Chapter Six

chapter six

FRIDAY I’M EXCUSED FROM MOST OF MY CLASSES SO I CAN MAKEsure everything is ready the moment the winter carnival opens at three, when school gets out. The rest of the student council is out, too, and they help me move in the vendors and clubs, making sure no one ruins the overall aesthetic.

“Taylor, can you help the culinary club with their decor? I appreciate the use of red and green peppers but it’s taking away from the overall look.”

She nods and takes off.

“Harrison, why don’t you help the cheerleaders out, they’re having trouble filling the dunk tank.”

“I can go, too,” Robert says. “The hose is bent, so they might need—”

“No, you need to be at your own booth for the environmental club. Your giant whale prize is sticking out over the edge of the booth—someone is going to bump into it. Maybe with ice cream.”

“Oh!” Robert says, seeing I’m right and running to the booth.

“Okay,” Miles says, walking toward me. “The Fair But Frozen Maid truck is perfectly placed, we didn’t knock over the tree, and I draped some twinkle lights around the window.” He stands next to me, surveying the scene. “It looks really good. I’m impressed you got so much done without me.”

“Oh, how could we ever?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “Without your wisdom.”

“I just meant I’m sorry I couldn’t help. But you did a great job.”

I raise my chin slightly, pleased at the compliment. “No need to be sorry. Seeing your mom again is way more important than setup. I know you missed her.”

It hangs there a second too long. Missed moms. I blink.

“Well, thanks,” he says finally. “And she really wants to see you, too. We were kind of hoping you’d stop by last night, maybe.”

“No,” I say. “That was your time.”

“Well, thanks,” he says, and then, strangely, reaches out and squeezes my shoulder with affection. “And really… it’s amazing, Emmett. I didn’t mean I’m surprised you did it so well without me. I just meant… this is better than even I imagined it. You’ve outdone yourself, and you already set such a high standard.”

I turn to him, my eyebrows arched. “What is with you today? Compliments?”

“I just—” He’s smiling wide but stops himself, shaking his head. “I think I’m just really glad my mom is home.”

“Well, all right, but this is creeping me out, so please get back to normal Miles ASAP.”

“I’m not that different,” he says, laughing. “Only you would take a compliment and make it so it was somehow an indication that there’s something going on with me.”

“There he is,” I say, satisfied that the old condescending Miles is still in there.

“Uh-huh.” He shakes his head. “I’m going to go check that the fried dough booth has a fire extinguisher, just in case.” He walks off and I watch everyone put the final touches on their booths. I’m not running any specific booths today, just making sure everything runs smoothly, but I see some of the other council members wandering to their places. I check my watch. Nearly three.

The string quartet shows up—of course I hired them for this—dressed in black, and takes their place to one side of the carnival, on a miked stage. They start playing holiday music, beginning with “Frosty the Snowman.” Now it’s ready. All that’s missing is real snow.

I go to the entrance, a beautiful faux-snowy arch, and the ticket booth, which one of the juniors is running. Already there’s a line of kids from the local middle schools, but she’s waiting for me to signal her before I let them in. I look back at everyone else.

“Everyone ready?” I shout.

People shout back variations of yes, so I turn and nod to the ticket-seller. The winter carnival has begun.

The first hour or so is mostly about the smaller kids, but some high schoolers show up and start wandering around, too. No one throws up for the first sixty-two minutes, which I think is a record, but of course some seven-year-old had to have too much fried dough and then get on the Twister. I let one of the freshmen on the student council clean it up.

“Emmett!” I turn around and my father is at the ticket booth. He pays and comes in and gives me a hug. He’s in a blue cardigan and jeans, and he’s looking around nervously. “This is beautiful, Emmett. I wish there were more flowers, but I guess that’s not very snow-themed.”

“There are actually snowdrops woven into garlands and wrapped around the fences on every ride,” I say, pointing.

“Oh.” He smiles and puts his arm around my shoulder, squeezing. “Your mother loved snowdrops.” I know, but I don’t say anything for a second. “Where’s poor Taylor?” he asks. “I want to tell her how the lilac is doing, even if she hasn’t come by in a while.”

“She’s working the health booth,” I say, pointing to the booth at the corner. West and Taylor are running it currently, but no one is at the booth, so they’re stealing a kiss. As I point, a small child goes running past, knocking into the bowl of condoms they have on the counter. It goes flying and the condoms rain down around the pair of them like flower petals. Condoms now? “This is ridiculous,” I mumble.

“What?” Dad asks.

“I said, you should go say hi, but be nice to her boyfriend.”

“I will,” Dad says, nodding. He’s already moving toward them, far away from me. I’ll let him go. I have so much to do anyway.

I look at my watch again. The cheerleader dunking booth will be switching out soon. I turn away from the entrance and head toward the environmental club booth, which Harrison has been running. He’s selling raffle tickets for the giant stuffed whale.

“Hey, Emmett, you want a raffle ticket?” he asks as I approach.

“Sure,” I say, offering him the cash. He takes it and hands me a ticket back.

“Isn’t it so cute?” he asks, looking at the giant whale plushie. “I bought like twenty tickets I wanna squish it so bad.”

I stare at the whale. It stares back. “Sure. Hey, you have someone else that can take over? I want you to walk the fair with me, checking to make sure everything is in order.”

“Um…” He looks behind him and nods at a sophomore, who nods back. “Okay, I guess.” He comes out from behind the booth and follows me as I walk toward the dunking booth. “You don’t really need me for this, though, do you? I mean, I like walking with you… but everything is going perfectly, so why—” He stops as Clarke appears, sauntering toward the dunking booth in just a pale pink Speedo. “Oh.”

“Hey!” Clarke says, running up to us. “This is so perfect,” he says. “The decor, the arrangements, it’s the best carnival in years.”

“Thank you,” I say, beaming. “Harrison helped a lot.”

“Ohmigod, you are amazing,” Clarke says to Harrison. “The whole council is.”

“Um, thanks,” Harrison says. He’s turned the same shade of pink as Clarke’s Speedo.

“Are you blushing because I’m in just my bathing suit?” Clarke asks, grinning wickedly. “You know I dance in it on my KamerUhh videos.”

“I know,” Harrison says, smiling nervously. “I guess I just didn’t expect to see it… in the flesh.”

“The flesh?” Clarke grins wickedly. “Wait till you see me get wet. If you can hit the target, I mean,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows before walking past us to the dunking booth, hips swaying. It’s his turn, and he replaces Alicia on the board above the tub of water, his toes dangling into it.

“C’mon!” Clarke shouts. “Try to get me wet.” I can’t tell if he’s shouting it at Harrison, but it feels like he is.

“Well,” I say to Harrison, “you heard the man. Go.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You have to throw the ball and hit the target and I think I’ll just embarrass myself.”

“It’s from like three feet. Cupid’s arrow will guide the ball, I promise,” I say, gently shoving him toward the booth. He lines up behind a few others and buys his balls. He misses on the first two, but the third one hits (thank god, failing at this would not be sexy) and with a whoop and a splash, Clarke falls in.

He climbs out of the water and the Speedo clings in ways I find myself staring at before turning away. After all, he’s for Harrison. Harrison, who is also staring.

“Sorry,” Harrison calls out.

“What for?” Clarke shouts back. “I was getting kind of hot.”

Harrison blushes furiously, and I have to lead him away; otherwise, he’ll just be staring all day.

“I think he was flirting with me,” Harrison says.

“He was totally flirting with you.” I pat him on the back. “You’re hot, you’re funny, people want you. I told you that.”

“I guess I didn’t believe it. I should probably get back to the environmental club, though. I’m technically on duty now.”

“Sure, I just didn’t want you to miss your first opportunity to get Clarke all wet.”

“You’re terrible,” he says. “But thanks. I know I wouldn’t even be dreaming of dating Clarke if not for you.”

“What are friends for?” I ask. We’re at the environmental club booth, but at the entry gate, I can see Miles and his moms. “I better go. I see someone I need to talk to,” I say, and pat Harrison on the back before running up to them. Priyanka screams and swoops me into a giant hug. She smells like a hospital, antiseptic with a touch of rose perfume to cover it, and it’s weirdly reassuring. I missed her, I realize. I know not as much as Miles did, but I missed her a lot. She was Mom’s best friend since they were teenagers, they worked together for years, and seeing her isn’t like seeing Mom again, but it’s like having a good memory of Mom. A strong one that makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time as I squeeze her tightly. They used to do their sorority cheer together, a chant with some high kicks they’d struggle with, and Priyanka’s voice reminds me of that. Of Mom’s voice.

“Missed you, Em,” she says, letting go. “Miles said this carnival was your baby.”

“It was both of us,” I say. “All of the council, really. I just…”

“Took control?” Miles offers. He says it almost cutely, which somehow makes it more condescending than usual.

“Only so you had time to see your mom,” I tell him.

“I know.” He grins, genuinely. “Thanks for that.”

“I will also thank you for that, but you should have stopped by, too,” Priyanka says. “Jasmine was making that pasta your mom used to love.”

“Gnocchi al limone,” Jasmine says. “With capers.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt family time.”

“You’re family, too, honey.” Priyanka wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Now show me this carnival. Miles said there’s some special ice-cream truck?”

“Right there,” I say, pointing.

“Priyanka!” my dad says from behind us. We turn and she gives Dad a big hug.

“We’re getting ice cream,” she says to him. “Come on.” She offers him her arm, but he looks nervous.

“Ice cream?” Dad says, his voice a little concerned.

“It’s the good stuff,” Jasmine says.

“I’m a doctor, and I’m insisting on it,” Priyanka says. They each link arms on either side of him, Wizard of Oz style, and point him at the Fair But Frozen Maid truck. He smiles a little. Miles comes up next to me as we follow them to the truck. He cracks his knuckles, a classic sign of nervousness in him, so I look him up and down, but he just smiles, looking up the ice cream menu on his phone. The line is practically wrapping around the whole festival, so while we wait, Priyanka tells us about her year abroad—scarce medical equipment, disease outbreaks, and food she’d never tried before that she now wants Jasmine to replicate. How it was rewarding, but she missed everyone. She squeezes my arm a lot.

“You look so much like your mom,” she says at one point, and I’m quiet, because I don’t know what to say to that.

When we get up to the ice-cream truck, we each order—I get the orange hibiscus dark chocolate chip—and then take our cones (or in Dad’s case, cup) and wander around the carnival, playing games—I win the balloon race, but Dad beats us all in Skee-Ball. At the dunking booth Miles lands a perfect hit and Alicia falls in a little sideways and the splash bounces off the side of the tank and above the rim, sprinkling water down on Jasmine and Priyanka, who laugh and kiss, looking at each other so in love it feels farcical. This people kissing with things falling on them is becoming a bit much, honestly. And finally, the rides! We start with Dad’s penguin ride, a gentle up-and-down loop surrounded by round fluffy penguin statues that flap their wings as you bounce past. Dad laughs with delight the whole time. Then we go on the death drop one together, all getting strapped onto a platform with walls, which suddenly plummets to the earth, then is pulled up again, then down—up and down. We scream and laugh, and my heart feels like it’ll burst out of my mouth with every bounce. Miles looks at me as we plunge back down, his hair flying up, his eyes wide, screaming, and I scream back, and for a moment it feels like old times, when we were best friends, and then we bounce up again and I remember that I don’t really like him anymore, and he doesn’t really like me, either, but decide to let that go, and remember being friends.

“We should have done ice cream after that,” Priyanka says when we get off the ride.

“We can do more ice cream now,” I suggest.

“I think one ice cream is enough,” Dad says, his voice worried again.

Priyanka puts her hand on Dad’s shoulder and squeezes it. “It’s just ice cream, Henry,” she says. I forgot how she used to do this after Mom died. How she was there to reassure him the way Mom had been.

“Elevated blood sugar can lead to diabetes, which can lead to pancreatic cancer,” Dad says. “I read about it.”

“In a reputable medical journal?” Priyanka asks. Dad won’t meet her eye. I look away, surveying the rest of the festival. “The information isn’t exactly wrong, but it’s not exactly right, and it’s presented in a way meant to excite and scare, so”—I spot Harrison at the environmental club booth, but he’s standing in front of it. Robert is behind the counter, pulling a ticket out of a plastic fishbowl, an actual bowl shaped like a fish—“you need to read the actual articles and talk to a doctor. No one here has elevated blood sugar, do they?”

“I don’t know, Emmett hasn’t let me take his blood in weeks.”

I feel Miles’s eyes on me. “You okay?” he asks.

“Take his blood?” Priyanka asks.

“Just…,” I say. I watch the scene unfold as I hear Priyanka and my dad still talking behind me. Robert draws out a raffle ticket and puts the plastic fishbowl down on the counter, its edge hanging off the side. Starts reading the name. Harrison smiles, then jumps. But then I spot the same small cherubic child who knocked the bowl of condoms running, laughing, smiling, and blissfully unaware of their own physical space, which is about to come into direct contact with the crowd around the raffle. Oh no. I run for them.

“Emmett?” Miles calls. But I leave him behind. Robert is handing Harrison the giant stuffed whale, and Harrison is reaching out to take it, but here comes that child knocking the fishbowl into the air, and all the raffle tickets go flying up, about to rain down—

“Wait,” I say, pulling Harrison back. I got there in time. The raffle tickets fall to the ground, around Robert alone, just making a mess. I’ve seen enough of things falling down around people lately that I know what it does to them, and Robert and Harrison should not be the ones to experience that. Clarke and Harrison should be.

“What?” Harrison says, confused. He turns and looks at me. “Emmett?”

“Sorry,” I say, realizing I have to make up an excuse. “I thought I saw a kid with ice cream about to run into the whale, but he swerved.”

“Oh.” Harrison laughs, then turns back to Robert and takes the whale and gives it a big hug. “I won! Isn’t it so cute!”

“It is,” I say. “You should go show Clarke. He just finished his second shift at the dunking booth.”

“Oh yeah,” he says, hugging the whale tightly, his eyes wide. “Maybe he can help me name him.”

“That’s a great idea,” I say, genuinely impressed.

“Emmett!” I turn around. Jasmine is waving for me to come back.

“I gotta go,” I say. “Have fun.”

I walk back to Jasmine, Miles, Priyanka, and Dad.

“Who was that?” Jasmine asks. “Boyfriend?”

“Emmett doesn’t date!” Dad says quickly, maybe too loudly, as a few people stop and stare. “He knows better than that.”

“It’s fine if he dates and uses protection, Henry,” Jasmine says, reaching out and squeezing Dad’s hand. “If he’s even having sex.”

“He’s just a friend,” I say, my face feeling hot. “I’m setting him up with someone else, in fact. Let’s go see the ring toss!” I point and thankfully they all start walking, ice cream, syringes, and sex lives forgotten. But Miles hangs back with me as we walk.

“You pulled him away pretty quick,” Miles says. “Worried about something?”

“You’ve seen how romantic it’s been around here. Things falling on people in artistic romance-novel-cover ways. It’s ridiculous is what it is. Something in the weather maybe.”

“The weather?”

“Well, what else could it be?” I ask, gesturing in front of me in exasperation. He shrugs. I take a breath. “In any case, I didn’t want anyone getting confused by a moment with raffle tickets raining down, pretty and…”

“Romantic?” Miles asks. “You wanted to stop a romantic moment?”

I put my hands on my hips, trying to find words. “An incorrect romantic moment,” I say.

Miles laughs. He’s so insufferable. “You’re so keen to get everything right,” he says, shaking his head. “Sometimes you have to just let stuff happen.”

“I’ve already told you: Life is messy. I keep it neat. Otherwise—”

“Yes, I know, I know, lovers, friends, romance, all from the same pot, and you don’t want to get your heart broken by falling in love before twenty-five.”

“You make it sound so trivial—it’s not about not wanting my heart broken. It’s about avoiding pain because—” I glance at my dad, who’s eyeing the sex education booth again, looking suspicious.

“Emmett,” Miles says. “Come on, that’s not the same.”

“What’s not?” I ask.

He looks at me in silence and I stare back, my chin raised a little.

“Hey, guys!” We’re at the ring toss, and of course Georgia is running it. This was supposed to be my solace. I should have memorized her schedule to make sure this didn’t happen. She’s standing behind the counter in front of all the pegs on a board you need to toss a small ring onto. Above her, hanging like curtains, are strings of small stuffed animals, including several of our school mascot, Helena the Highbury Hippo, who wears the full blue-and-yellow uniform (pants, not skirt) and a big matching bow around her neck in lieu of a tie.

“Hey, Georgia. These are my moms and Emmett’s dad,” Miles says.

“How’s it going so far?” I ask.

“We’re really raking it in,” she says. “Your idea to have gift cards as prizes has attracted a much older crowd than last year. I mean the little ones still play for these stuffed toys, but teenagers and adults are playing for the gift cards.”

I smile. I was proud of that idea. “Excellent,” I say. “But I will be playing for one of the Helenas, as I want to take one with me next year to Stanford.”

“All right,” she says. “Five bucks for five rings. You need to get all five for a big Helena, but only three for a small one.”

Jasmine claps her hands. “You got this, Emmett,” she says.

“Sophomore year, John got five in a row,” Georgia adds. I try not to scowl, and throw the first ring. It wraps soundly around the mouth of a bottle, hula-hooping for a moment before falling.

“YES!” Jasmine shouts. I smile. It wasn’t the bottle I was aiming for, but no one needs to know that. I toss another, and it goes exactly where I want, wrapping around another bottle. Jasmine claps. The third bounces off the bottle I was aiming for but then falls around the one next to it.

“That’s three!” Georgia says. “You can have one of the small Helenas. But if you get the next two you get a big one! And I get to tell John someone tied him.”

I smile and shake my head. “A little one is all I need, thank you.”

“Oh come on,” Miles says. “You have two rings left. Better to just use them, right?”

“Go for it!” Jasmine shouts.

“Honey, it’s just a game,” Priyanka says.

“If I have what I need, I don’t need to try for more and lose,” I say. “Especially not if it means Georgia is going to make it into a whole John comparison,” I add in a whisper to Miles.

“Can I use them, then?” Miles asks. “If I get the last two, it’s still five rings, right?”

“Um… I guess so?” Georgia shrugs. “I mean, technically you two are in charge, so… you can just take one.”

“No, we can’t,” I say. “And I don’t know about the rings, either. Shouldn’t it all be—”

But before I can finish my sentence, Miles has picked up a ring, tossed it in the air, and caught it, showing off, and then looped it around a bottle in the front row.

“Four,” he says, taking the final ring. “Last one. If I get this, you get to bring one of those big Helenas to your dorm room.”

“All right,” I say, rolling my eyes. “As long as this isn’t just a ploy so you can go around telling people you won me a giant Helena.”

“Oh,” Miles says, tossing the ring up and catching it again, “that’s exactly what it is.”

He tosses the final ring, and it hits the side bottle, bounces high, and then impossibly lands directly over the mouth of the centermost bottle.

“YESSSSS!!!!!” Jasmine shouts, jumping up in the air.

“Way too into this,” Priyanka says.

“That ring could have bounced off the bottle and taken someone’s eye out,” Dad says.

I sigh as Georgia gets down one of the larger Helenas. She looks back and forth between me and Miles. “I don’t know who to give this to.”

“Here,” Miles says, taking it and then handing it to me. “Look what I won you!”

“I got three of those rings,” I say. “I won this more than you did.”

“Fine.” Miles laughs. “You won it.”

“You helped,” I concede, taking the Helena. “Thank you. She’ll look excellent in my dorm room.”

“You have a whole plan for the room already?” he asks.

“No, no,” Dad interrupts. “I’ve been terrible—we haven’t gone shopping at all. I want to get him a mini-fridge big enough for a large pitcher, one of the ones you just leave the green tea in overnight to diffuse. Probably two of them. And we need to find the perfect first aid kit.”

I make myself smile. “We will, Dad. I know we’ll find the perfect one.”

“Oh, anything can be a first aid kit,” Priyanka says. “We use one of my grandma’s old sewing boxes.”

“No, no, no,” Dad says. “Top of the line only.”

“We’ll find one,” I say quickly, before this becomes a real conversation. “I should go put this away in my car. I don’t want to get ice cream on it or anything.” I hold up my Helena. “You’ll all be okay on your own?” I ask, looking at Dad.

“We’ll be fine,” Priyanka says.

“Great,” I say, “I’ll find you in a bit.” I turn away quickly. I can feel my eyes stinging a little, my face warm, and I’m not sure why.

“Hey, wait,” Miles says, jogging next to me. “You okay?”

“Sure.” I smile.

“Your dad seems…”

“It’s the usual,” I say, “don’t worry. Go hang out with your moms.”

I walk faster, and Miles turns around and goes back to the parents. I know this is all because I’m leaving. Dad’ll be alone, and that scares him. It scares me, too.

“Hey, you win that?” I glance up. I’m walking by the dunking booth, and Clarke is standing outside it, dripping wet in just his Speedo. Harrison next to him, smiling a little too largely.

“I did!” I say, smiling. “I wanted one for my dorm. Miles technically helped, but I won it.”

“Technically?” Harrison asks.

“Did Georgia bring out her John score chart?” Clarke asks.

I laugh. “She did.”

Harrison frowns. “What?”

“She just always feels a need to compare everything happening to how John would do it, or how John did it, or what John is doing now,” Clarke says, waving his hand in her general direction. “It’s full stalker behavior.”

I laugh again.

“I think she just misses him,” Harrison says. “They’re best friends.”

Clarke shrugs. “Sure, yeah. That makes it sad, I guess.”

“Or kind of sweet,” Harrison says, looking at me.

“Cloyingly,” I say. Clarke laughs. “I’m going to go put this in my car before someone gets it wet,” I add, holding it far away from Clarke. “You two better stop by Fair But Frozen Maid before they run out of the good flavors.”

“Oh yeah. We’ll see you there?” Clarke asks.

“I already had some. The orange hibiscus dark chocolate chip is fantastic.”

“I’ll have to try it,” Clarke says. “Post a review on KamerUhh.”

“You should,” I say. “Be sure to mention the carnival.”

“Oh, I already posted a bunch of me in my Speedo talking about it.”

“A bunch of guys from other schools came just to dunk him,” Harrison says.

“Good work,” I say. “Go get ice cream.”

“Later, Emmett,” Clarke says, waving.

“Later!” Harrison says. I walk away and get to my car, where I put Helena in the passenger seat and belt her in place, for safety. When I lock the car and turn back to the carnival, I take a deep, sudden breath. The sky is darker now, rose and tangerine, and the lights are twinkling so vibrantly, it looks beautiful. People are laughing and I hear kids on rides, and it just looks so perfect.

I know I should go back to the fair. I need to oversee everything, and I should make sure Dad isn’t being too much of a handful. But for a moment, I just want to watch, and I do. Mom would really like this, I think. I take a breath. Vanilla and pine. I wonder if that’s what snow smells like.

Then it’s back into the carnival. I say hi to Dad and Miles and his moms, but then another kid vomits and everyone else is busy, so I go clean it up. And then the health booth runs out of condoms after a bunch of freshman boys each take a handful. Fair But Frozen Maid runs out of ice cream, and as the sun sets, most of the kids drift out, until it’s just teenagers, going on mostly empty rides. We close at nine, and I go around gathering up all the money from the rides and entry tickets and putting it in the lockbox. Over ten grand, just in one day. That more than pays our costs and gives us a nice amount to donate afterward, too. The school takes 30 percent of our profits, and it’s customary for the student council to raise that to 50 percent, but the other half goes to a charity of the board’s choosing. With so many causes, it wasn’t easy, but I managed to convince everyone that this year it should go to the National Cervical Cancer Coalition. It’s not in honor of Mom, officially, but in my mind it is.

After we shoo out the last of the teenagers, I gather everyone together at the entrance to thank them for their hard work. Dad and Miles’s moms wait outside, watching us. Normally one of the coheads of the student council gives a speech now, so I turn to Miles, but he just shakes his head.

“You did this,” he says, and spreads out his hand to let me step forward.

I smile and do so. “Thank you, everyone,” I say to the council and volunteers. “We have had one of the best opening nights in winter carnival history. We’ve made over ten thousand dollars, and that was just tonight. With tomorrow and Sunday, I fully expect us to cross fifty thousand dollars in profit, which means twenty-five thousand dollars for the school, enough for those new memory foam seats in the theater! Finally, the only discomfort we’ll feel watching the spring musical will be from the performances.” Miles elbows me. “Kidding, kidding! Our musicals are always top-notch. And with a little luck and work, our seating will match them. And, on top of that, we’ll have so much money to give to the NCCC, which is just…” I take a breath, and Miles puts his hand on my shoulder, which is enough to stop any flood of emotions that might have threatened and replace them with a vague annoyance that he felt I needed reassurance. I square my shoulders, and he removes his hand.

“Thank you,” I say. “Excellent work today, everybody, and keep it up for the next few days. The work schedule is in all your inboxes, but we have a paper copy inside the ticket booth if your phone dies. See you all tomorrow!”

I wave at everyone as they leave, and then lock up the gates that lead to the fairground and turn off the power.

“I didn’t know you were raising money for the NCCC,” Dad says as we walk back to our cars. “I can match any donation, you know, double it.”

“If you want,” I say. “But separately, please. I want this to be something we did.”

“You did, really,” Miles says.

“No. This isn’t like Helena. You didn’t just help. We all did this together,” I say.

“Well, I thought it was fantastic,” Priyanka says. “Felt like a welcome-back party just for me.”

“Should we all go somewhere and get dinner?” Jasmine asks. “Casa Verde probably has a table for us.”

“They always have a table for you, Mom,” Miles says. “But… I think I’d just like to go home. That’s okay, right?”

“Sure, honey,” Jasmine says. “You’ve had a long day. I can cook. Emmett, Henry, you want to come over?”

I glance over at Miles. He looks a little nervous, suddenly, and won’t meet my eyes.

“That’s kind of you,” I say. “But I think we’ll just head home.”

“What?” Dad says.

“I still have to study for midterms,” I say. “I was just going to eat while reading.”

“That makes sense,” Priyanka says, though she frowns a little. “Well, after the fair and midterms are over then. Family dinner at our place.”

“That sounds great,” I say with a smile.

“Yeah,” Miles says. He cracks one of his knuckles. He did that earlier, too, but I’m not sure what he could be nervous about.

We drop Miles’s moms off at their car, and then my dad at his. Thank god the cars are all electric, or this would be terrible for the environment. Then Miles and I keep walking to the student parking lot. It’s dark and everyone else is gone, so the world feels empty.

“You all right?” I ask him. I don’t know why, exactly. We’ve had a nice day together, and it feels a little like old times, maybe.

“Huh?” He looks up at me, then smiles. “I’ve always been so obvious to you.”

“You’re obvious to everyone. So what is it?”

“Oh, it’s just… I need to talk to my moms about something, and I told myself I’d do it tonight, and now I’m nervous.”

“What, is there a chance you’ll only get a B-plus in statistics?”

He scowls, then laughs. “Yes, that’s it.”

“I’m sure they’ll forgive you,” I say as we arrive at my car. I open the door. He looks curiously at Helena, strapped in and sitting shotgun. “For her protection,” I say.

He laughs again. “Night, Emmett. See you tomorrow.”

“You too,” I say, and get in and close the door. I watch him walk over to his car, then pull out of the parking lot. Today went well, but it was exhausting, too. Still, so much is on track: the festival, Harrison and Clarke, and I have a Helena ready for my dorm room. Everything is going exactly like I planned it. A perfect day.