I’m glad I can’t see his face and he can’t see mine. It’s much easier to make confessions or ask difficult questions under the cover of darkness.

“Wondering if you as a reality lived up to the fantasy?”

I can’t see his expression, but it sounds like he’s smiling.

“Yeah, I guess.”

His lips brush my hair. “It was better.”

I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

HOLDEN

My dad yawns as he approaches. His shirt is on inside out and he’s clutching the mug of steaming coffee like it’s something precious.

When he’s gone on a route, his sleep schedule is discombobulated. Returning home can involve a time change as well. Still, he does his best to be up when me and Sydney are, even if it means less sleep for him.

This is extreme, though. For both of us. I tossed and turned for an hour before getting out of bed and coming out to the driveway right as the sun rose.

“What’s your read on this Graham guy?” he asks, then covers a yawn.

I grin as I dribble. “Sydney told you about him, huh?”

Last night, I went to Finn’s place for an early celebration of Mark’s eighteenth. I was wondering if Sydney might say anything when I was gone.

I’m not surprised, really. She’s always been an open book with our dad. I’m the kid who keeps secrets.

My dad nods, then grimaces. “Sydney invited him over tonight.”

“Graham is a good guy. A little nerdy, but nice.”

He muffles his guffaw, but I don’t miss it. It feels good, laughing with my dad out in the driveway. He’s home for a little over a week. While I appreciate the freedom of having no parental supervision sometimes, I wish he was home for longer.

“What about you? Any girls catch your eye?”

My eyes flick across the street. It’s involuntary. Startling. I don’t think my dad notices, but internally, I’m reeling.

I’ve had sex with Cassia twice.

I’ve known her for over a decade.

Neither entirely explains how she’s become a pivotal part of my world. Why she’s the person I want to share good news with. Who makes bad moments feel better.

“I’m focused on basketball,” I say instead.

It’s true. I’ve made basketball a priority because it makes me happy. But it’s gained a new importance this year, a fresh elevation.

“I spoke to Larry last week,” my dad says. “Starting in May, I’ll be cutting back. Shorter routes and longer breaks.”

“You don’t have to do that, Dad. Chances are, I won’t get a scholarship. And even if I do, I don’t have to take it.”