He’s surprised and impressed as I tell him all about the aerospace engineering programs I’m applying to, and soon we’re discussing the differences in launch protocols for probes and satellites. Zoe’s dad listens to me like my dad used to, asks good questions, gives thoughtful responses. I almost fall down a rabbit hole of wondering if my family might have been like this if my parents hadn’t divorced, but I know this is not the time for that. This is the time to enjoy one of the best, happiest days I’ve had in years.

When we finish eating, Zoe’s mom gets up and takes off Jonah’s bib. “Sam, can you stay for cake? It won’t take us too long to clean up.”

“I can help,” I say, standing and picking up my plate. I’m accustomed to it. This is part of the routine. Then a little bit of panic rises as I second-guess my ability to help. What if the way my mom has taught me isn’t right? Do other people wipe their counters down twice? Are they as particular about how their dishwashers are loaded?

“I wouldn’t hear of it,” she says. “You’ve both done plenty. You and Zoe go on upstairs, and we’ll call you for cake.”

Zoe nods at me, so I say, “Thank you so much for lunch. It was delicious, and I . . .” I hesitate, choking up like the worst excuse for a robot in the history of technology. “I’m having a wonderful time.”

I glance at Zoe for reassurance because I’m pretty sure I’m coming off like a weirdo, but the smile she gives me is as gentle and warm as ever. Seeing it floods me with relief. She’s so patient with me. So understanding. She seems to like me in spite of all the ways I routinely fail to function. Every moment I’m with her, she helps me figure out who I want to be.

When we get to the top of the stairs, Zoe steps into the bathroom, saying, “You can go ahead — I’ll be there in a minute.”

Her door hangs open like an invitation, so I walk right in. The afternoon light filters through the windows, not bright enough to illuminate the room. I can’t help closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, filling my lungs with the now-familiar smell of Zoe. It’s sunshine and spring and hope and a longing so deep, I can’t find the bottom.

I wish there was a way to tell her how she’s changed my life.

I wish there was a way to tell her how I feel.

When I open my eyes, the answer is right in front of me.