“Uh, no,” I stammered, and Josh stifled his disappointment. “I’ve probably got most of it upstairs.” I hadn’t seen the list, but I had all my stuff from last year.

“I need a camera,” Nakita said suddenly, her voice worried.

“I’ve got one you can borrow,” I said quickly. “Don’t worry about it, Nakita.” She wiped her lips with a napkin. “I’ve never used one before. I don’t want to break it.” Nakita seemed genuinely concerned, and my dad laughed. “If it’s the one I’m thinking of, you can’t.” He put an elbow on the table and leaned in. “Madison used to be really rough on her cameras, but you can’t blame her.

She’s been taking pictures since she was four. How long have you been behind the lens?” Nakita blinked, surprised as she always was when my dad tried to include her in the conversation. My dad liked her, thought the quiet studiousness she showed him would settle me down. But I could probably bring home a biker chick and he’d ask her to stay for dinner, seeing it as proof that I wasn’t moping around upstairs by myself, or avoiding people, like I had been when I first moved up here. That I had two friends over for dinner had probably made his week.

“Not long,” she said, as in never, then added, “I’m not creative. I’m there because Madison thinks it will help me fit in.”

“At a new school,” I blurted.

“I’ll never be able to take pictures like Madison,” Nakita said.

“Yeah,” Josh exclaimed as he wiped the last of his sauce up with a scrap of bread. “Madison takes great pictures.”

“Ah!” my dad exclaimed, making me jump. “Everyone has creativity. You just need to stretch your muscles.

Madison’s been at it a long time,” he said, his focus going distant in memory. “She probably doesn’t remember it, but I used to take her with me when I’d go out to remote sites for samples. Her mother gave her a camera to keep her busy.”

“I remember,” I said, wondering if Dad would notice if I switched plates with Josh. I’d tried to throw out the photo albums of corners and clouds almost three years ago, but my mom had rescued them from the trash and hidden them somewhere. “I’ve got my old camera upstairs.” And seeing a way to get out of there, I stood, taking my almost-full plate in hand.

“You’re finished?” my dad exclaimed, looking up at me with a lost expression when Nakita followed my lead.

Josh blinked up at us, then snatched a last piece of bread as he stood, too.

Again, guilt hit me, even as I dumped the food and turned on the tap to rinse the plate. My dad had been really great since I’d moved back, making me feel wanted and yet giving me the space I needed. Dying and not being able to tell anyone had seemed to put a bigger wall between us than when we had been separated by a thousand miles.