The doorbell rang and I slipped out of Cooper’s hold and stepped out of his room. It was a good excuse for a break.

The pizza guy was in the open door by the time I got there, giving Amelia some change.

“I thought I told you to wait for me,” I said to her.

“Oops,” she said, taking the pizza and shutting the door. “Sorry.”

I hip-checked her.

“You want some?”

“What kind?”

“Pepperoni and mushrooms.”

“Sure.”

She put the pizza on the table and pulled two plates from the cupboard. “I heard the fish painting is going to be in the show. I knew it would work.”

“I’m happy it did.”

“Do you think Cooper will let me come to the art show?”

“Yes. Of course. You’re all invited. Your parents can come too. It’s Sunday night.”

“My parents are out of town.”

“Oh, right. Well, tag along with Cooper. He’s bringing my mom for me too.” My plans for the night involved me taking Cooper outside anyway, away from everyone, to the overlook. Was I still going to be able to do that? Was he going to be well enough?

She took a big bite of pizza. “He’ll have to come get me at my friend’s house. My mom arranged for me to spend Sunday over there.”

“Where’d your parents go, anyway?” I asked, sitting down.

“My dad took my mom on some anniversary cruise trip for the weekend.”

“Fun.”

“She called. She’s seasick.”

“Oh. That’s not so fun.” I slid a slice of pizza out of the box and onto the plate that now sat in front of me. “And where was Cooper today?” I tried to ask casually, like I didn’t care. It was weird not knowing what he’d been up to this week.

“I guess he took Ris to some fish spa?” She said it like she didn’t know what that was.

“He did what?” I asked, mad that he wouldn’t do that with me but had stolen the idea to do with her.

“I know. Weird, right?”

“Yeah . . . weird.” I took a couple of deep breaths. I was not going to get mad. “Do you like her?” I asked.

Amelia shrugged. “She’s okay. She bakes a lot.”

“Yeah, she told me she liked to bake. That’s cool.”

Amelia leaned forward and lowered her voice, like Iris was in the next room. “She needs a bit more practice.”

A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it. Amelia’s cheeks went pink.

We each ate two slices of pizza before I threw my napkin on my plate and pushed myself away from the table. “I better go check on your brother.”

“He’s a baby.”

“Most of the time, yes.”

“Did he call you to come over here?”

“He texted me.”

“Huh,” she said with a small nod.

“What?”

“Nothing . . . he’s just a baby.”

I could tell I wasn’t going to get what she was really thinking out of her, so I left. Cooper’s shoulder rose and fell in a steady rhythm as I stared at him from the door. I let myself inside and gently placed my hand to his forehead. His head felt a lot cooler and I took a breath of relief. Hopefully this was just some twenty-four-hour bug.

I walked slowly around his room, looking at the things on his walls. I’d been in his room a million times before, so I’d seen them all a million times before, but I hadn’t really looked at them in a while. He had lots of pictures. For his birthday a couple of years ago, I’d bought him a Polaroid camera, the one that immediately spits out a low-quality picture. And there were tons of those, like a border, at eye level around his room. His eye level, not mine, so I had to stand on my tiptoes to look at them. So many were of him and me in various places over the years—beach, Taco Bell, dunes, school. There were some of the four of us too—Cooper, Justin, Rachel, and me. But they were mostly of just the two of us.

He’d carried that camera everywhere for a while, like it wasn’t easier to just snap a picture with his cell phone. “These ones, I can hold in my hands instantly,” he’d said when I told him as much. But gradually, he stopped bringing it places, and I hadn’t seen it in several months. That’s why the last string of pictures surprised me—him and Iris. Him and Iris on his quad, him and Iris at the beach. She made the wall. That was new too.

My hands started to sweat as I stared at those pictures. It was fine. It wasn’t too late. My plan was going to work. He’d chosen me the other day. He’d chosen me tonight. He’d choose me again.

But what if he didn’t? What if it was too late? I swung around and was almost to his door when Cooper said, “Abby?”

“Yes, what, huh?” I said, a little too loudly. I rushed to his bedside.

“I thought you left.”

“I didn’t leave. I’m here.”

“Good. I like it when you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“You’re my favorite,” he mumbled.

My shoulders relaxed. “I know. You’re mine too.”

TWENTY-NINE

I’d gotten to Cooper’s house at eight. It was now almost midnight—my curfew. He’d been in and out of sleep. We had several incoherent (on his part) conversations. I’d wet and rewet his rag tons of times. But now that his fever was gone and he was sleeping comfortably beside me, I could leave. An hour before, Amelia had come in and said good night. Everything was going to be fine. I needed to leave.

I lifted Cooper’s heavy arm from where it rested on my lap and got out of his bed. His phone sat on his nightstand. It was nearly dead—I’d heard it buzz its low-battery signal earlier. I plugged it into the charger so he’d have a way to text me if he woke up. Then I pulled out my phone and sent him a text.

Curfew. Had to go. Hope you feel better.

I lingered by the door. Why was I lingering? Why did I hope he’d wake up and beg me to stay? I needed to leave. So I left.

That night, I dreamed that I slept through the show. I woke the next morning in a panic before I remembered it was only Saturday. I still had a full day before I should’ve had a dream like that, but I was relieved it was only a nightmare.

I had two texts waiting for me on my phone. The first was from Lacey: You saw him last night. Avoid him like the plague today and tomorrow to counteract your weakness.

Yes, boss, I texted back.

The second was from Cooper: I heard I was a baby last night. Thanks for taking care of me.

So he didn’t remember? Is that what he was saying? I answered: You were. Does this mean you’re feeling better?

Much. Good enough for my quad and the dunes. You in?

Funny.

I thought you conquered that fear.

I faced it. Didn’t conquer it.

The next text that came through was from Lacey again: And don’t text him all day either.

I laughed and did just as she directed. I didn’t text him another word. He must’ve figured I was busy setting up for the show, because he didn’t text me another word either. I didn’t dwell on it (too much) because I was busy setting up for the show. I scrubbed so many baseboards and chair rails that day that my shoulders ached.