Maybe someone else would say divorce. A lot of Will’s teammates had divorced parents, one of them with a real messy situation that involved court appearances and social workers, the mom and dad constantly trying to out-parent each other, even from the bleachers on game days. But Will knew better than to think his own parents would split. The Sterlings were devoted to each other, devoted enough that in all their secret, usually smiling looks for each other, in the way they sat close all the time, in their touches and kisses and whispers, Will sometimes felt like a complication himself. Like an unwanted dog or cat or goldfish.

An interruption.

“Hey!” interrupted a voice from above.

A girl’s voice.

A perfect voice, somehow, even from that short, everyday word. It sounded like a laugh at liftoff.

He turned his head up toward it—on instinct, in anticipation.

And then . . . a laugh that did lift off. It burst into the air above him, then trailed down from one of those balconies above like ivy, making his whole body go still, making his adolescent heart stutter-stop in his chest in a way it never had before. Later, much later, when he allowed himself to think about this day, this day on which almost every single thing in his life had changed, he’d remember that the girl’s laugh had been the only thing that had felt familiar to him in that strange backyard, with his never-before-seen uncle inside, with his mother secretive and sad and angry and scared. It’d felt familiar enough, welcome enough, that he’d forgotten—for that short space of time—everything else that was confusing about that day. He’d certainly forgotten, however shameful it was, about Caitlin.

“Hey,” she repeated, louder this time, another laugh following, and he pushed off the trunk of the tree, took a step forward to the edge of the canopy so that he could see her, or see what he could of her.

Be cool, he told himself, pushing his hair back from his forehead. He hadn’t known anyone on those upper floors would be able to see him where he’d been standing, but clearly—

“Get away from there!” she called, right as he stepped from the shade, and he stilled again. Disciplined twice in one day? That was certainly unusual, and this time he was even more confused about what he could’ve done wrong.

But then.

Then, he saw her.