The morning of Rob’s court appearance, I knock on his door before I have to leave for school.

“Are you wearing pants?” I ask. “Is it safe to come in?”

“What day of the week is it?” Rob asks.

“Monday,” I say.

“Oh, okay. Not a no-pants day. You’re safe.”

When I go in, he’s dressed in a dark suit, and he’s shaved and looks like he could be going to a job interview—or a funeral.

“Looking good,” I tell him.

“Do I look like someone you’d want to cut a plea deal with?”

“Definitely. But I’m kind of biased.”

“I just hope the prosecutor isn’t,” Rob says.

“You’ve got character references from half of the Argleton American Legion post and your commanding officer. That’s got to count for something, right?”

“Let’s hope.”

I take a few steps and throw my arms around him. “Good luck,” I say. “And if you end up behind bars, I promise to bake you a cake with a file in it.”

“Can you make that a cell phone and some wire cutters instead?” he jokes. “Files are so last century.”

“Deal,” I say.

“Anyway, this is just a hearing. If they won’t agree to a plea bargain, it’ll be a while till the trial, which means this will all just be hanging over my head for even longer.”

“Fingers, toes, and everything else I can think of crossed for you,” I tell him as I head out the door.

I keep looking at the clock during English, wondering how things are going at the courthouse. Mom promised to text me as soon as there was any news, but when I’ve checked my phone between classes there’s been nothing.

“Stella, are you with us?” Ms. Elias asks. “I asked you for your thoughts on the essay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

I make a major effort to stay focused till the bell rings. But my mind is down at the courthouse with Rob and my parents. Rob needs to move forward. We all do.

When the bell finally rings, Ms. Elias says, “Stella, can I speak with you for a moment?”

I’m dying to check my cell, but I can’t exactly say no.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “You seemed very distracted in class.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I tell her. “It’s just … my brother’s court hearing is today, and I’ve been really stressed waiting to hear what’s happened.”

“Have you heard anything?” she asks.

“I was just going to check,” I say.

“Go right ahead,” she tells me.

I pull my phone out of my backpack. There’s a text from Mom.

MOM: Plea Deal. Pay for Boles medical expenses, $1500 fine, accepted group at college in lieu of anger management classes.

“Plea deal,” I tell Ms. Elias with a grin.

ME: So definitely no jail?

MOM: One year probation.

“My mom says Rob’s going to be on probation for a year, but otherwise no jail,” I tell Ms. Elias.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ms. Elias says. “I taught your brother. Mayor Abbott had no business blowing that incident out of proportion and dragging his name and especially Farida’s through the dirt for political gain.” She sighs. “Politics can be a nasty business.”

“Tell me about it,” I say. “I just ran for junior class president.”

She laughs. “So you did. And I hope you’ll stay involved, because even though it’s a messy process, it doesn’t mean we can turn our backs on it.”

“That’s something I’m learning more each day,” I say.

“Glad to hear it,” Ms. Elias says. “Give your brother my best. And I’m looking forward to your piece on the Robotics Club for the AstroNews.”

“I will,” I promise, and head out of the classroom.

Mom’s texted me again. Inviting a few people tonight to celebrate.

ME: Is Rob okay with that?

MOM: He says he is. He’s going to invite a few friends from the college. (!!)

ME: Can I invite a few friends? Like three maybe?

MOM: Why not?

Rob’s not going to jail, and we’re having a party tonight.

Life is looking up by the minute.

I start to text Mom back, but I’m so busy looking at my phone that I walk straight into Chris and end up dropping my phone and my books with a spectacular crash.

“My apologies, Mr. President,” I say, bending down to check that the good luck is continuing and my phone screen hasn’t shattered. Thankfully, it hasn’t.

Chris laughs and squats down to help retrieve my stuff.

“Good thing my Secret Service detail wasn’t around to witness that.” He hands me my books.

“Thanks. And … well, I can’t honestly say I’m sorry your dad lost because I really wanted his opponent to win, but … I am honestly sorry if it was hard for you.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t have believed you anyway if you’d said you were sorry my dad lost,” he says. “But I can believe you’re sorry that it’s hard for me. Because you care about how people feel—which is pretty cool.” Then, lowering his voice, he admits, “Between you and me, it’s a relief. I wasn’t looking forward to having to go everywhere with a security detail. And I would have had to change schools, because we’d have had to move into the governor’s mansion.”

“Just when you won the election here.”

“Yeah,” Chris says. “But I can’t say that at home. Dad hasn’t taken losing well, and … let’s just say there’s not a lot of room for talking about anything else. At least he’s still serving out the rest of his term as mayor.”

I roll my eyes at that.

He shrugs, as if he wants to shake off whatever feelings talking about this are giving him. “Whatever. Gotta go.”

As we head in opposite directions down the hallway, I wonder why Chris can tell me that he’s relieved his dad lost, but not his own family. Is that why Rob needs his veterans’ group? Maybe there are things he can tell them that he doesn’t feel he can talk to us about.

Do they understand him better? Or does he think our feelings about him are so big that we don’t leave him room to have his own?

I still feel guilty that my attempt to help Rob went so spectacularly wrong and almost landed my brother in jail. Maybe he needs more than what we can give him. Maybe he needs the professional care, and to talk about things to people who really understand what he went through. Mom and Dad are vets, too, but somehow they came out okay. Mr. Meyers on the other hand—he had a hard time, too.

Why Rob? Why Jason? Why Frank Meyers?

But then why did some people in Rob’s squad die or get injured, and Rob come back alive and physically uninjured?

I want to think everything is logical and that there’s a purpose and a plan to life, but it seems like sometimes bad things just happen, even to people who don’t deserve it. What do you do then?

I guess it’s kind of like what Ms. Elias said about politics being messy. Life gets really messy, too, but we can’t just turn our backs on the world when that happens, no matter how difficult and painful it gets. We have to stay involved. In fact, that’s when we have to work even harder to make things better. It’s the only way change ever happens.

When I get home, Mom tells me to hurry up and do my homework so I can help get ready for the party. But first, I go to find Rob, who is helping Dad set up folding chairs that they borrowed from the Legion hall in the living room so we have more seating.

“Congratulations,” I say, high-fiving him. “Good to know that I won’t have to smuggle contraband in a cake to you.”

“Feel free to bake me a cake anyway,” he says. “There can never be enough cake.”

“Mom has the cake covered for tonight,” Dad says.

“That’s good, because I’ve got homework to do before this shindig starts.”

I race upstairs to get my work done, trying to ignore all the party preparations going on below.

The scent of Dad’s special chili wafts up from the kitchen, making my stomach growl, and then I smell the sweeter aroma of corn bread and cake.

Peggy wanders in to check on me.

“What’s up, Peg? Is the smell driving you crazy, too?”

She wags her tail, brushes her body against my leg, and then walks out, her surveillance mission complete.

When I’m done, I go down to help—and steal a piece of corn bread, which earns me a scowl from Mom.

“Put it on the table and set out some butter on a plate. Then put the chips in a bowl. Guests will start arriving any minute.”

When the doorbell rings, Rob comes bounding down the stairs, shouting, “I’ll get it!”

He’s freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that reads Dune, and—

“Are you wearing cologne?” I ask.

“Stella, do me a favor, and try really hard to act normal for a change,” he says, glaring at me as he opens the door.

Since my brother appears to have been taken over by an alien, I stay to look at who is on the doorstep. It’s a girl. Well, that explains it. Also, maybe why he is smiling more than I’ve seen him do in a long time, and giving her an awkward hug.

“Caitlin, this is my sister, Stella,” Rob says. “Stella, this is Caitlin.”

Caitlin has a really nice smile as she says hi to me. And from the way she and Rob smile at each other, I think they either are more than friends or want to be.

Rob really has been keeping secrets.

I hang back while he introduces her to Mom and Dad. Mom’s voice gets slightly higher pitched like when she doesn’t know someone and is really going all out to be friendly. Dad, on the other hand, gets super jovial. He could try out to be Santa Claus at the mall, he’s so jolly. They just want to make a good impression because Rob has brought home a girl.

It’s so awkward I think about uninviting Adam, but he’s already texted me that he’s on his way.

Fortunately for everyone involved in this excruciatingly embarrassing little scene, more guests arrive. Ken, a few of Rob’s friends from school, Mr. Neustadt, Mr. Meyers, some of the other guys from the American Legion post. Lots of introductions for Caitlin. I feel sorry for her, but she handles it well. Farida arrives bearing trays of food from the restaurant and the awesome news that she landed the role of Glinda in Wicked. We jump up and down for, like, five minutes before Rob tells us to either take it outside or get a life.

“We’ve already got one,” I tell him. “Farida’s going to be Glinda in Wicked.”

“Hey, that’s great!” he says, high-fiving her.

For a Monday night impromptu celebration, this is turning out to be quite the party.

Luckily for me—and him—Adam arrives at the same time as Rob’s friends from college, so he manages to slip in without getting the third degree.

“So this is what it’s like to come to a non-SulkFest at your house,” he says, giving me a very brief hug due to the presence of relatives.

“Yeah, it’s better catered than the other kind. It’s not just ice cream and cookies. Now there’s chili and corn bread, amazing food from Tigris, and cake.”

“Glad to hear it—otherwise I would have to leave right now.”

Peggy comes straight up to Adam and licks his hand.

“Ah, Peggy,” he says, “You’ve got a good memory for weak links, I gather.”

“The best,” I say. “She’s your BFF now. Until another weak link comes along.”

“Well, at least I know where I stand, which is a lot less confusing than it is with most girls,” Adam says. Then, seeing the look on my face, he quickly adds, “Wait. That came out wrong. Totally wrong. I’m not comparing you to a dog. Or another girl. I mean—”

“How about we go get some food to put in your mouth instead of your foot?” I say.

“Great idea!” he says with a relieved smile.

The food is amazing. Dad’s outdone himself with his chili, and the El-Rahims sent dolma stuffed with the most delicious spiced lamb, and chicken kebabs, as well as hummus, baba ganoush, and pita. There’s enough food to feed a small army, let alone a celebrating group of friends and veterans.

As I sit eating with my friends, I keep looking over at my brother and this mystery girl. I know it’s not just her, he’s also relieved that he can put the threat of jail behind him, but he’s more animated than I’ve seen him in months. I mean, he agreed to have this party, which is more than he did when he came home.

“We’re out of ice,” Ken says.

“I’ll go get some,” I say, getting up and taking the ice bucket from him.

I’m getting ice out of the freezer when one of Rob’s friends from college comes in to get another beer out of the fridge.

“Hey, I’m Jack,” he says. “Nice to meet you. I’m in the vets’ group.”

“I’m Stella, Rob’s sister.”

He pops the cap on his beer and leans back against the kitchen sink.

“Ah, so you’re the famous Stella,” he says.

Famous?

“Is being famous in your group a good thing or a bad thing?” I ask, wondering if this means I’m one of the major sources of Rob’s problems. I imagine him telling them: “You think fighting a war was bad—now I have to be under the same roof as my obnoxious little sister.”

“In your case, good. Your brother thinks you’re pretty awesome.”

“So … he doesn’t blame me for almost getting him put in prison?”

Jack’s sharp intake of breath tells me I’ve managed to shock him.

“Oh, kid—you’ve been carrying that weight around?”

I shrug, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Well, that and putting my best friend’s family in danger and risking their restaurant.”

“He’s been too busy blaming himself for those same things, plus a whole lot more, for him to spare any blame for you,” Jack says. “I’m just happy that the plea deal was accepted so he can move on.”

I glance into the living room where Rob is sitting with Tony, another friend from group, and Farida. Caitlin is on the sofa next to him, and he has his arm around her.

“She’s great,” Jack says, following my gaze. “I’m glad Rob gave it a chance instead of backing off because he was afraid of going to jail.”

I’m happy, too. Except … I live across the hall from my brother, and I just found out she existed today. But I guess I haven’t exactly shared with him about Adam. I guess we’re both in for surprises today.

“Yeah,” I say, but apparently it’s not convincing.

“Don’t you like her?”

“I just met her. Rob’s never even mentioned her name until she showed up for the party.”

“Oh,” he says.

“We used to talk,” I tell him. “So yeah, I’m glad that he’s happy, but I’m sad about the secrets. He was away for so long and now I’m afraid he’s never really going to be back, even though he’s here.” I throw more ice into the bucket, then put it on the counter. “Do you think he’ll ever talk to me about the important things in his life again?”

“Caitlin is different. And I can understand why that hurts, but … some things are just … hard to talk about to anyone who hasn’t been there,” Jack says. “Especially the people you love most.”

He picks at the label of his beer bottle. “The group is helping me realize it’s okay to feel. It’s helping me to face some of the crap that gives me nightmares so I don’t want to feel.”

“Rob gets nightmares, too.”

“Yeah. He said he told you about the kid.”

I nod. “The night we went to the movies. I was trying to get him out of the house for a change, because he’d been in a serious funk and they were showing the director’s cut of Alien.” I sigh. “But it turned out to be a disaster because that’s the night the thing happened with Wade Boles.”

“He told you about it that same night?” Jack asks.

“Yeah. Right before we went into the mall. Because a dog ran in front of the car and we almost hit it. That really freaked him out. I guess it reminded him because … well … because.”

“So his wires were already buzzing before he even went into the mall,” Jack explains.

“His wires?”

“That’s just how I describe it,” Jack says. “Like your veins are wires and when something sets you off, they start buzzing with high-voltage electricity.”

“That sounds … uncomfortable.”

“Well, it explains why he’d get set off so easily,” Jack says. “We’re doing Mindfulness exercises in group. It’s supposed to help cope with that. The counselor is trying to set up something at a yoga place for us.”

I giggle, and Jack gives me a strange look.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing—I’m just trying to picture Rob in yoga pants.”

“We can wear shorts and T-shirts, so you’ll have to figure out something else to tease him about.”

“Tease Rob? Me? Never!”

He grins at me. “Riiiight.”

Then, seeing that Mom’s starting to cut the cake, he says, “I’m going to go help myself to some of that cake before the gang demolishes it.”

I stand watching from the outside for a few moments before going in to join everyone, grateful to see Rob happy, and wondering if he’ll let me be a part of his inner world again. I guess it’s a two-way street, though. I have to let him back into mine, too.

Maybe we have to grow back into that. We have to relearn how to trust each other. I just hope he’s not lost to me forever.

A warm arm comes around my shoulder. “You look wistful. Do I need to go out and get some ice cream?” Adam whispers in my ear.

I laugh. It’s weird how well he gets me.

“A piece of cake will do.”

He’s about to take his arm away to get me a piece, but I grab his hand to keep it there.

“Or just staying here and chilling for a little while.”

“I can manage that. What’s on your mind?”

“Change. How it can be good and bad, but either way, it’s not always easy.”

“Oh, so just some light thoughts for a party, then,” he says, chuckling.

I turn to him and smile ruefully. “I guess one thing is clear. I suck at parties, huh?”

“I don’t know … I seem to recall enjoying your SulkFest a great deal.”

He’s smiling and his lips are close enough to kiss if I just lean forward. It’s so tempting I forget, for a hot second of insanity, that my entire family is in the next room.

It feels so right, but it turns out to be a bad mistake.

“Ooooh! Stella’s got a boyfriend!” Rob shouts.

Seriously?

I feel my face start to flush, and I can’t even look at Adam.

“Wait, is this the brother who asked me to ‘act normal for a change’ before opening the door to his girlfriend?”

It gives me great satisfaction to see my brother’s face turn as red as mine feels.

I can’t tell whose friends are laughing harder—Rob’s or mine.

“How old are our kids again?” Mom asks Dad.

“As you’re so fond of reminding me, you should know, you were there,” Dad says, putting his arm around her and kissing her.

Mom laughs and kisses him back.

It feels good to see my family laugh again—even if they are the most embarrassing people on the planet.

Maybe laughter is the first step to making us whole again.