I thought about her waving goodbye at the airport. “I didn’t want to hurt her,” I said.

“You’re good to chart your own way,” he said.

“I don’t think so,” I said. Our disagreement was a formality, a game. I knew Dice would win, since I wanted to be good, to believe, to be saved. But—and the Ash Family was always this way for me, beginning to end—even if it was a game, it was more honest than anything else. I hadn’t told Isaac, my mother, or anyone else my true feelings about college. And Dice had gotten it from me immediately, with no effort at all.

I wondered if he understood me like a lightning bolt understands a rod, which is what Bay had said would happen. I wondered what that meant, exactly. If I thought too hard, the sense unraveled: maybe Dice was the energy, and I the metal that pulled him safely to the ground. Or maybe it was my job to wait all day for Dice to gather over me.

“Your life in Durham, your mother’s life, was unconsidered,” Dice said, a little heat edging into his voice. “She bought into the idea that more is better. More schooling, more exclusivity, more credentials, more more more. But you are special if you can see beyond that.”

I didn’t want to hurt her, I’d told him. I imagined how hurt she’d be if she heard Dice saying this about her. I imagined her in Durham, bending over in pain, as Dice’s words struck her like a spell. I shook my head, but I was blushing.

He watched me closely. “Let me show you.” He reached toward me—“May I?,” and I nodded—and touched the center of my forehead, spreading my brow, smoothing out the furrow. My eyes closed. His hand was warm. Dice withdrew his hand and I opened my eyes. “Have you ever walked through a forest on a summer evening?” he said. “Have you seen the does with their spotty red fawns in the tall grass?”

“I have,” I said.

“Good,” he said. “Listen closely. Like a guided meditation. You know that awakeness? The lightning bugs in sparkling array. Remember walking on a curving road at the peak of summer.” I pictured Hillsborough, its hilly old farms. “The plants are gently respiring, releasing all their dew.” He savored the words. I felt caught up in his delight.