must’ve heard or sensed something because he stopped kissing Jodi. He looked over, saw me, and gave a head nod. I didn’t wait to see what came after that head nod. Jodi was already starting to turn around. With my cheeks flushed, I fled up the road, past the flower van, car keys clutched tightly in my hand.

Andrew caught up with me. “Hey, you okay?”

“What? Why wouldn’t I be?” I didn’t mean to snap at him, but I did.

“That was Kyle. I thought you and he … ?”

“What? Yeah, no, it doesn’t matter. We weren’t … I didn’t even …” Like him was how I was going to finish that sentence. And I knew that was true, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t hurt and that was hard to explain. I didn’t want to explain. “It’s a funeral” was how I finished instead.

“People mourn differently?” Andrew offered, repeating Micah’s sentiment.

There was a neighborhood park at the end of the street and I cut right, heading across the grass toward the big slide tower. I climbed the steps and sat at the very top, leaning my back against the blue metal bars. Andrew followed and sat opposite me, our legs stretched out alongside each other. The platform was smaller than I’d anticipated.

“I forgot to get my phone,” I said.

“Me too.”

I slipped off my shoes and pressed my toes into the bars next to him.

“So,” Andrew said, “you’re definitely moving Kyle to the undatable column of Micah’s spreadsheet, right?”

I laughed a little and rolled my eyes. “You think I’m upset. You think I had something with Kyle?”

“I think you did.”

“We didn’t. Not really,” I said. “And there is no actual spreadsheet, you know that, right?” I blew out a breath between my lips. “It honestly doesn’t matter. We start school in a couple of weeks. It’s senior year and then as soon as that’s done, I’m leaving.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I wiped at some flakes of blue paint that were chipping off the metal bars, trying to act like I was perfectly fine. Because I really wanted to be. I should be. I was.

“You’re not going to miss it here?” Andrew finally asked.

I brushed my hands together. “I’ll miss Micah. But she wants to stay, work with her dad. I’ll come back and visit tons. My brother lives here.”

“And your mom.”

“Right … and her.”

“You won’t miss her?”

“I love my mom.”

Andrew nodded. “Your mom’s not so bad.”

“We’re just very different.”

“True.” He smiled at me. “So … senior year.”

“I know. Yours too. But … how is that when you do independent study? Are you still as excited?”

“For school to be over? Yes.”

“I guess that’s true. But I don’t know, there’s something about being on a school campus and being the oldest and … I don’t know.”

“I get it. It’s a rite of passage. One I’ll miss.” He was quiet for a minute, then said, “I’ve thought about going back to school for my senior year.”

“But … ?”

“But then we move.”

“Right.”

“Right.” He bumped his knee into mine and, for the second time in the conversation, changed the subject. “Do you realize I’ve only ever seen you wear skirts? Do you own a pair of jeans?”

“You only ever see me at events.”

“There was that one time Micah and I saw you at the movies.”

I nodded, remembering our brief interaction; I’d been taking Gunnar to see the latest superhero flick and had bumped into Micah and Andrew in the lobby.

“Was I wearing a skirt?” I asked.

“You were.”

“Huh. Good thing I have killer legs,” I said, lifting one up.

“You do.” His eyes went to my foot and narrowed in on something there. “It made a pretty good scar.”

“Excuse me?”

He grabbed my foot and ran a finger along the middle. “The glass.”

I pulled my foot away as a zing went up my leg. “You’ve touched my feet entirely more than anyone should have to.”

“Very true.”

“Hello! Are you guys over here?” Micah yelled out. She was standing at the entrance to the parking lot, waving. “Let’s go home!”

I reached forward to grab my shoes and Andrew must’ve leaned forward to stand up because suddenly we were shoulder to shoulder, his face inches from mine.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “Go ahead.”

I stood quickly. “We’re up here!”

Micah ran up the stairs to the slide, then plopped down between us, pulling us both back down to sitting with her. There definitely wasn’t room for all three of us.

“What have you been up to?” Andrew asked in a teasing voice.

“Oh, you know …” Micah said. “I ran into Joseph.”

“Joseph?” I asked in surprise. “Andrew said you were talking to Lance.”

“I was, but then Joseph came and we had a nice talk.”

I sighed in frustration. “You just need to give Lance another chance already,” I said.

Micah’s brows dipped down. “What? Why would I do that? We’re not … I’m not … Lance wants to go away to college,” she said matter-of-factly.

“And?” I asked.

“And long-distance relationships never work.” She looked between Andrew and me as if that statement was for us. She really was delusional if she thought that applied to us. “What have you guys been doing?” she asked.

Andrew looked at me, a challenge in his eyes. He probably wanted me to tell Micah what had just happened with Kyle and Jodi. But I didn’t want to talk about it anymore than I already had. It was over.

“Sophie needs to bare her soul,” Andrew said.

“I do not.” I didn’t appreciate his prying. I met his challenging glare, grabbed hold of the bar above the twirly slide, and sent myself sliding down.

Micah laughed and followed after me. Andrew took the stairs. Micah hooked one arm in Andrew’s elbow and one in mine as we headed back toward the van.

“I didn’t get to try your dad’s salad today,” Micah told Andrew. “It was gone by the time I went to get a plate.”

“It’s a good salad,” Andrew responded.

“Plus, like four people brought hash-brown casserole,” I said. “So there wasn’t much variety.”

A sleek black car that had become familiar to me by now screeched around the corner and stopped next to us on the street. Jett Hart climbed out of it and slammed the door behind him, fire in his eyes.