“Hey!” Stevie said, answering her phone with a smile. My dad, she mouthed to me. “So I was thinking I’d take the six-ten—” She stopped talking and her expression changed, slowly morphing from excited to confused. I sighed as I walked over to the bed to join her. I knew what this meant; I’d basically been waiting for this shoe to drop since Stevie first told me her plans. “But I thought…,” she started, then bit her lip. I sat on the bed next to her, watching her face, silently cursing her dad in my head.

She caught my eye and placed her phone on my comforter, then pressed the button to put it on speaker. She didn’t have to tell me not to be quiet; we’d done this before.

“… just came up,” Mr. Sinclair was saying, talking fast, his words clipped. “I have to close this deal tonight and I can’t take the time. And I am sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.” Somewhere in the background of Mr. Sinclair’s call, I could hear people talking, phones ringing, beeps of incoming emails.

I closed my eyes for a minute, trying to calm myself down so I wouldn’t start screaming at Stevie’s father. But just for once he couldn’t have come through for her? To celebrate her eighteenth birthday?

“I get it,” Stevie said, voice determinedly cheerful as she swung her legs up underneath her. “These things happen—but why don’t I come in anyway? We can skip the reservation, and I can hang out in the office! We can get takeout and I’ll help you file. I’m great at filing, remember?”

Filing?! I mouthed at Stevie. She grinned back at me, clearly still thinking her night was going to happen.

“That’s nice of you to offer, hon,” said Mr. Sinclair, a little louder now, since a phone in his office had started to ring again. “But that wouldn’t be any fun for you.”

“It would, though,” Stevie said, her grin fading slowly, like someone had hit a dimmer switch. “It’s just been a while, and this way—”

“No!” Mr. Sinclair snapped, his voice loud through the phone, and we both froze. “If that goes out without me reviewing it, you can clear out your desk. I need to see this stuff, especially after the last time.…” There was a pause; Stevie stared down at the phone, waiting for her dad to return.

“I think…,” I started, but she waved me off.

“Sorry,” Mr. Sinclair said after a moment. “Why do they keep saddling me with these idiots?”

“So I’ll just take the train in,” Stevie said, talking fast, like she could outrun what was clearly going to happen. She sat up straighter and tucked her hair behind her ears. “And I’ll help or just stay out of the way.…”