I could hear how flimsy that sounded and wished that I had Touchstone’s gift of gab, or Ros’s charisma, or Phoebe’s confidence. But my mom, miraculously, seemed to be willing to accept this, at least temporarily—maybe because it was so early, or maybe because she knew I wasn’t ready to talk.

“Aren’t you glad to see me?” I said.

“I’m totally glad to see you,” my mom replied. She hugged me again—one hug was not enough; there had to be multiple. “I want to hear all about Lovesick. How’s Andrew? How’s Ros? Did you drop them off already?”

“They stayed,” I said into her shoulder, and on the second hug, Tabitha’s knowing face visible just over my mother’s shoulder, I felt it all at once: all the late nights at the theater catching up with me—the quick changes, burning myself with the steamer, the lonely nights at the Lily Pad. The stomachache I’d been battling since I left Lovesick Falls. How the summer had turned out nothing like I’d planned; how, in fact, it seemed to be the exact opposite of what I’d wanted. Instead of bringing everyone closer together, I’d managed to drive everyone away.

“They didn’t—” My voice caught, and then I didn’t know if I was crying or yawning. “They didn’t—they didn’t—they didn’t want to come.”

“Cece? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing—I’m just tired—”

I was fully crying then, like a baby, in utter collapse. It was like my bones had melted. My mom held me. I couldn’t believe what a mess I’d made of things. Sure, we could fix the window and sweep up the glass, and I’d spend the rest of my life paying for it, but the rest of it seemed totally impossible to put back together.

“Buckets is standing on my foot,” I said.

“He wants to help,” my mom said.

“It hurts,” I said.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m so upset.…”

“I think you should go rest,” my mom said.

I listened to her. It turned out sometimes, it was really nice to not be in charge.