Jake hadn’t been kidding when he told Clover that Pete was the only family member I liked. That fact was the only thing keeping me in the same room as him; I hadn’t tolerated personal questions from anyone else. Pete was my only cousin and, not counting Brady, the closest thing I had to an older brother. We could pass for siblings, too, though he’d been lucky enough to avoid getting the white-hair birthmark.

“What?” I demanded.

“Nothing.” He busied himself picking up the cups and napkins my friends had left behind. I watched him stack them in neat piles, and my annoyance grew.

“Then why are you asking?”

Pete didn’t look up. “He just seems like he’s into you.”

“Jake?” I was incredulous. “No. No way.” I plopped down onto the sofa and looked at the envelope in my hands. “We’re just really good friends.”

He glanced at me, a skeptical look on his face. “Okay.”

I started to say something but stopped myself. I wanted to know why Pete thought Jake liked me, because if Pete was right, it didn’t make any sense for Jake to be spending as much time with Clover as he had been. But I knew he was wrong about the first, and I didn’t know why I cared about the second, so I left my questions unasked.

“Are you going to open that?” he said with a nod toward the envelope.

I handed it to him. “I’m sure it’s just another sympathy card.”

He tore it open and pulled out its contents. “Oh, how nice. It’s from someone named Clover.”

“That’s Jake’s friend.”

I must have involuntarily sneered when I said that because his eyebrows shot up. “Friend? Or, like, friend?”

“Friend,” I replied. “I think.” I waved away his question with a flick of my wrist. “Anyway, it’s like, whatever.”

Pete pursed his lips like he was trying not to smile, resulting in a weird, lopsided smirk. “If you say so.”

“Why are you so interested in my high school drama, anyway, college man?”

He sat on the armrest on the other side of the couch and looked at me, brown eyes so similar to my own staring into mine. “I like Jake.” He grinned. “He’s good at keeping you in line.”

I huffed and gave him my best impersonation of my mom’s I’m-not-impressed look. “Don’t you have an econ midterm to study for or something?”

He shook his head. “Not a midterm. Just a test. And anyway, this is way more interesting.” He flashed a toothy smile.

“You’re obnoxious,” I said with a frown.

“And you’re perceptive.” He tilted his head as if in thought before he laughed and added, “Wait. No, you’re really not.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t know, my dear cousin, that only proves my point.”

Chapter Nineteen

As the late afternoon became evening and guests began leaving the house, I grew more restless and uneasy. It was simple enough to hide away in the family room while my friends were visiting, but after they’d left, I was subjected to pitiful glances and well-meaning but hollow words from people I’d never met before and would probably never see again. I’d lost count of the number of times someone either burst into tears telling me how sorry they were or said my dad talked about me all the time. Their words and actions were so predictable it was almost laughable. It was as though they were playing a round of What to Say to Someone Who’d Just Lost a Parent.

By the time the bulk of the people had left, I was worn out. Keeping up the appearance of the grieving daughter was exhausting and left me emotionally drained. My mom was in even worse shape, though, because she knew everyone. I wondered how it made Dr. Griffin feel, listening to my dad’s old friends talk about my father like he’d been this great, amazing guy. And maybe he had been at some point. But I’d gotten used to his absence, and it was hard for me to be sentimental over a man I didn’t know anymore.

Pete and his parents were the last to leave.

“Email me if you need anything, okay?” he said as he donned his black sport coat.

I nodded. “Will do. I hope your flight isn’t too terrible.”

“It’s direct,” he said, “and the weather’s actually good for once. I mean, for Chicago in January.”

We laughed, and he gave me a sad smile before wrapping his arms around me in a tight squeeze. “Be good,” he said as he released me.

“What’s the fun in that?”

“And be nice to Jake.”

I snorted. “I’m always nice to him.”

Pete’s mouth twitched, and he gave me a rather cryptic look. “Good. Keep it that way.” He gave me another hug and said, low enough so only I could hear, “People like Jake don’t show up very often.”

He dashed out the door before I could respond or ask him what he meant, so I busied myself with good-byes to my aunt and uncle.

I was sad to see Pete go, but it was also a relief because it meant the ordeal was over. Life could finally get back to some semblance of normalcy.

After locking the front door, I went in search of my mom. She was sitting on a couch in the family room, her feet propped up on an ottoman. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her look so spent. Dr. Griffin was in a nearby chair, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. He looked tired, too.

“How’re you holding up?” Her voice was hoarse, probably from talking most of the day.

“I wish people would stop asking me that,” I said. Her face fell, and guilt poked me in the chest. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m fine.”

She offered a sad smile and patted the cushion beside her. I sat down but stayed on the edge of the seat.

“I’m glad your friends could make it this afternoon,” Dr. Griffin said, “even if it was just for a couple of hours.”

“Me, too.”

An uneasy silence filled the room. No one spoke for a while.

“Well, it’s done now,” my mom said, a slight quiver in her voice. Her bottom lip started to tremble, and tears fell down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away.

I looked to my stepfather for some guidance. He reached for her hand and spoke quietly. “Would you like to lie down?” She nodded and sniffled into the soggy tissue in her other hand. He helped her to her feet and put his arm around her. “Talia, would you be okay ordering a pizza or something for dinner?”

That was my chance to escape, if only for a few hours. I cleared my throat. “I can go out, if that’s cool with you guys. Maybe go to Jake’s or something?” Mom hung her head, and I felt that pang of guilt again. I pushed it away. She may have needed to rest, but I needed to get out of the house.

She looked up at Dr. Griffin before she nodded again. “Just be home by ten.”

I watched them head toward the stairs before I pulled out my phone and texted Jake.

Still cool to come over?

A reply popped up almost immediately. I am currently driving but will reply to your message when I reach my destination.

These texts always made me laugh out loud, partially because they made Jake seem uber responsible and partially because I knew his dad was the one who set it up that way. I mean, my phone sent back automated texts, too, but they didn’t sound so stuffy and formal.

I went upstairs to change out of my black dress, eager to cover my legs with a favorite pair of jeans. I pulled a Westgate spirit shirt from homecoming week over my head and checked my phone while I grabbed a pair of socks. I frowned. There was still no response from Jake. It wasn’t like I was expecting him to text me the second he got to wherever he was going, but I couldn’t get rid of the weird uneasiness I felt. I flopped backward onto my bed and stared at the ceiling.

Maybe I wouldn’t be going out, after all.

The spider I’d seen a week ago was gone, and only dusty cobwebs were in the corner where I’d last seen him. I stood up to grab a tissue and was about to knock them down when my phone rang: “Faithfully” by Journey. I smiled. This was classic Jake. It was only the intro, but I’d listened to him trying to teach himself to play it on Mia’s piano enough to recognize the song in just a few notes.