“Let’s go to the diner the night I’m back,” I said. “Okay?”

“Hold on,” she said. It was quiet on her end for a few seconds; a calendar invitation came through for an event called Tater Tot Reunion in one week. I accepted it quickly, not believing the summer was almost over.

Frankie came back on the line and said three words before hanging up.

“See you soon.”

chapter 20

Izzy shot up into the air and dunked the ball on the way back down.

“I don’t know much about basketball,” I said, slightly out of breath, “but I think using a trampoline to dunk might be cheating.”

The force of him hitting the fabric threatened to send me flying; my knees buckled as I steadied myself. I didn’t want Izzy to see me lose my balance and fall into the net.

He laughed and threw the ball onto the grass. We bounced around in circles, him chasing me or me chasing him, it was hard to tell which. I’d been at his house since camp let out; Aunt Maureen had dropped us off. It was the first time I’d ever been to a boy’s house, and going into the second hour, I was still so nervous I felt like I might pee my pants every time one of us bounced. Still, I loved it.

“This thing is so cool,” I said. “I wish I had a trampoline in my backyard.”

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

“Don’t you have the ocean in your backyard?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it’s not as fun,” I said. “I mean, it’s different. This is like predictable fun.”

“Want to see me do a backflip?”

“As long as you don’t kick me in the face.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he said, moving to the center while I got as far away from him as possible. He bounced one, two, three times, then flew up high and flipped, landing steadily on his feet.

I clapped, and we resumed jumping in circles.

“Your project is cool,” Izzy said. We’d done mixed media that day at camp. It hadn’t been my favorite, but I’m not sure if that was because of the art style or the fact that time was running out on me understanding anything that had happened this summer.

“I like how you painted over the book page,” Izzy said.

“Yours was better,” I told him. “I’ve never seen a supervillain made from found objects before.”

“It was weird.” He looked embarrassed.

“It was creative!”

“That’s teacherspeak for weird.” He laughed. “You probably think all I think about is superheroes.”

“I don’t,” I said, even though the thought had crossed my mind.

We were quiet for ten jumps—I counted. Then Izzy said, “I’m thirsty. I’ll go get us some water.”