I didn’t bother hiding my surprise. “Things” most likely meant alcohol and cigarettes, which was where his meager allowance usually went. “Really?” I asked. “You’d give up drinking to go see your dad?”

“Well, not permanently,” he said. “That’d be ridiculous. But maybe I could switch to something slightly cheaper for a while. Like… slushes. Do you know how much I love those? Cherry, especially.”

“Um, no,” I said. Adrian was easily distractible by wacky topics and shiny objects. “They’re pure sugar.”

“Pure deliciousness, you mean. I haven’t had a good one in ages.”

“You’re getting off topic,” I pointed out.

“Oh. Right. Well, whether I have to go on a slush-based diet or whatever, you’ll get your money. And that’s the other reason… I’m kind of hoping the old man might agree to up my income. You probably don’t believe it, but I hate always borrowing from you. It’s easy for my dad to dodge phone calls, but face-to-face? He can’t escape. Plus, he thinks it’s more ‘manly’ and ‘respectable’ to ask for something directly. Classic Nathan Ivashkov honor.”

Once again, the bitterness. Maybe a little anger. I studied Adrian for a long time as I thought about my next response. The hall was dim, giving him the advantage. He could probably see me perfectly while some details were more difficult for me. Those green, green eyes I so often admired in spite of myself simply looked dark now. The pain on his face, however, was all too apparent. He hadn’t yet learned to hide his feelings from Jill and the bond, but I knew he kept that lazy, devil-may-care attitude on for the rest of the world—well, for everyone except me lately. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him vulnerable, and it seemed weird to me that I, of all people, was the one he kept baring his emotions to. Or was it weird? Maybe this was just my social ineptitude confusing me again. Regardless, it pulled at something within me.

“Is that really what this is about? The money?” I asked, tucking my other questions aside. “You don’t like him. There has to be something more here.”

“The money’s a big part. But I meant what I said earlier… about my mom. I need to know how she is, and he won’t tell me about her. Honestly, I think he just wants to pretend it never happened—either for that reputation of his or maybe… maybe because it hurts him. I don’t know, but like I said, he can’t dodge if I’m right there. Plus…” Adrian glanced away a moment before mustering the courage to meet my eyes again. “I don’t know. It’s stupid. But I thought… well, maybe he’d be impressed that I was sticking to college this time. Probably not, though.”

My heart ached for him, and I suspected that last part—earning his dad’s approval—was bigger than Adrian was letting on. I knew all about what it was like to have a father who continually judged, whom nothing was ever good enough for. I understood as well the warring emotions… how one day you could say you didn’t care, yet be yearning for approval the next. And I certainly understood motherly attachment. One of the hardest parts of being in Palm Springs was the distance from my mom and sisters.