“No!” Will’s father banged his fist on the table. “Not going to happen.”

His mom shrugged. “It’s just a thought. But this is why we need a lawyer. It’s not just Princeton we have to worry about. We could be looking at big fines, and the possibility of restitution payments, if Will is convicted.”

“Did you do it?” his father interjected, looking Will right in the eye.

Will stared straight back at him. “Yes,” he said quietly. And then he said it louder: “Yes. I was there.” It felt good, after weeks of trying to pretend it hadn’t happened, to say it out loud. “It was just a party.” His father raised an eyebrow, but Will was on a roll. “I don’t know where everyone got the idea that I planned it, though,” he said. “It wasn’t like some scheme that I had. We just showed up with some beer.”

“You never think,” his father said.

“Do you always have to think the worst of me?” Will asked him. “You don’t know what it’s like. I have to work twice as hard as everyone else. It’s not enough that I got into Princeton. I had to get the scholarship too, just to be able to go, and work here every weekend. I can count on one hand the number of kids at school who have jobs. School is their job. So, yeah, once in a while I like to have some fun. Everybody does it.”

“So you destroyed a house for fun?” his father asked.

“No!” He paused. “I did it for Maddie.”

“I don’t understand,” Will’s mother said. “For Maddie?”

Will let out a deep exhale. “This guy was all over her. She was passed out. I had to help her, so I broke the window.”

Will heard his mother breathe in sharply. “Was Maddie hurt?” she asked.

“She’s okay,” Will said, even though he wasn’t sure if it was true.

“That doesn’t explain what you were doing there in the first place,” Will’s father said. “How did you get from one broken window to an entire house trashed?”

“I don’t really know how it happened,” Will admitted. “It was like everyone lost their minds.” After a moment he spoke again, his voice sounding small. “It takes so much energy trying to hold everything together. Maybe . . . maybe it felt good, just for once, to tear it all apart.”

To Will’s surprise, his dad was quiet. He looked tired and old. The skin beneath his eyes was papery and thin, and the edges of the Gothic lettering of his semper fi tattoo, peeking out from his shirt, were faded like old jeans. Will noticed how red and calloused his mother’s hands were as she awkwardly fumbled through the pile of papers in front her.