Plus, it will keep me out of the house on the Saturdays I have to spend at Daddy’s. Oh, I forgot to tell you: the judge decided that I’ll live with Mom during the week and Cole will live with Daddy. I still don’t know how I’m going to live without Cole, but at least we’ll be together on the weekends—first and third at Daddy’s and second and fourth at Mom’s. If there’s a fifth weekend, we get to choose where to spend it.

Anyway, it’s not like I’m still that mad at Daddy, but all he wants to do now is cry and apologize and explain the same things over and over again. It’s like listening to the same sad song on repeat. A sad song that’s not about to fix anything.

Pulling up to the house, I see Jordan’s Jeep in the driveway beside Daddy’s Tahoe. She beat me here. I had to beg her to skip ballin’ today to come over here to be my backup. Figure things can’t get too depressing with company around.

Walking up the driveway, I notice the magnolia tree is better. It has way less of that nasty white stuff on its limbs. Whatever the tree guy sprayed on it must be working. Makes me want to fish my phone out of my backpack and send Rex a pic, but I don’t.

Got his text this morning—Miss you—and I swear I could feel him whispering it in my ear. But I’m in such a good place with myself. Don’t know if I’m ready to risk that by starting things back up with Rex. Plus, I don’t know if I can ever really trust him again.

Jordan thinks I should give him another chance. I think her exact words were, Yo ass act like you’ve never messed up. And I haven’t even told her about his latest text yet. No doubt she’s about to give me a hundred reasons to call him back. I grab the gold door handle—warm from the sun—push the latch down with my thumb, and press open the door, already hearing some of the reasons.

Now I can’t hear anything. I can only see Shannon. Yes, old-enemy-new-sister Shannon. I know I told Daddy that we needed to get to know her, but I didn’t expect to come back today and see her standing in the living room. Cole is giving her a hug.

Cole lets go of her and they both look over at me. Daddy, standing beside them, looks at me. Jordan, half-swallowed by the sofa, looks at me, too. Everyone’s eyes are red and glossy like they’ve been crying, including Jordan’s. And Jordan doesn’t cry.

“Hey,” I say, feeling like I’m not even here, like this isn’t real.