Just like he wanted to surprise his mom on her birthday. He’s still the same good-hearted guy. And I can’t wait to see him. See how he’s doing. What he looks like. I keep wondering if he’ll come in a wheelchair, or if he’s able to walk by himself now. I didn’t want to ask him any of these questions on the phone. I mean, the last thing I’d want to do is make the guy feel like a failure if he isn’t able to walk yet. I have no idea what’s normal and what’s not, and from what his mom said, it sounds like there are lots of degrees of normal, anyway.

I’m kind of a wreck on Friday. Between the game looming large and the thought of getting to see my best friend for the first time in weeks, I can hardly sit still in my morning classes.

And then, as I’m heading to the cafeteria for lunch, I get a text. From a number I don’t recognize.

I blink a few times, reread the message over and over. At first I wonder if it’s some sort of cruel joke. I decide there’s only one way to find out.

I move into a corner of the hallway and call the number.

“Hello?”

“Lauren?”

“Hi, Colby.”

“It is you. I wasn’t sure.”

“I borrowed my aunt’s phone.”

“So it’s true? You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Taking the red-eye tonight.”

It feels like someone’s punched me in the gut.

“I’ll be right there.”

I stop at Walgreens on the way and make a mad dash around the place, getting everything I can. Then I practically fly to the McManns’, hoping the whole way I can get her to change her mind.

When I get there, I ring the bell, holding the gift bag, and wait.

Mrs. McMann opens the door and I say hello.

Her eyes look sad. “Hi, Colby. Lauren’s upstairs, packing. Come in.”

I step in, and she shuts the door behind me.

“So, she’s really leaving?” I ask.

She simply replies, “Yes.”

“Does she have to go?” I ask. “I mean, could she stay here?”

“Well, I don’t think she wants to stay here.”

“No, she does. But she thinks you guys don’t want her. I mean, not permanently, anyway.”

She’s about to respond when Lauren appears at the top of the stairs. “Hey, Colby. Come on up.”

I give Mrs. McMann a quick glance before I head up the stairs.

I start to reach out, to give Lauren a hug, but she’s already walking down the hallway. “You got here really fast. My room is down here, at the end.”

I follow her. It’s a big house. There are at least four bedrooms that we walk past.

When we get to her room, she plops down on her bed. Her suitcase is on the floor, full of clothes, but not zipped up yet.

“So what’d your mom say?” I ask.

“She said that she wants to be a family again. She wants to save up our money so we can move back to Seattle, and we’re going to fight to get shared custody of my little brother.”

“You want to go, then?”

“Of course.”

“Did she apologize? Say she missed you? Anything?”

“Yeah. She apologized. In a general sort of way. I mean, I could tell she feels bad.”

“Did she ask you how you’ve been?”

“You don’t understand, Colby.” She stands up and goes to her dresser, where she picks up a hair band and throws it in her suitcase. “She’s not really like that. And don’t make her out to be the bad guy in all of this. It’s not entirely her fault. I made mistakes too. It’s just a messed-up situation, and the important thing is that she wants to try and make it right.”

I get up and go over to her. “But, Lauren —”

She doesn’t let me finish. “Can I see what you brought me? We don’t have all day, you know.” She smiles, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t you have to catch a bus soon?”

I look at the clock on her nightstand and realize she’s right. I texted Coach and told him I forgot something and had to run home, so I’d have to miss the spirit ralley after lunch. Pretty sure he’ll forgive me for that. Missing the team bus, however, would not make him happy.

I hand her the gift bag. She takes it and sits down on her bed again. One by one, she pulls the items out.

A bottle of blue nail polish.

A small picture of a vase of daisies.

Stickers of the sun and hot air balloons.

A paint-by-number set of three parrots.

A cupcake wrapped in cellophane.

And finally, a bag of Bugles.

“Oh, Colby,” she whispers, tears in her eyes. “My favorite things.”

“All except the bake sale.”

She holds up the cupcake. “But something you’d find at a bake sale, yes?”

I nod. “Right.”

She stands up and hugs me. “Thank you so much.”

“Can you come to the game tonight?” I ask when we pull away. “Before your flight?”

She straightens the strings of my hoodie, avoiding my eyes. “I told them they could drop me off at the airport and then go to the game. That way, they don’t have to risk missing any of it. I’ll be there really early, but that’s okay.” She points at the bookcase full of books. “I have plenty of books to choose from.”

“Lauren, you don’t have to go, you know.”

She takes my hand. “Yes, I do. I know you probably don’t understand, but . . .”

“Is it really what you want?” I ask. “Just tell me that.”