Maxine visited me again in my sleep.

We were back in our old apartment. I found her sitting on the living room floor, doing one of her favorite large-piece puzzles. I was flooded with happiness and relief.

But this wasn’t cheerful Maxine.

This was full-on tantrum Maxine. When she saw me she launched herself at me, her face beet red, her little fists flailing.

“I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry.” I could hear a ping in the background as she hit me. Then she started scratching my face—

I woke up. Heavy rain was pelting the window. Ferdinand was sitting by my head, batting at my nose with his paws. Memories from last night washed over me. Ugh.

Another ping. It was my phone.

I had a series of texts from Jacob.

Raining on the mountain.

Heading home early.

You around?

I typed: Yes. Back when?

Couple hours. How’d the surprise go?

AWFUL.

So sorry. Home by one. Come over?

OK.

I put down my phone. Anne of Green Gables and Stuart Little were at the end of my bed. I sat up and lifted them onto my stomach. Stanley wandered in and joined the rest of us. They were probably hungry, but they knew they had a job to do, and that was to comfort me.

I lay back down and petted all four of them. Letting myself just be sad.

—

I was forced to get up an hour later when Ferdinand barfed up an enormous hair ball on my duvet. I cleaned it up and made a quick run to the kitchen to feed the cats, grabbing myself two bagels and a banana at the same time. My parents were nowhere to be seen, thank God. I just could not handle seeing them.

I showered. I got dressed. It was still only eleven-thirty. So I went online.

It had been a few weeks since I’d uploaded Cataptation to the pet food contest. Last time I’d checked, our video was buried deep among the other entries and had only one hundred twenty views. I decided to have another look.

I found our video immediately. It was almost at the top.

I had to keep looking at the number. I was sure I was adding an extra zero. But no, the figure was correct.

Forty-two thousand, two hundred fifty-six views.

A lot of people had voted for it. It was currently in third place.

I did a happy dance around my room, almost stepping on yet another of Anne of Green Gables’s stealth turds, tucked underneath a pair of my discarded socks.

—

Serge the Concierge was on the phone when I entered the lobby. He smiled and waved me up.

Miranda answered the door. Her purple glasses magnified her eyes, and it looked like she’d been crying. “Jacob’s in his room. He’s— He may not want guests.”

“Oh. He told me to come over.”

She gave a sort of vague nod, and walked with me down the hall. Jacob’s door was ajar. He sat at his desk, staring into space.

“Jacob, Petula’s here.”

He stood up and smiled. It looked forced. “Hey.”

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Miranda slipped away.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” We sat down on his bed. “Tell me what happened last night.”

“Long story short? They’re separating.”

“Petula. I’m so sorry.” He pulled me to him and held me close for a long time, stroking my hair. He was wearing his green sweater, and I felt warm and safe as I breathed him in.

“I need to tell you something,” I said into his sweater.

“Shoot.”

“A couple of weeks ago I entered our Cataptation video into that pet food contest.”

He grew still.

I looked up at him. “I know you asked me not to. But, Jacob, the prize is a lifetime supply of cat food. That would be huge for my family. And get this, it’s in third place! We have over forty thousand views.”

His face was a blank.

“Please don’t be mad. This is good for you, too. People love it, Jacob. They love your work.”

“Wow.”

“I know, right?”

“I was so clear.” He stood up.

“Jacob. It’s a hit.”

“My name is on that film.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that the point? Don’t you want your work out there?”

He ran his good hand through his hair. “I want you to take it down.”

“What? Why? I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Just do it, okay?” I’d never seen him this angry.

But I was angry, too. “In case you weren’t listening, my parents are separating. They already struggle to make ends meet; now they’re going to have to pay for two apartments. If I win this contest, I’m saving them at least a hundred bucks a month. So, no. It’s my video too, and I won’t take it down, especially since you can’t even give me a reasonable explanation!”

He stared at me, hard. “I think you’d better go.”

I stood up. “Oh, trust me, I’m going. Call me if you decide to stop being a dick.”

As I walked out, I noticed a new letter sitting open on his desk.