My palms are sweating as I make my way down the stairs. I don’t know why I’m nervous about talking to my parents about Adam but I am. The whole thing—this weird month of hanging out and becoming friends—has been between the two of us and no one else. I’ve talked to Dr. Bright about it but, I don’t know, it still feels special and protected and I’m afraid to disrupt that.

As I walk into the kitchen, feelings wash over me, momentarily drowning out the sound of my family’s voices. Mom is stressed but happy, Dad has got that weird little buzz that I think is, like, a writer’s high, and Alice is feeling … like there’s warm sunlight on her face. I pause for a second in the doorway, trying to figure it out. It’s not too bright or hot—it’s almost like the sunlight is coming from Alice instead of shining down on her.

“Hey, loser.” My sister’s voice cuts through the wave. “What are you doing?”

“Alice, don’t be rude to your brother,” my dad chastises as he puts some sort of casserole on the table.

“What’s up with you?” I ask, snapping out of it and moving to sit down.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“You’re all … warm,” I say dumbly.

“Alice got an A on her math final from last semester,” my mom fills in, and I feel the warm sun from her too. There’s something familiar about it and not just in the sense that my family’s feelings are familiar. I think I felt this recently from someone else. Suddenly, it snaps into place.

“Oh, you’re proud,” I say, the feeling coming into focus.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Alice asks defensively.

“No, nothing,” I say. “I just didn’t know what you were feeling.” I think back to this emotion coming from Dr. Bright and feel an extra layer of warmth from the idea that she’s proud of me.

“Sheesh, you couldn’t recognize pride? This family might have a self-esteem problem if you haven’t felt that before,” my dad jokes.

“Caleb?” I feel a spike of worry from my mom.

“No, no, I have,” I rush to explain. “I just don’t think I’ve really paid attention to what it was before. But, you know, it’s getting easier to sort through everything, especially with you guys.”

We’re all sitting at this point, comfortable in our dinner routine, but my comment brings the flow of emotions to a weird stuttering stop. My family is mostly used to my Problem by now but I think it still freaks them out when I talk about it. Probably a good time to change the subject.

“So, hey, um,” I start a little too loudly, “would it be cool if my friend Adam came over on Friday?”