He takes the bait, splashing me in his rush. I throw a towel around myself and sink back into the lawn chair, settling my sunglasses over my eyes. The sun beats down on me as Mom’s words from last night pound my brain. Willow, now is not the time for travel. It’s time to get ready for college. Have you read through the college prep books I left on your dresser?

I did read the books. The problem is that none of them have any tips for what to do if the mere thought of one more year of awkward silences between you and your mother makes you feel like you’re sitting in the center of a hornet’s nest.

The situation got so critical that I made the desperate move of texting my dad for backup. But all he responded with was a heart emoji and a quick Talk soon.

Not holding my breath on that one. Although my dad is the one much more likely to be up for me taking the unconventional route, at the moment he is also up to his literal eyeballs in toddlers. Any offspring that is not attempting to swallow small objects at all hours of the day naturally gets pushed to the bottom of the list, and even when he does remember to call me, he’s so exhausted, he can barely form full sentences. Which I get. People obviously have lives.

My phone begins to ring, snapping me back to the pool, where the boys now appear to be engaging in ritualistic hazing. When I see the name on the screen, I sigh in relief. Finally. I hit answer on the video call. “Night, Bea.”

“Morning, Willow,” she says. As transcontinental best friends, it’s our customary greeting. She’s sitting on the balcony of her family’s apartment. Behind her is the city spread out so dark and glittery, it makes the edges of my heart ache.

For a moment I consider not telling her, but of course Bea, being Bea, immediately homes in on my actual mood. “What’s wrong with your face?” she demands.

“Nothing is wrong with my face,” I say, doing my best to not be offended. Bea can be very blunt. “This is the way it looks. How was ballet?”

“Willow, something’s wrong,” she insists. “Your eyes are squinty and you’re fake smiling. What is it? Is your dad not answering your calls again?”

This is literally the only thing I can’t stand about Bea. Anytime I try to hide The Feelings, she insists on dragging The Feelings out. My dad and his family are spending a month in Australia visiting Chloe’s grandmother, who is not doing very well. No, I was not invited. Yes, that’s completely fine. I mean, yes, I was supposed to spend most of my summer with them, and Melbourne is high on my list, but those tickets were expensive.