In fact, Jessica realized, it had been exactly thirty days—he’d yelled a lot when the police had brought her home for breaking Bixby’s curfew with Jonathan. Maybe the end of the grounding was freaking him out and the concept of her being free to wander the streets of Bixby between the hours of three and 10 P.M. was too much for him. He wasn’t like Mom, too tired out from having to impress her new bosses to obsess over anything but work.

Maybe it was time to change the subject.

“So, Beth, how was band practice?” she asked.

“It was lame.”

“You used to like it.”

Beth turned toward the front of the car again and didn’t answer.

Jessica frowned, wishing she hadn’t made fun of Beth’s uniform. It was an old habit, from the days when Beth could take being teased without exploding.

Two years ago, back in Chicago, Beth had been a champion majorette. She could stick a three-turn every time and do a hundred thumb flips per minute, and she came home from camp every summer with tons of ribbons. But halfway through being eleven years old, she’d declared majorettes totally lame and exchanged marching band for being Ms. Social. Since the move down to Bixby, she hadn’t even unpacked her baton-twirling trophies. Jessica had found herself missing the little silvery majorettes lined up on their marble pedestals, just like she missed the younger, happier Beth of the old days.

But having made zero friends in Bixby had apparently changed Beth’s mind about majorettes. Maybe being in the marching band was a big deal at Bixby Junior High. Or maybe at this point she simply didn’t know what else to do.

Seeing Beth in a gaudy costume after two years was so strange, as if time had broken down completely this morning and was heading backward now.

“Listen, you want to practice together later?” Jessica said. “I mean, I think I’m allowed to go in the backyard.”

“Sure,” her father piped up.

“Yes, Jess, that would be great.” Beth turned around to face her again. “Because it’s so important to have an assistant while baton twirling.”

“All right. Fine. Just trying to be helpful.”

“And mature. Don’t forget mature.”

“I said fine.”

Beth kept looking at her, the gold piping around her collar flashing in the sun.

“What’s your problem?” Jessica finally asked.

“Why do you think I had Dad pick me up today?”

Jessica sighed. “Because you look so ravishing?”

“No, retard. I could have changed at school.” She dropped her voice. “It was because of you.”

Jessica shot a puzzled look toward the back of her father’s head. Was Beth talking about Jonathan? Since Jess had introduced the two of them, she’d figured Beth was on her side on the secret boyfriend front. At least Beth hadn’t told Mom and Dad about his late-night visits or how Jessica skipped out at night sometimes.

“What do you mean, Beth?”

“Just to make sure you know.”

“Know what?”