ALEX was the worst driver Max knew. She drove too fast and was too distracted, and she talked too much. But on a cold afternoon in March, a couple of months after they’d returned home from Iceland, her new car screeched to a stop in front of Max’s school so suddenly that her tires left thick black tracks.
She had never done that.
“Awwwwwesome!” yelled Dugan Dempsey. He was one of the Fearsome Foursome, so called because they used to make fun of Max before Max became rich and famous.
Max could hear music blasting from inside her car. Some loud rock anthem he didn’t know. The whole vehicle was bouncing up and down in rhythm because Alex was inside, screaming the song and dancing on her butt.
That made Max laugh. He was glad to laugh, because Evelyn had not been in robotics that day and that had put him in a bad mood.
“You’re happy,” Max said, sliding into the passenger seat.
“Eeeeeee!” Alex squealed, holding out her phone screen to him. “They said yes! The Morgan Group. One of the best literary agents in New York!”
“Wait,” Max said, squinting at an email message. “You wrote a book? Called The Lost Treasures?”
“A proposal,” Alex said. “And four chapters. I based it on our adventures. With names changed. They want me to write more. They think they can sell it. They’ll help me. Can you believe this, Max? This has been my dream! Woooooo-HOOOO!”
“That’s awesome,” Max said.
Alex snuck a kiss onto his cheek so fast, he didn’t have time to lurch away. “I thought this year would be lost, Max. I thought taking care of you would be a sacrifice. A way to make some money. To prepare for my real life. But what we’ve done, Max—oh my goodness, I have material for years. And I have you. Who would have thought I could meet a cousin I never knew I could love so much? It’s you and me, buddy—family forever!”
She stuck out a fist, and Max bumped it. “Can we go now?”
Alex’s face fell. “Was it something I said?”
“No, I’m happy you’re happy,” Max replied. “But I’m not happy that Evelyn wasn’t in class, that’s all. Whenever she misses, she’s supposed to tell me. We promised we’d tell each other. But she didn’t.”
“Maybe she just forgot,” Alex said, putting the car in Drive. “She’s busy.”
“She always lets me know,” Max said. “It’s something we worked out. And can you turn the music down?”
Alex drove through the streets of Savile, humming to the softened tunes on her radio. As they pulled up to the Tilts’ house, Max’s mom and dad were both waiting at the foot of the walkway. Smriti was with them.
“Evelyn wasn’t in robotics,” Max said as he stepped out of the door. “And why are you all smiling?”
Smiles were fine, but Max was not used to three of them for no reason at all. He wasn’t used to being greeted on the sidewalk of his house either. This was starting to seem odd to him.
“They’ve sequenced it,” Mom said, the words nearly getting stuck in her throat with excitement. “They’ve sequenced the serum. At that lab at MIT. They’ve never seen anything like it, they said. They joked about winning a Nobel.”
Max’s mood lifted about thirteen quantum levels. “Whaaat? That’s amazing.”
“It doesn’t mean they know how to control it,” Dad said. “They’re still a long way from that. They have to do some lab tests, and some clinical tests with Mom. It may take years. But they think they’re on the right track.”
Behind him, Alex cranked up the music in the car. She left it on while he jumped out. Smriti started dancing with her. Mom and Dad were moving with Mom and Dad dance moves. They all linked arms and headed into the house.
Max laughed. It felt good to have music when you were walking into your own house. Especially when there was so much news.
As they stepped inside, Max’s heart slumped. Standing inside the front door was Mrs. Lopez, Evelyn’s mom. Max liked her, but he didn’t like seeing her without Evelyn. Ever since Evelyn got sick, she and her mom did everything together. They had to.
“Hello, Max,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” Max asked. “What happened to Evelyn? Why wasn’t she in robotics?”
“She . . . she had to prepare for something,” Mrs. Lopez said.
Max’s mom took him by the arm and led him into the living room. Streamers had been strewn over the walls, and a glittery disco ball hung from the ceiling. “What the—?” Max said.
From inside the house, Evelyn entered the room. She walked slowly. Her walker was gone, no wheelchair was in sight, and neither arm was balanced on crutches. As she entered the room, she spun around slowly. “Hey, Max, what’s up?”
Max felt his mouth dropping open. For the first time in a long time, he had no idea what to say.
Someone had activated the Sonos system—Alex probably. It was playing some boring rock music—Dad’s probably. Dad and Mom were off in one corner, doing some crazy jitterbug thing. Alex and Smriti were trading hip-hop moves. Mrs. Lopez was clapping hands and smiling at her daughter.
“Want to dance?” Evelyn said. “I mean, I know you hate to, but . . .”
As she moved to the rhythm, free and happy, Max just looked at everyone and smiled.
Then he closed his eyes and began to move too, and he didn’t care how he looked or what anyone thought.
“Just this one time,” he said. He had never, ever felt better.
And that was a fact.