There is only one more meeting at the library before summer. Karen at their table, filling out a form. Her hair cut to the chin. I like it, he says. Looks rad. She smiles. Touches the shorn ends. Thanks. Deep breath. So. Almost free, yeah? She pushes a packet of papers in his direction. He flips through them—forms to fill out, things to sign, he won’t do any of it, but. Folds them into his bag anyway. Putting a couple of jars of jam on the table. I got Greg something. She laughs. Nice. He’ll love it. Yeah, I hope so. I made some for you, too. She takes the jar, thumbing the label, on which he has drawn a star. Why’d you cut your hair? Oh, she says. A change. Are you growing yours out? He palms his hair back; his bangs to his cheekbones now, the rest falling over his collar. I’m just lazy, he says. Glancing around the room, hopefully for the last time: the yellow wood glowless on the tables, construction paper flowers stuck to the windows, the formerly flourescent sun bleached near-white. What do you see yourself doing? Karen asks. After high school? P. bright in the corner of his eye. Remember. How it was. When you first brought him home. And how even this place, for a little while, was radiant. I just want to find a way to live, he says. Karen nods, looking at her hands. Me, too. A breath. Well, she says. Tell the girls hello from me. Maybe we can do something this summer. Get tea or lunch somewhere. Sure, he says. They pack their things. Get up to go. And, Xie? He turns. Yeah? Her eyes scanning his. Maybe you can tell me about your friend sometime. Xie not knowing what to say to that. So he just goes.

MacAdams calls, meets with his father. He has failed his junior year, but can attend classes at the school if he agrees to the following, etc., etc. Erik saying, You can write them a letter telling them you aren’t going back. Getting up from the table for more soup. Just let me know what you decide. It’s an effort to take a breath, to nod, to say, Yeah, I will. As if he is considering something when everything has been considered already, decided already. His father lifting the spoon to his mouth. The soup is delicious; he has become a good cook, in spite of himself. What have you been doing in the garden? Erik asks. What about the garden. Erik cocking his head. The sunflowers. They’re almost as tall as the roof.