She hit the ball back to Dylan too softly. He made a comical dive forward and popped the ball into the air. Hampered by amusement and poor athletic reflexes, she couldn’t get her paddle under it in time. The ball plunked to the earth.

She set her hands on her knees and laughed.

“You’re tragic at this,” he pointed out helpfully.

“I know. I’m tragic at every sport I’ve ever attempted. Take pity.”

“No pity.”

She fed the ball to him. He hit it straight back to her. Her return shot sprang up, and he had to do an acrobatic leap to knock it back. Her next shot went wide right.

He lunged and got his paddle on it. “Aim toward me!”

“I’m trying!” She hit another sky ball. He leapt into the air again but this time missed. He gave her a mock glare.

“You’re breathing hard,” she observed. “Is it taxing to play a team game with me?”

“The best athlete in the world isn’t in good enough shape to play a team game with you, Leah.” He served the ball to her again.

Thwap, thwap, thwap.

“Do trips like this make you miss Mom and Dad?” she asked over the sound of the ball. Leah brought their parents up from time to time so he’d know he could talk to her about either of them whenever he wanted to.

“No. I don’t even remember Dad.”

“Mom, then? It’s been a long time since we’ve seen her. It’s okay, you know. To miss her. That won’t hurt my feelings.”

“It’ll be fine when she comes for her next visit. But I don’t miss her.”

“She told me she’s planning to come for Christmas again this year.”

“’Kay.” He shrugged as if he truly didn’t care one way or another. The heart of a teenage boy was a difficult thing to understand.

“Have you thought any more about our dinner conversation last night?” she asked.

“What? About quesadillas?”

“About colleges.” They’d already visited four that fell within the overlapping parameters of her budget and his GPA and test scores. They had a few more to visit. So far he didn’t seem enthusiastic about any of them, and she couldn’t tell if that was because of his glum-colored glasses or because he didn’t want to expend energy writing essays and answering application questions.

“It’s too early to think about college,” he said.

“It’s the middle of July, and many colleges open applications in August.”

“Yeah, but applications stay open until December or something.”

“When do you intend to submit your applications?”

“December or something.”

She let the ball fall to the ground and put her hands on her hips. “If you apply early, I suspect that you’ll give yourself an advantage.”

“I don’t want an advantage. I’ll just wait.”