But I didn’t want to think about football anymore right now. I breathed in Maggie’s fresh, floral scent.

“You ready for school tomorrow?” I asked.

“I don’t think anyone’s ready. This town is too screwed up. But it’ll be a good distraction.”

“Still, you like school,” I said. “So that’ll be nice, right?”

“I like learning,” she replied. “School itself is hit-or-miss. I’m looking forward to physics ’cause Dr. Carlozo is supposedly an awesome teacher. U.S. History, I dunno—I’d rather read the less official version.”

“Nerd,” I said with a nudge of my elbow. I’d been calling her that since first grade, which I realize isn’t too original, but by now it was tradition. The truth is I loved how smart she was. She always had something interesting to say about a documentary she’d watched or a book she’d read or the latest issue of Scientific American. For a while I watched Nova every Thursday night with her and her mom; she became emotionally invested in the plight of woolly mammoths the way others did in The Bachelor.

“I’m the nerd?” she shot back, sitting up. “You make Caddyshack references. ‘Lighten up, Francis!’”

“That’s Stripes.”

“I rest my case.” She smiled and leaned her head back again. I did, too. The stars were as bright as I’d ever seen them.

“Have you heard of something or someone called Ishango?” I asked.

Maggie wrinkled her nose. “No, what is it?”

I told her about my father’s odd behavior and how that name seemed to trigger him. “I’d google it, but there’s no Google.”

“Alas, we’re back in the Dark Ages,” Maggie said. “But I do have an old set of encyclopedias and can look it up when I get home.”

I smiled. “Thanks, nerd.”

She elbowed me in my surgically repaired ribs.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, wincing in pain.

“Oh, sorry!” she said, flustered. “I forgot.”

“Nah, I’m good,” I said, smiling. “It didn’t actually hurt; I was being a jerk. Just be glad I didn’t unleash some superhero moves on you.”

“Okay, Spidey,” she said, and took my hand. Nice. “Hey,” she added, “the homecoming dance is in two weeks. Will you go with me?”

“Ah … uh … dealio,” I stuttered. Smooth. Dealio? C’mon, Jordan! I was such a dork, always blowing it with this girl—but, wait, she was smiling and wrapping her arms around me and squeezing hard. Well, okay.

After nearly a year apart, this is what I’d wanted most of all. I slipped my hand behind her head and wound her hair around a finger. She leaned her face back and locked her liquid hazel eyes into mine.

“It’s a moment,” I said softly.

“Shut up.” She laughed.

Damn, she wanted me to kiss her. I could feel it. Everything since we got back to town had been so messed up, but now I was about to do what I’d dreamed about doing for most of my life. Her lips looked so soft, buttery, inviting, and they were inches from mine. I could smell a wintergreen Tic Tac on her breath—she must’ve sneaked it into her mouth when I wasn’t looking. I preferred spearmint, but still … I tried to process the moment, make it indelible.