“And you don’t mind spending a Friday night like this?” he asks.

“Because you know how rockin’ my Friday nights were back home.”

“Hey, you were a hard girl to pin down, which is why I had to wait until you were a million miles away before I could get you to have a date with me. Now, remind me again, what was Friday night in the Smith household? Arm Wrestling and Hot Pockets Fridays?”

“Ha ha. We’d watch a movie or some TV on the weekends.”

“Oh, so we’re keeping up with tradition, nice! What are the McMullens up to?”

I shrug. “Every night has been all over the place. Craig has some meeting or Paula has to take Sarah to one of her activities.” Whenever I’d sit down with any combination of people at this house, it’s all boring family conversations. Like, “How was your day, dear?” Nothing of substance.

I’m partly to blame for any stilted dinnertime conversations, since I haven’t been particularly forthcoming or chatty. I’ve started to shut off the part of my brain that feels. Every day this week, I’ve gone through ticking my boxes. Breakfast is done. Check! Up next, school. All so I can get to the end of the day, when I can add another star to my calendar.

I could put more effort into things. Join a club or make a friend, but that would just lead to more questions about “Allison Johnson.” There’s also a part of me that feels like I’d be betraying not only my friends back home but Dad, too. As if fitting in here would mean that he made a mistake for taking me away.

“Ally?” Neil asks, his brow furrowed.

“Sorry, zoned out for a second. I have something to show you,” I say, changing the topic, shoving any negative thoughts away. This evening is about Neil and me.

I flip the phone camera around so he can see the room. I walk over to the large dresser to show him a photo of him, Marian, and me that’s in a frame. Paula bought me some picture frames yesterday so I could make the room more “homey.” I went through all the photos in my computer and printed out the one with Neil and Marian, another group photo from Homecoming this year, one of Marian’s family in Door County, and one of Dad and me at Lambeau. When Paula came in later to see what I did, she was all smiles, but I could tell the photo with my dad upset her.

“I made the room!” Neil says with a fist pump. “So now you can look at all this anytime of day. I like it! Although I think a life-sized cardboard cutout might be even better.”

“Don’t make me turn the photo around,” I tease.

“Well, I’m honored. So, tell me about this scary, big school.”