The painting was of a girl with straight dark hair, a long neck, dark eyes, a sharp nose, and a few faint freckles. Her expression made me feel sad and expectant and curious and nervous all at the same time. It felt just like when he’d done the manga drawing of me.

Next to the picture was a plaque that said:

GIRL WITH SECRETS

By Isaakios Kosta

“I don’t have secrets,” I said, ducking my chin.

Izzy shrugged. “I wanted a dramatic title.”

“I can’t believe you did another one of me,” I said.

“Yeah, well . . .” He looked super embarrassed, and I was, too.

My face burned. I fanned myself with my hand, shifting my weight, my new sandals pinching my toes.

“Do you want to go . . .” He tilted his head toward the hallway. “Get air? For just a minute? It’s pretty hot in here.” I could see beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Sure,” I said, turning to look around. No one was paying attention to us. “Should we tell someone, or just sneak out?”

“I say we sneak.”

chapter 24

It was almost eight; the sun was fading fast as Izzy and I made our way to the side of the library where we’d first eaten lunch together. I didn’t want to sit on the ground and mess up the dress Aunt Maureen had bought me, so we lingered near a shadowy tree that looked like it’d been here for generations.

Izzy leaned at first, one foot flat against the trunk, hands in his pockets, but his slick dress shoes made his foot slide back down. Standing up, shifting, he wiped his palms on his pants and then plucked a dandelion from the grass and started twirling it in his fingers.

I laughed quietly.

“I hate dressing up,” he said, laughing, too. Something rustled the branches above us; we both looked and saw a squirrel running away. “Watch out. They’ll poop on you.”

“Seriously?” I asked, tracking the squirrel’s movements.

“For real. My friend got hit twice in one day once,” Izzy said, laughing, reliving the memory in his mind. “He was so pissed.” He looked back at me, and our eyes locked. “It’s cool that your family came.”

“I know,” I said, nodding enthusiastically. “And they drove! That’s more than an entire day and night of driving! Not that they did it all at once. My mom said they stopped in . . .”

Izzy stepped toward me; my words evaporated.

“This could be like the last time I see you, right?” Izzy asked.

“I guess so.”

He took another step closer.

He’s going to kiss me, I thought.

Izzy’s face was inches from my face, closer than any nonrelative’s had ever been. He looked at my lips and raised his eyebrows in question. “Okay?” he asked.

“Okay,” I said, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it.