“Hello,” says a voice detached from the scene. “You there, Mr. Anderson? Mrs. Anderson?”

It’s not until several hours later, in the middle of the night, that it occurs to me who’d called.

“Happy anniversary,” the voice said. “I know it’s technically not until tomorrow, but I just wanted to get a jump on—”

50

I drop my phone, then pick it back up.

To Autumn: Can we talk? Can I call you?

49

Autumn: I forgot these things even made calls, haha.

48

I nearly pee myself when Autumn taps on the window, and she laughs, smushes her lips against the glass like a Picasso smile.

I shimmy open the window, my heart thumping, banging against my ribs like an animal thrashing in its cage.

“Thanks for the heart attack,” I say as she climbs into my bedroom. She brushes herself off and I laugh. “You’re not a fan of the front door entrance anymore, or?”

She wags her head, grins. “I was being romantic. This was a shout-out to the old days.”

“You mean all those times we snuck each other into our rooms and got caught?”

She shoots me with a finger gun, winks. “That’s it.”

I frown. “Yeah, well, I’m starting to think that’s my whole problem. Clinging to the old days. That maybe the best thing you can do is leave the past behind.”

“Assuming this has to do with your one-day-only performance outside the after-school film club window?”

“You know?”

She shrugs. “Pretty sure everyone knows. People keep texting me to see if you’re okay.”

I groan. “Seriously?”

“You have to make it right,” she says softly.

“What if it’s too late?”

“You feel like you made your very best attempt today?”

I shrug. “Probably not. I mean, it happened so fast. It was all on the fly and . . .”

She nods. “So then there’s more work to do,” she says. “Doing the right thing isn’t only about Q forgiving you, J. You can’t control that. But when you look back next week, in ten years, whenever, you wanna know you did all you could.”

I know she’s right.

She taps the center of my chest. “The letting go you keep talking about? It’s not you letting go of your bad feelings about Q. It’s about you no longer blaming everyone else for your choices, for your actions. It’s about actually meaning all your I’m sorrys. Or better still, just stop hurting people, man. Stop running away. You deserve to be happy. We all do.”

And tears fall free, hers and mine.

And when Autumn leaves, I take a deep breath and dial Q’s number.

47

AUDIO MESSAGE to Q: I don’t expect you to text me back. Maybe you’ll never talk to me again. Maybe I’ll never get the chance to really talk to you.