Chapter 1
One Year
Luke Donahue checked the reservation for the fourth time before slipping his phone into his pocket.
Seven o’clock. Two people. Tanaka House.
It was still there, exactly as it had been the first three times.
“You know,” Kimberly said from the kitchen table, “they don’t cancel reservations just because you stop staring at them.”
Luke looked over his shoulder. His grandmother sat with both hands wrapped around a coffee mug, watching him with an amused smile.
“I wasn’t checking the reservation.”
“What were you checking?”
“The weather.”
Kimberly glanced toward the window. Beyond the glass, February had turned Grandieur, Pennsylvania, into a picture made almost entirely of gray. Old snow lined the driveway, hardened along the edges by several days of freezing temperatures.
“Has the weather changed since you came downstairs?”
“It might have.”
“At seven in the morning?”
“Weather’s unpredictable.”
“Your lying needs work.”
Luke smiled despite himself and adjusted the flowers resting on the counter. He had ordered them from Green Thumb Greenery, where he worked during the spring and summer. Mr. Saunders had allowed him into the closed shop the previous afternoon so he could put the arrangement together himself.
Red roses would have been the obvious choice, but Jessica had once said roses were what boys bought when they hadn’t bothered learning anything about the girl receiving them.
So Luke had chosen white lilies surrounded by smaller purple flowers whose name he had already forgotten.
Jessica loved purple.
Next to the flowers sat a small silver bracelet inside a velvet box. Between the bracelet, the restaurant, and the flowers, most of the money Luke had earned clearing driveways for S&P Lawn Care was gone.
He didn’t care. Today mattered.
One year.
At seventeen, one year felt like proof that he had managed to do something right.
Daniel entered the kitchen wearing flannel pajama pants and a faded Grandieur High sweatshirt. His gray hair stood up on one side, and he squinted at the flowers as though they had personally disturbed his sleep.
“Those for me?”
“You didn’t get me anything,” Kimberly said.
“I made coffee.”
“You pressed one button.”
“And it worked perfectly.”
Daniel poured himself a cup, then nodded toward Luke. “One year’s a big deal when you’re seventeen.”
“That’s what I said.”
“You haven’t said anything,” Kimberly replied.
“I thought it.”
Luke picked up the velvet box and opened it again. The bracelet was still inside. It hadn’t mysteriously vanished since the last time he checked.
Kimberly noticed and shook her head. “Your mother would tell you not to spend an entire paycheck on one night.”
“Only half a paycheck.”
The lie came easily enough to make Daniel laugh.
Luke glanced at the framed photograph beside the microwave. Jill Donahue smiled from a beach chair, sunglasses resting on top of her head. She had one arm around a seven-year-old Luke, holding him close as he tried to squirm away from the camera.
There were times when looking at her felt comforting.
There were others when it felt like discovering the loss all over again.
This morning, it was somewhere in between.
“She’d like Jessica,” Luke said.
Kimberly’s expression softened. “She would like anyone who made you happy.”
Luke closed the bracelet box. “Then she’d like Jessica.”
His phone vibrated.
For half a second, he wondered if Jessica had sent him an anniversary message. He had sent hers at midnight, although he had rewritten it so many times that it was almost twelve fifteen before he finally hit send.
Happy one year. I know I don’t always say things right, but this has been the best year of my life. I love you.
Her answer had come several minutes later.
Love you too. Happy anniversary.
Now her name appeared again.
Running late. I’ll get myself to school. Don’t wait for me.
Luke frowned.
He usually picked Jessica up on Fridays. Her house was out of the way, but he had never minded. It gave them fifteen minutes alone before school.
Everything okay? he typed.
Three dots appeared, vanished, then appeared again.
Yeah. Just running behind. I’ll see you there.
“Jessica?” Daniel asked.
“She’s getting herself to school.”
Kimberly raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean she isn’t getting the flowers until you arrive?”
“I guess not.”
“That might be safer. Holding those out the truck window could be difficult.”
Luke picked up his backpack. “I’m going to pretend you’re both being supportive.”
“We are,” Daniel said. “We’re also enjoying this.”
Luke carried the flowers and gift toward the front door.
“Luke,” Kimberly called after him.
He turned.
“Have a good day. Don’t put so much pressure on everything being perfect.”
“I’m not.”
She gave him a look that said she knew him better than that.
Luke opened the door before she could prove it.
Outside, the cold air caught in his lungs. His truck waited in the driveway, an aging blue Ford that Daniel had helped him buy after he earned his license. Luke set the flowers carefully on the passenger-side floor, where the heat wouldn’t blow directly against them, then slid behind the wheel.
He checked the reservation one more time.
Just in case.
---
Chloe Star was waiting at the end of her driveway with her backpack over one shoulder and a travel mug in her hand.
She opened the rear door, stopped, then leaned forward between the seats.
“Oh, wow.”
Luke glanced at her in the mirror. “Good morning to you too.”
“Are those the flowers?”
“No, I’ve started driving around with arrangements for atmosphere.”
Chloe climbed in and pulled the door shut. A knitted green hat covered most of her dark hair, but several loose strands had escaped and curled around her face.
“You listened to me,” she said.
“I listen to you sometimes.”
“White lilies, purple accents, no roses.”
“I forgot what the purple ones are called.”
“Statice.”
“That doesn’t sound like a flower.”
“It is.”
“It sounds like a medication.”
Chloe laughed, and something in Luke relaxed.
It was always easy with her. It had been easy since seventh grade, when she had corrected him during a science project, apologized for correcting him, then corrected his spelling two minutes later.
“Jessica will love them,” Chloe said.
“I hope so.”
“She will.”
“You said that about the restaurant too.”
“Because she’ll love that too. Tanaka House is fancy without being so fancy you need to know which fork you’re allowed to touch.”
“I know how forks work.”
“Last month you tried to eat lo mein with a spoon.”
“The chopsticks were defective.”
“That was definitely the problem.”
Luke pulled away from the curb.
Mason stood in the front window of Chloe’s house and waved both arms over his head. Luke tapped the horn twice. The nine-year-old grinned and disappeared from sight, probably to prepare another ambush before school on Monday.
They drove three streets over to Jacob Johnson’s house. He emerged before Luke had completely stopped, wearing a winter coat over a button-down shirt.
Chloe stared at him when he climbed into the back seat beside her.
“Why are you dressed like someone’s accountant?”
“I have my Green Brooke admissions interview this afternoon.”
“I thought you already got in,” Luke said.
“I did. It’s for a technology scholarship.”
“You didn’t tell us that.”
“I told both of you Tuesday.”
Chloe looked at Luke. “Did he?”
“I remember something about a server.”
“That was a different conversation,” Jacob said. “We were talking about what would happen if the school’s entire network crashed.”
“I know how Wi-Fi works, Jacob.”
“You might know how to connect to it. What happens when the whole server room goes down?”
“Then I find a new school.”
Jacob stared at him.
Luke shrugged. “Or a new job.”
“You’re going to be managing a business someday.”
“Exactly. I’ll hire you to fix it.”
Chloe shook her head, smiling as she looked out the window.
Jacob noticed the flowers on the floor. “Those are going to survive down there?”
“They’re fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Chloe approved them.”
Jacob nodded once. “Then they’re fine.”
“See?” Chloe said. “Someone respects my expertise.”
“You searched flower meanings online for an hour,” Luke reminded her.
“That makes me more qualified than either of you.”
They turned onto the road leading toward Grandieur High. The school rose above the surrounding neighborhood, its old brick front partly obscured by bare trees. Cars filled the student parking lot, and buses moved in a slow line beside the building.
“What movie are we watching tomorrow?” Luke asked.
“We’re still doing movie night?” Chloe asked.
“Why wouldn’t we?”
“It’s the day after your anniversary. I thought you and Jessica might have plans.”
“We have plans tonight. Tomorrow is Saturday.”
Jacob leaned forward. “Strong grasp of the calendar.”
“Thank you.”
“I wasn’t complimenting you.”
Luke glanced at Chloe in the mirror. “You’re the one who keeps changing your vote.”
“Because Jacob picked a three-hour movie about people walking through the desert.”
“It won awards,” Jacob said.
“So has kale. I still don’t want three hours of it.”
“I voted for the zombie movie,” Luke said.
“You always vote for the zombie movie.”
“Because it has zombies.”
“That isn’t an argument.”
“It’s the only argument it needs.”
Their conversation carried them into the parking lot. Luke found a space near the back and shut off the engine.
For a few seconds, none of them moved. Music continued playing through the truck’s speakers, the final guitar notes fading into silence.
Luke looked toward the school.
Jessica stood near the main entrance.
John Kosh was beside her.
They weren’t touching. There was nothing strange about them standing together. John was friends with half the senior class, and Jessica had known him long before she started dating Luke.
Still, something about the sight unsettled him.
Maybe it was the way Jessica was looking up at John. Maybe it was how close they stood despite the cold, as if they had been having a conversation neither wanted interrupted.
Chloe followed his gaze. “She probably just got here.”
“Yeah.”
Jacob opened his door. “Interview. Flowers. Anniversary. We’ve all got something to survive today.”
“Very inspiring,” Chloe said.
“I do what I can.”
Luke reached for the flowers. When he straightened, Jessica was watching him.
Her face changed the instant she saw the arrangement.
Not happiness. Not surprise.
Fear.
Luke told himself he had imagined it.
He climbed out of the truck and walked toward her.
John saw him first. His expression tightened, then smoothed into something polite.
“Hey, Luke.”
“Hey.”
Jessica looked from the flowers to Luke. “What are those?”
Luke stopped.
He had imagined several things she might say when she saw them. That wasn’t one of them.
“They’re for you.”
“I know. I meant—” She pushed a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s our anniversary.”
“Right.”
The cold seemed sharper all at once.
Luke held the flowers out. Jessica accepted them, but she didn’t bring them closer to smell them. She held them awkwardly between them, as if he had handed her something fragile that belonged to someone else.
He leaned forward to kiss her.
Jessica turned her head.
His lips brushed her cheek.
Behind him, Chloe and Jacob had stopped walking.
Luke stepped back. “Everything okay?”
“We need to talk.”
Four words. Quietly spoken.
Every movie Luke had ever watched had taught him what those words meant.
He looked at John.
John shoved both hands into the pockets of his expensive wool coat. “I should go inside.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Luke said.
John nodded and walked away. He didn’t look proud. If anything, he looked relieved to escape.
Jessica stared down at the flowers.
“Can we go somewhere private?” she asked.
Luke wanted to say no. If they didn’t go anywhere private, perhaps they wouldn’t have the conversation. The morning could continue. First period would begin. At seven, he and Jessica would sit across from each other at Tanaka House, and he would give her the bracelet.
Everything would remain where he had left it.
“Sure,” he said.
She led him around the side of the school toward the courtyard. Nobody used it during the winter. The benches were coated in frost, and old snow had collected beneath the tables.
Jessica stopped near the doors to the auditorium.
Luke kept his hands in his coat pockets so she wouldn’t see them shaking.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
Her eyes closed for a moment.
That was his answer.
“Luke—”
“Just say it.”
“I don’t think this is working anymore.”
“Since when?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“We’ve been growing apart.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
She hugged the flowers against her coat. “For a while.”
Luke thought about the past few weeks. The canceled plans. The shorter calls. The way Jessica had started leaving messages unanswered for hours and then acted as if nothing had happened.
He had noticed all of it.
He had simply chosen explanations that hurt less.
“Is this about John?”
Jessica’s silence stretched too long.
Luke felt the cold vanish from his skin. Heat rose through his chest and into his face.
“Jessica.”
“Yes.”
The word was barely audible.
“What does that mean?”
“It means there’s something between us.”
“Something between you?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
She looked toward the parking lot.
“How long?” Luke repeated.
“Since before Thanksgiving.”
His mind rejected the answer at first. Thanksgiving had been months ago.
“Before Thanksgiving,” he said. “You’ve been with him since before Thanksgiving?”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“But it did.”
“Yes.”
“And it kept happening?”
Jessica’s eyes filled, but Luke couldn’t make himself feel sorry for her.
“About two and a half months,” she admitted.
He laughed once, though nothing was funny. “We’ve only been together a year.”
“I know.”
“So for a quarter of it, you were cheating on me.”
“I didn’t plan it that way.”
“You keep saying that like it matters.”
“I’m trying to explain.”
“You could’ve ended it.” His voice rose, echoing against the brick walls. “You could’ve told me you didn’t want to be with me anymore. You didn’t have to keep lying to me.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Hurting you.”
Luke stared at her. “How did that work out?”
She looked away.
He wanted to leave. He also wanted an explanation that could somehow rearrange the facts into something survivable.
“I thought you loved me,” he said.
“I did.”
“Did?”
Jessica’s grip tightened around the flowers. “Part of me still does.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I care about you, Luke. I always will.”
“People don’t do this to someone they care about.”
“I know what I did was wrong.”
“Then why did you do it?”
Jessica finally looked at him. “Because being with you always felt like showing you a world you’d never seen before.”
He flinched.
She noticed.
“That came out wrong.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“My family has parties, events, dinners—everything is always about who knows who and what comes next. At first you were excited by it. I liked that. But after a while…” She hesitated. “I wanted someone who was already comfortable there. Someone who belonged without me having to guide him through it.”
“Someone like John.”
“Yes.”
Luke looked at the auditorium doors, focusing on the silver push bar.
Anything was easier than looking at her.
“I never asked you to guide me.”
“I know.”
“And I never asked you to make me part of your world.”
“I know that too.”
“Then don’t pretend you did me some favor.”
“I’m not.”
“It sounds like you are.”
Jessica wiped quickly beneath one eye. “There’s something else.”
“Of course there is.”
“Chloe.”
Luke looked back at her. “What about Chloe?”
“She’s part of this.”
“No, she isn’t.”
“You always go to her.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“Whenever anything real happens, she’s the first person you want to talk to. When you’re worried about college, you talk to Chloe. When you’re upset about your mom, you talk to Chloe. She picked the restaurant for tonight, didn’t she?”
Luke said nothing.
Jessica gave a small, humorless laugh. “I knew it.”
“She helped me choose it because I wanted you to like it.”
“That’s the point, Luke. She knows what you need before you do.”
“So this is somehow her fault?”
“No. It’s mine. I’m the one who cheated.” Jessica looked down at the arrangement in her hands. “But don’t stand there and act like there wasn’t already someone between us.”
“There wasn’t.”
“Maybe not for you.”
The first bell rang inside the building.
Jessica held the flowers out to him.
Luke stared at them. “Keep them.”
“I can’t.”
“Throw them away, then.”
“Luke—”
He walked past her and pulled open the auditorium door.
“Happy anniversary,” he said without turning around.
---
By third period, Luke had read the same paragraph in his economics textbook six times and still couldn’t have explained what it said.
Words covered the page, but none of them seemed willing to stay in his head.
Before Thanksgiving.
Two and a half months.
Someone who belonged.
Maybe not for you.
He kept returning to that last sentence.
Jessica had wanted him to hear it. He just didn’t understand why.
At the front of the room, Mr. Fisher discussed supply and demand. Luke tried taking notes. His pen remained against the paper long enough to leave a dot of blue ink.
His phone buzzed inside his backpack.
For one hopeful, humiliating second, he thought Jessica might be taking everything back.
He didn’t check.
When the bell rang, students flooded the hallway. Luke moved with them, keeping his eyes on the floor until a familiar laugh made him look up.
Jessica stood near John’s locker.
John said something Luke couldn’t hear, and Jessica’s mouth lifted into a brief smile before she caught herself.
The familiarity between them was unmistakable now.
They weren’t two people discovering something new.
They were two people who had been together long enough to understand each other’s silences.
Luke turned down another hallway before either of them noticed him.
By lunch, he no longer trusted himself to sit with anyone.
Instead of going to the table he shared with Chloe and Jacob, he carried his tray to the far end of the cafeteria and sat beneath a faded poster advertising the spring blood drive.
He put his headphones on without playing any music.
It gave people a reason not to speak to him.
He stared at his untouched food and wondered how many people had known.
John’s friends probably had. Maybe Jessica’s too.
Maybe the entire school had watched Luke carry anniversary flowers through the front doors and felt sorry for him.
His stomach twisted.
He pushed the tray away.
---
Chloe sat across from Jacob, watching Luke from the other side of the cafeteria.
“He shouldn’t be alone,” she said.
Jacob opened a carton of milk. “Probably not.”
“You should go talk to him.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re better at knowing what to say.”
“I told him this morning that we all had something to survive today.”
“That was before his girlfriend admitted she’d been cheating on him.”
“Which proves I was right.”
Chloe glared at him.
Jacob’s expression softened. “He’ll talk when he’s ready.”
“He looks awful.”
“He just got dumped on his anniversary. He’s allowed to look awful.”
Chloe twisted a paper napkin between her fingers.
Jacob watched her for several seconds. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re destroying that napkin.”
She looked down. Small white pieces had collected around her tray.
“I’m going to talk to him.”
“That’s fine.”
“I’m going to tell him.”
Jacob went still. “Tell him what?”
“You know what.”
“No.”
“You just said you knew.”
“I meant no, you should not do that.”
“If Jessica already brought me into it—”
“Chloe, don’t do it today.”
“What if I lose my nerve again?”
“Then tell him tomorrow. Or next week. Or any day that isn’t the day he found out his girlfriend has been cheating on him for two and a half months.”
Chloe looked toward Luke.
He sat with his head lowered, one hand curled around his phone. She had loved him for so long that she could identify every version of his silence.
This was the worst kind—the one where he convinced himself that if he stayed quiet enough, nobody would notice how much he was hurting.
Jessica had noticed what Luke hadn’t.
Maybe Chloe had waited too long. Maybe every day she said nothing gave him another chance to misunderstand what she was to him.
She had watched him date Jessica for a year. She had helped him plan the anniversary because loving him had somehow become tangled with helping him love someone else.
“I can’t keep pretending,” she said.
“Then stop pretending later.”
“What if later never comes?”
Jacob lowered his voice. “Luke needs a friend today.”
“I am his friend.”
“Then be that.”
The words stung because they were true.
Chloe stood anyway.
Jacob leaned back in his chair. “This is a mistake.”
“Maybe.”
“It’s definitely a mistake.”
“I have to tell him.”
“No, you want to tell him. There’s a difference.”
She picked up her bag.
“Chloe.”
“I’ll make sure he’s okay first.”
Jacob’s face told her he didn’t believe that would be enough.
She crossed the cafeteria before she could change her mind.
---
Luke saw Chloe approaching and took off his headphones.
She sat across from him without asking.
“Jacob told me,” she said.
Luke looked toward their usual table. Jacob stared down at his lunch as if he wanted no responsibility for what happened next.
“How much did he tell you?”
“That Jessica broke up with you. And that there’s someone else.”
“John.”
“I’m sorry.”
Luke shrugged because accepting sympathy felt harder than pretending he didn’t need it.
“She said it’s been happening since before Thanksgiving.”
Chloe’s face tightened. “That’s awful.”
“She said everyone probably saw it except me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Did you know she wanted to break up with me?”
“No.”
“Did you know she thought there was something between us?”
Chloe froze.
Luke noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing.”
She placed both hands flat against the table. “What exactly did she say?”
“That whenever something real happened, I went to you. She said you knew what I needed before I did.” He shook his head. “Then she said there was already someone between us. Maybe not for me, but for—”
He stopped.
Chloe’s eyes filled with a fear he didn’t understand.
“For you,” he finished.
The cafeteria seemed to grow louder around them.
Chloe swallowed. “Luke, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Not again.
He had heard enough life-changing sentences for one day.
“Can it wait?”
“I don’t think it can.”
“Chloe—”
“I didn’t start loving you this morning, Luke.” Her voice trembled, but she held his gaze. “I’ve loved you for years.”
For several seconds, Luke couldn’t move.
Every sound in the cafeteria blurred into a single distant roar.
Jessica’s accusation returned to him.
Maybe not for you.
He looked at Chloe and saw seven years of memories rearranging themselves against his will. Movie nights. Late calls. Rides to school. Her head against his shoulder during his mother’s memorial service last year. The way she always remembered the dates he wished everyone else would forget.
The restaurant.
The flowers.
All the ways she had helped him make Jessica happy.
“You knew what today was,” he said.
Chloe’s face crumpled slightly. “Yes.”
“You knew I was supposed to be celebrating one year with her.”
“I know the timing is terrible.”
“You couldn’t give me one day?”
“I’ve given you years.”
The answer struck harder than it should have.
Luke stood so quickly that his chair scraped against the floor. Several nearby students turned toward them.
Chloe stood too. “Luke, please. I’m not asking you to say it back.”
“I need some air.” His voice broke, embarrassing him further. “And I need some time.”
“Please let me finish.”
“I can’t do this right now.”
He walked toward the cafeteria doors.
Behind him, Chloe said his name.
He stopped with one hand against the door and looked back.
She stood beside the table with tears streaking down her face. Every part of him wanted to return, to apologize, to make the pain disappear from her expression.
He couldn’t find his voice.
He mouthed, Sorry.
Then he pushed through the door.
Jacob waited in the hallway.
Luke didn’t know whether he had followed them or had been standing there the entire time.
“Luke—”
“Jacob, please.” He backed away. “Just give me some air.”
Jacob looked through the cafeteria window toward Chloe.
For once, he didn’t challenge Luke.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll stay with her.”
Luke nodded and walked away.
---
The nurse’s office smelled like disinfectant and peppermint gum.
Luke sat in a plastic chair while Mrs. Ellison filled out a form behind her desk.
“You said nausea and a headache?”
“Yes.”
“Any fever?”
“I don’t think so.”
She pressed a thermometer against his forehead. It beeped almost immediately.
“No fever.”
“My head still hurts.”
That part wasn’t entirely a lie.
Mrs. Ellison studied him over the top of her glasses. She had known Luke since freshman year and had met Daniel and Kimberly enough times to recognize when something wasn’t medical.
“Do you need me to call your grandfather?”
“If you could.”
“Are you safe to drive?”
“Yes.”
She continued looking at him.
“I promise.”
“All right. I’ll call for permission to release you.”
Luke pulled out his phone while she dialed.
He had six unread messages.
Two from Jessica.
Two from Chloe.
One from Jacob.
One from Kimberly asking whether Jessica liked the flowers.
He locked the screen without answering any of them.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Ellison handed him a dismissal slip.
“Your grandfather said you can go home.”
“Thank you.”
“Luke?”
He stopped at the door.
“If this headache isn’t the kind medicine helps, you can still talk to someone.”
He managed a weak smile. “I know.”
The hallway was empty when he left. Everyone else was still at lunch.
That was good.
He couldn’t bear to see any of them.
---
Luke drove home without music.
Every red light seemed to last too long, but when he finally reached the house, he sat in the driveway with the engine running.
The cab still smelled faintly of the flowers he had carried that morning.
He shut off the truck.
Inside, the house was silent. Daniel was supposed to be helping a neighbor repair a furnace, and Kimberly worked until four at the Grandieur Public Library.
Luke dropped his backpack near the stairs and went to his room.
The bracelet was still in his coat pocket.
He removed the velvet box and placed it on his desk. He thought about returning it, but the idea of explaining why made his chest tighten.
His phone vibrated again.
This time, he opened the messages.
Jessica’s appeared first.
I’m sorry. I should have told you before anything happened with John.
Luke read it twice.
It wasn’t an apology for what she had done. Not really. It was an apology for the order in which she had done it.
He closed the message without answering.
Chloe’s came next.
I know the timing was wrong. I wasn’t trying to make today worse. Everything I said was true.
He stared at the words.
Everything I said was true.
He opened the earlier message she had sent.
Please let me know you got home okay.
Luke typed, I’m home.
He deleted it.
He typed, I’m sorry.
He deleted that too.
Sorry didn’t answer what she had told him. It didn’t undo the look on her face when he walked away.
He read her message again.
Then a third time.
Jacob’s was the simplest.
I’m not going to push you. Call me when you’re ready.
Luke set the phone facedown on his bed.
A knock sounded downstairs.
The front door opened a moment later.
“Luke?”
Daniel.
Luke sat up. “I’m in my room.”
Footsteps moved through the hallway and climbed the stairs. Daniel knocked on the open bedroom door before stepping inside.
He had changed into jeans and a heavy work jacket. A streak of dirt crossed one sleeve.
“How are you feeling?”
Luke looked toward the window. “I’m not actually sick.”
“I figured there was more to it.”
“How?”
“You haven’t voluntarily left school since the eighth grade, and that was because Jacob convinced you the cafeteria pizza gave him food poisoning.”
“It did.”
“He ate four pieces.”
“He was building evidence.”
Daniel almost smiled, but it faded when Luke didn’t respond.
He pulled out the desk chair and turned it around before sitting.
“What happened?”
Luke rubbed both hands over his face.
Saying it aloud made it real in a way thinking about it hadn’t.
“Jessica’s been cheating on me.”
Daniel’s expression changed instantly. “I’m sorry, bud.”
“With John Kosh. Since before Thanksgiving.”
“That’s a long time to lie to someone.”
“She broke up with me this morning.” Luke looked at the bracelet box on the desk. “I had flowers. I had the reservation. I bought that.”
Daniel followed his gaze.
“I feel like an idiot.”
“You trusted someone you cared about. That doesn’t make you an idiot.”
“It feels like it does.”
“I know.”
Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And Chloe told me she loves me.”
That caught Daniel’s attention.
“Today?”
“At lunch.”
Daniel waited.
“I got angry,” Luke continued. “I told her I needed air and time, then I left.”
“That’s a lot to have thrown at you before lunch.”
“I hurt her.”
“You did.”
Luke looked up, surprised by the bluntness.
Daniel wasn’t cruel about it. He was simply honest.
“But,” he continued, “you also stopped yourself before saying something you couldn’t take back.”
“I asked why she couldn’t give me one day.”
“That probably hurt too.”
“I didn’t know what else to say.”
“You didn’t have to know.”
“She’s been my best friend for seven years. How did I not see it?”
Daniel rested his forearms on the back of the chair. “Sometimes the people closest to us are the hardest to see clearly.”
“That sounds like something printed inside a greeting card.”
“It probably is. Doesn’t make it wrong.”
Luke picked up his phone, then put it down again.
“Jessica said Chloe was always between us.”
“Was she?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Too immediately.
Luke stared at the bracelet box again.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe. Not like that. Chloe was just…there.”
“There how?”
“Whenever I needed her.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“And I was there when she needed me,” Luke added. “That’s what friends do.”
“It is.”
“You’re supposed to tell me what this means.”
“I can’t.”
“You usually have an opinion about everything.”
“I have plenty of opinions. That isn’t the same as having your answer.”
Luke lay back against the pillows. “I thought Jessica and I were going to last.”
“At seventeen, a year can feel like forever.”
“This morning you said a year was a big deal.”
“It is. Something can matter even when it doesn’t last.”
Luke closed his eyes.
He wished there were a way to know which choices mattered before he made them. Some way to see where each road led, instead of discovering the truth only after he had traveled too far to turn around.
“What if I chose wrong?” he asked.
Daniel didn’t answer.
Luke opened his eyes.
His grandfather had gone pale.
“Pappy?”
Daniel stood abruptly and walked toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To get something.”
“What?”
Daniel stopped but didn’t turn around.
For a moment, he seemed older than Luke had ever seen him.
“There was someone else in this family who asked that same question.”
Luke sat up. “Who?”
“My mother.”
“Nancy?”
Daniel nodded.
Luke knew little about his great-grandmother beyond what Daniel had told him. Nancy had been controlling, bitter, and skilled at making everyone around her feel guilty enough to stay close. Daniel rarely discussed her.
“What does she have to do with this?”
“It isn’t just her.”
Daniel left the room.
Luke listened to his footsteps descend the stairs, followed by the creak of the basement door.
Several minutes passed.
When Daniel returned, he carried an old wooden box beneath one arm.
It was slightly larger than a shoebox, darkened by age and marked with scratches along its sides. A small metal lock secured the lid.
Daniel placed it on Luke’s desk beside the bracelet.
Luke stared at it. “What is that?”
“Something my grandfather gave my father. My father gave it to me.”
“And now you’re giving it to me?”
“I haven’t decided that yet.”
Luke reached toward the box.
Daniel placed one hand firmly on the lid.
“Before I open this, you need to understand something. Whatever you see, whatever I tell you, none of it is a joke.”
Luke lowered his hand.
“All right.”
“I mean it, Luke.”
“So do I.”
Daniel studied his face, searching for something.
Apparently, he found enough.
He removed an old brass key from his pocket but didn’t place it in the lock.
“People spend their whole lives wondering what would have happened if they had chosen differently,” he said. “Most of us never get an answer.”
Luke looked from the key to the box.
“But you did?”
Daniel’s fingers tightened around the key.
“Yes.”
The room grew impossibly quiet.
Daniel rested his other hand on top of the box.
“Inside this are six lives you could have lived,” he said, “and one button that will always bring you home.”
