“But what if Cassie wasn’t here? And Mom was relying on me?”

“But Cassie was here. And if she wasn’t, your mom would have rolled with it. Can’t be a performer for twenty years and not know a thing or two about adapting when things don’t go as planned.”

Claire and Cassie were entering into the final song of the act. Two women Delia had looked up to her entire life. Along with her dad beside her and Smudge at home, they made up Delia’s world.

Delia had an image of stepping onto that plane tomorrow and not being able to step off. Mountain View was as far from Littlewood as you could get without leaping into the ocean and letting the tide take you where it would and felt just as out of her control.

But Mountain View was a place that valued what Delia could do. Because Delia could code. She loved it almost as much as she loved the people surrounding her on this stage—these people who’d be left behind in Littlewood.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” she whispered.

Her father silently watched her mother, reached around Delia, and made the final lighting change. She wasn’t sure he’d heard her until he nodded.

“Hmm . . . maybe not. But you’ll wonder ‘what if’ every day if you don’t.”

Delia swallowed hard. Her parents met as part of a touring company. They settled down in Littlewood when Delia came along. They professed to never regret it. But their business was putting on a show.

She tugged on a curl that had an extra spring thanks to the messy bob Cassie had given her yesterday and twirled it around her finger. “What if I can’t . . .”

“Can’t what, Delia?”

“I don’t know. Can’t . . . do it.”

“Then you’ll find what you can do. There’s a role for every actor and for every actor a role.” He winked at Delia. “Just make mine a cinnamon. Ba dum tss.”

He then handed her a going-away gift—a necklace whose pendant was a small piece of circuit board.

Her throat tightened. She could see how tired he was; he’d worked so hard these past couple of months, traveling to Chicago to build sets for a couple of independent theaters to earn enough to cover what Delia’s ValleyStart scholarship didn’t. And still, he got her this.

“Description said it was perfect for fathers, sons, or your favorite tech lover,” he said. “Since you’re that last one for me, hope it’s okay . . .”

“It’s perfect.” Delia threw her arms around her father, and when Claire and Cassie hurried offstage, before either said a word, Delia brought them into the hug, inhaled her mom’s lilac perfume, and smiled.

FOUR

MEETUP • In-person meetings of online groups made up of individuals with like interests