“Heavenly Father,” she prayed, head bowed and hands clasped, “please watch out for Tully Hart and help her through this hard time. Also, please heal her mother’s cancer. I know You can help them. Amen.” She said a few Hail Marys, and then went back to bed.

But all night she tossed and turned, dreaming about the encounter with Tully, wondering what would happen in the morning. Should she talk to Tully today at school, smile at her? Or was she expected to pretend it had never happened? There were rules to popularity, secret codes written in invisible ink that only girls like Tully could read. All Kate knew was that she didn’t want to make a mistake and embarrass herself. She knew that sometimes the popular girls were “secret friends” with nerds; like, they smiled and said hi when they weren’t in school or when their parents were friends. Maybe that was how it would be with her and Tully.

Finally, she quit trying to sleep and got up. Putting on her robe, she went downstairs. In the living room, her dad looked up from the newspaper and smiled. “Top of the mornin’ to you, Katie Scarlett. Come give your old man a hug.”

She plopped into his lap, rested her cheek against the rough wool of his shirt.

He tucked a strand of hair around her ear. She could see how tired he looked; he was working so hard, doing double shifts at Boeing so they could afford their yearly family camping trip. “How’s school going?”

It was the same question he always asked. Once, a long time ago, she’d actually answered, said, “Not so good, Dad,” and then waited for his advice or comfort or something, but no such words had come. He’d heard what he wanted to hear, not what she’d said. Her mom had said it was because he worked so many hours at the plant.

Kate could have been upset by his distraction, but somehow it had made her love him even more. He never yelled at her or told her to pay attention or reminded her that she was responsible for her own happiness. Those were her mother’s words; her dad just quietly went on loving her no matter what.

“Great,” she answered, smiling to reinforce the lie.

“How could it not be?” he said, kissing her temple. “You’re the prettiest girl in town, eh? And your mum named you after one of the great literary heroines of all time.”

“Yeah, Scarlett O’Hara and I have a ton in common.”

“You’ll see,” he said, chuckling. “There’s a fair bit of life still ahead of you, missy.”

She looked at him. “Do you think I’ll be pretty when I grow up?”

“Ah, Katie,” he said. “You’re a rare beauty already.”

She took those words and tucked them in her pocket like worry stones; every now and again as she got ready for school she felt them, turned them around in her fingers.

By the time she was dressed and ready to go, the house was empty. The Mularkey family bus had left the station.