“Please, call me Mr. Thompson,” my dad said. It was his favorite joke, despite the fact that I’d begged him to stop telling it. My dad was a journalist who worked from his office at home—so when he was dressed for work, it meant he was wearing what he wore now—an ancient cardigan over a Red Sox T-shirt, jeans, and slippers.

“What’s up?” I asked. I held up my candy bag. “Candy?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, crossing over toward me and picking out some sour watermelon slices. “Just wanted to say hi… see how you’re doing…”

“That’s nice,” Stevie said with a smile, a slightly wistful expression on her face.

“Don’t buy that,” I said, taking the candy back from him. “He wants to use us for research.” Since my dad was freelance, he covered a pretty wide beat, with the freedom to focus on subjects that interested him. Sometimes it meant that he was in Montana for a month, talking to fly-fishers. But unfortunately, at the moment, it meant that he was here and judging my behavior.

“Actually,” my dad said, sounding affronted, “I just wanted to see how the casting turned out. And only after that, possibly, ask you some questions for my article.”

“It’s not up yet,” Stevie said, coming back to sit on the bed.

“Monday,” I said. And then a second later, crossed my fingers on both hands, just in case.

“Well, good luck,” my dad said. “Not that you two have anything to worry about.”

“Dad!” I cried, leaning over to knock on the wood of my headboard. “Don’t jinx us.”

“What’s the article?” Stevie asked.

“It’s about technology,” he said as I sighed and scrolled through my phone again. I’d heard this spiel far more than I wanted to. “And our addiction to it, and how some of us are unprepared to deal with the world without it.”

“And apparently it’s also about shaming your daughter for her perfectly normal behavior.”

“Oh no,” Stevie said immediately, looking from me to my dad. “I’m sure he didn’t mean you, right? Just technology in general?”

“No, I was actually thinking about Kat specifically,” my dad said, reaching in for more candy. I yanked the bag away from him. “And how she’s never without that phone.”

“You’re never without your phone,” I pointed out. “Everyone everywhere always has their phones. Why single me out?”