My dad nodded, and Jackson was gone.

“Dad, please don’t invite people out with us before asking me.”

“He was so pleasant and funny. I thought for sure you two must be friends.”

We weren’t friends. At all. He was annoying. My dad would soon find that out.

Only my dad wasn’t finding out anything. Twenty minutes later and he was egging Jackson on—laughing at all his jokes, asking him questions to expand on his stories. My sugar-free yogurt wasn’t distracting me well enough. Maybe I should’ve caved and gotten a few toppings.

“So then did he give you back your phone?” my dad asked after Jackson told him all about having his phone stolen at McDonald’s, then calling it and having an hour-long conversation with the thief.

“No. Do you believe that? At the end of the conversation the guy said, ‘I just arrived at the confessional. Great talking to you, man.’ Then he hung up.”

“So you made him feel guilty enough to go to church and confess but not guilty enough to return the phone?”

“I need to work on my skills.”

I took the last bite of yogurt and dropped my spoon in my empty yogurt cup, hoping the noise would clue them both in that I was done. “Maybe he’d heard about the time you hid Gabriel’s phone and made him go on a treasure hunt to find it. Your thief probably figured it was karma,” I said.

Jackson laughed, then looked down at his cup, which was mostly candy bar toppings now swimming in half-melted yogurt. He’d been talking so much, he hadn’t had time to eat it. “That’s true. Maybe he had.”

My dad clapped a hand on my back. “How come you haven’t brought this boy home before? He’s a riot.”

“Because we don’t really know each other.” I tried to say it polite enough so that my dad wouldn’t think I was being rude but blunt enough so that Jackson would get the message.

Jackson nodded. “It’s true. We don’t really know each other.”

I stood up. “Well, I’m done. We should probably get going.”

“I should go too,” Jackson said. “I have things to do tonight.”

We all walked outside together, and before we parted, my dad shook Jackson’s hand. “Good to meet you. You should come to dinner some time.”

“Dad, I’m sure Jackson is very busy.”

Jackson met my eyes, then nodded at my dad. “She’s right. Very busy.”

“Everyone has to eat,” Dad said.

Jackson laughed, then waved.

When my dad climbed into the truck and Jackson headed for his car, I opened the passenger door and said, “I’ll be right back.”

I caught Jackson just before he got to his car. “What’s your deal?”

“What?”

“Why did you come today?”

“Your dad invited me.”

“You could’ve said no.”