The best one is a printed collage of a girl standing in a long T-shirt holding a bouquet of peach flowers over her face. In the background are planets, stars, a dog on its hind legs wearing a party hat, and the words dance to your own music . . . it’s your birthday. My birthday is not until November, but this card absolutely belongs on my walls next to the watercolor I did in art class last year. A bouquet of balloons high in the sky carrying a baby elephant—the only other mammal that knows how to dance.

At the checkout desk, the guy with the cute jacket asks, “Are you adding this to your mom’s account?”

I guess everyone in here knows who I am. “No, that’s okay,” I say. Mom and Daddy always stress the importance of me and Cole budgeting for what we want. Plus, I have plenty of money in my checking account. We’ve both had accounts since we were ten. That’s where Mom and Daddy deposit our allowance. And I like to see my money stack. I mean, I spend money on magazines and the occasional cute top or jumpsuit or whatever I find in thrift shops. But that’s it.

“You sure?” he asks, his bright blue-lined eyes looking confused.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I reply, and pull my phone out of my back pocket for Apple Pay. There’s a missed text from Rex asking how the doctor’s appointment went. I don’t even feel like thinking about that.

And there’s a missed group text from Daddy asking to stop by tonight. Mom has already responded with OK. Cole responded with My heart lifts and twirls in my chest at the thought of the whole family being together again. I can’t help but think it’s a sign that there’s still hope.

REX

Sitting in my pickup truck in the parking lot after school, heat on blast trying to warm up, I check my phone again. Still no response from my father. Took me all week to work up the nerve to send him that video Carli’s dad made. Each time I’d load the video into our conversation—where my last message, 1st game of season tonight at 7 if you wanna come, still sat unanswered—I’d delete it.

But this morning, I loaded it, typed, What I’ve been up to all these years, and quickly pressed Send.

When I checked my phone at lunch and he hadn’t replied, I added, Oh that’s my new girlfriend. She can ball too.

And after fifth period, when he still hadn’t replied, I texted, And she’s dope in a million other ways.