“Then they’ll have to spend a whole lot of time and money fighting over us. Believe me, I’ve already asked Dad these questions. And a million more. We need to choose. And I think we should stay together. It’s one thing for Mom and Dad to get a divorce, but it’s a whole different thing to split from you, too.”

There’s my brother. There’s my Cole. “Me, too,” I say, feeling the agreement soothe the hurt a little.

“Right now, I’m thinking we should stay with Mom. I don’t like the idea of her being in the house by herself at night. Plus, we wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of switching schools.”

What about Daddy? I think. What about the way his eyes go sad when he’s alone? The way he can look scared even when he’s sitting on a barstool eating pancakes. “But you know Daddy needs us around,” I say. “Mom will be fine. She’s always fine.”

Cole stops stacking his black boxes of photos and looks at me. “Do you really want to switch schools?”

“No.” I feel lost enough as it is. I couldn’t imagine throwing the change of a new school into the mix. But still . . . Daddy.

I stand up and grab the photo box at my feet. “Look, I’m not arguing in favor of Daddy or anything.” In favor. The words taste greasy and bitter in my mouth. I hate them. I hate everything about this situation.

“I’m tired and I stink. Can we talk about this later?” Cole asks, and stacks another box.

“Okay,” I say, walking over to him. I place the last box on top of the six others. And before he reaches down to grab them, I reach out for a hug.

He hugs me longer than I usually let him. And when he tries to let go, I hold on to him and hide my face in the ripe funk of his basketball clothes, where I feel safe. Where I’m just a sister. Not the girl whose parents are suddenly splitting up. Not the girl who has to choose which one to live with. Not the girl who’s thinking about quitting the team, throwing all of her scholarship opportunities away, giving up everything she’s worked for her whole life, and having the whole team, her daddy, and her brother probably hate her for it. And for what? The girl doesn’t have a clue what to do with her life. Not a single fucking clue. I’m not ready to be alone with this girl.

I’m not ready.

I’m not ready.

I’m not ready.

Tears flood my face and I’m a 100 percent sure the ill-fitting girl inside me is going to explode.

“Everything will be okay,” Cole reassures me.

He says it three times, and I still don’t believe him.

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