At Bart’s house we ate dinner.

We walked to the backyard just as Grant was taking burgers off the grill and when he saw me he said, “Holy crap,” and almost dropped the tray.

I said, “Hi.” And he said, “Hi? What are you doing here?”

He seemed mad at me, which was weird.

He wanted to know where I’d been.

Bart’s mom made us sit down.

“I wasn’t gone that long,” I said.

“You were gone for hours, Olivia. Everyone thought you were just going to cool off but then you didn’t come back.”

Bart’s mom made me a plate. She made one for Grant, too, but he didn’t seem to feel like eating. Instead he kept asking me things. Telling me how irresponsible that was.

“I’m going to call your mom right now,” he said.

And I said, “Can’t we eat?”

He looked at me. “Olivia. She’s really upset.”

I put down a Dorito. “I know, I know. I let her down.”

He stared at me. “You let her down?”

I didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t let her down. You scared the earwax out of her is what you did.”

I ate the Dorito. “She doesn’t care.”

“She doesn’t care? Are you kidding me?” he said. “She’s been a wreck. She made your dad leave. Screamed at him.”

My heart started thumping. “She did?”

“Oh yeah. It got ugly.”

I thought about that. Mom never yelled at Dad. Ever.

“Why?”

“He kept telling her to calm down. That it wasn’t a big deal and she went ballistic.”

My mom. Going ballistic. About me. To my dad.

“And he left?”

“He said he’d find you on his own and took off.”

I swallowed. Mom made him leave. She did it.

Then Grant said, “We’ve all been looking for you.”

I looked at the ketchup bottle. “Who?”

“All of us. Me. Bob. Melody. Delilah. Paul. Randy. Jerry. Carlene and Tandi and Lala and Chip. Even Sydney. Baby George. Everyone.” He paused for a second. Then he said, “Your whole family.”

That’s when I really started crying.