Uncle Adam is an amazing person and everybody in town loves him. He’s friendly, outgoing, always willing to lend a hand. But he was born with a speech deformity, so when he talks, his speech sounds a little slurred. I’m not exactly sure what it’s called, but the back of his throat doesn’t close properly, so it can be difficult to understand him sometimes.

When I was little and I asked what was wrong with Uncle Adam, Mom made it clear that there was nothing “wrong” with him, he spoke differently because of a birth defect. So I took it at face value. Then, two years ago, I was walking home from the park when these boys started asking how my “retard uncle” was doing. I yelled, “He’s not retarded, he just talks funny.” I came home in tears and told my dad what had happened. That’s when he informed me that Adam was developmentally disabled. My parents thought I already knew. But what did I know? He drives, has a job, and lives in his own house (right across the street from ours). His life isn’t really that different from ours.

I held my breath as she introduced herself to Adam and me, worried that, like some other people, she’d do something wrong. “Hi, Macallan, I’m Levi’s mother. Thank you so much for being welcoming to Levi today. It’s hard to move halfway across the country and start fresh at a new school.” She had the same long blond hair as Levi, but hers was pulled back into a high ponytail. She had on yoga pants and a hoodie. It looked like she was coming back from the gym. Even without makeup on, she was absolutely gorgeous.

“Mom,” Levi groaned, no doubt trying to prevent her from telling his whole life story.

She turned toward Adam. “And you must be her father.”

Uncle Adam grabbed her hand, and I saw her flinch slightly at his grip. “Uncle.”

“This is my uncle Adam,” I said.

“Very nice to meet you.” She gave him a warm smile as he and Levi shook hands, too. I tried to find some hesitation on Levi’s part, but it wasn’t there. He was probably more focused on getting his mom back to the car.

I found myself nervously overexplaining. “Yeah, my dad sometimes has to work late even though he owns his own construction company, so sometimes Adam leaves the hardware store to take me home.”

“Well, if you ever need us to take you home or stay with us until your dad or uncle is done, we’d be more than happy to have you.”

I stood there silently for a few seconds. I was used to Midwestern politeness, but here was a woman who’d just moved to town and I’d just met, and she was already offering her home to me. And she was doing it out of niceness, not because she knew about the accident.

“Great! Wednesdays are always hard,” Uncle Adam said before I could stop him. He usually worked from seven in the morning until two, so he could pick me up from school. Except on Wednesdays, when he had the late shift. Last year, I either stayed in the library or got a ride with Emily or Danielle after their respective after-school activities.

Levi’s mom didn’t hesitate. “Why don’t you come over on Wednesday? Only if you want.”

I glanced over at Levi, who looked at me and mouthed the words she’d just said — only if you want.

“Sure!” Uncle Adam agreed.

“I’ll give you my number, and Macallan’s father can call me if he has any concerns, okay?”

Levi pointed to the button on his bag, his eyebrow arching in a playful manner. I imagined us watching Buggy and Floyd together.

I do, I mouthed back.

The two adults exchanged phone numbers. The negative me said Levi’s mom was doing this because she thought my uncle was unfit to look after me. The positive me said she was a nice person who wanted her son to have friends.

Or maybe she feels sorry for you, the negative me said.

She doesn’t know, the positive me spoke up. This wasn’t the same thing as a non-friend suddenly paying attention to you or offering a shoulder to cry on, or bringing over a casserole that was nothing your mother would have ever, ever cooked for you.

Uncle Adam and I got into his car. He always made sure I was buckled up properly before he turned on the ignition.

“Everything okay?” He looked at me intently.

“Yeah,” I said, even though I had no idea how to feel about what had just happened. I didn’t really like unexpected turns. I’d had more than my share by that point.

Adam looked so sad. “Your mother loved picking you up from school.”

I nodded, which was pretty much the only response I had whenever anybody brought her up.

A tear started trickling down his face. “You look so much like her.”

I’d been getting used to this. I loved that I looked like my mother. I had her big hazel eyes, heart-shaped face, and wavy auburn hair that turned strawberry blond in the summer.

But I was also that mirror girl, the walking reminder of what we all had lost.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and promised myself: In fifteen minutes, you can work on algebra homework. In fifteen minutes, you’ll have a reprieve. Get through these next fifteen minutes and you’ll be fine.

Do you really think my mom offered to give you a ride out of pity?

Not anymore. Now I know your mom is the definition of incredible.

Like mother, like son.

Oh, please.

But you admit you only invited me to sit with you at lunch out of pity.

Totally.

See, you’re supposed to lie and say you wanted to hang out with me because you thought I was beyond cool.

So you want me to lie?

Um, yeah. Friends lie to make each other feel better. You didn’t know that?

Have I told you that you look really cute today?

Thanks, I — Wait a second.

I was upset when my parents first told me we were moving to Wisconsin. Like, why did I have to totally give up my friends and my life because Dad got a big promotion? Why couldn’t we have stayed in Santa Monica, where the weather was sweet and the waves were sick?

But then I realized I could have a fresh start. I always used to be jealous when a new guy came to our school. He’d get all this attention. He was a mystery. He could be anybody. So maybe moving would be good. I’d be the stranger from a strange land. What girl could resist that?

Then I arrived.

First I was excited and nervous when the principal introduced me to Macallan, because she was pretty. Then she made it known within, like, 2.5 seconds that she had no interest in me whatsoever. You could’ve seriously given her a glass of milk and it would’ve been frozen in less than a minute. She was that cold.

So I figured we’d never talk again and I concentrated on the guys at school. Guys are always way more chill than girls anyway.

Right before lunch on my first day, I went up to this group of guys, introduced myself, tried to be calm, cool, and collected. But I’m pretty sure I stank of desperation. I was able to tell right away that Keith, this beast of a guy, was the alpha in our grade. He always had a group of three or four other guys around him, and they were all wearing some sort of Wisconsin team T-shirt. Keith had on a Badgers hoodie and jean shorts. He was close to five foot ten and he towered over everybody, including most of the teachers. He wasn’t skinny and he wasn’t fat; he was just big.

He studied me as I approached him, and said, “What’s your deal?” before I had a chance to introduce myself. I made some small talk and felt like I was on a job interview.