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“So yeah, if your dad finds it, you’re gonna have to tell him you bought it on eBay or something.” I reach in and pull out the folded paper from my backpack. “Otherwise, he’ll watch me like a hawk every time we travel and that’ll be the end of your autographed swag days.”

Jordan finally lifts his gaze to meet mine again. “Thank you.” He leans forward and kisses me lightly on the mouth, starts to pull away, but the simple touch of his lips against mine causes the awkward spell between us to drop and I’m reaching for his face at the same time his hand is cupping the back of my neck, the other combing through my hair.

God, I missed kissing him.

“You are so pretty,” he mumbles against my lips, “And you smell so good… and I missed you like crazy.”

My face warms up, heat and probably red coloring travels all the way to the tips of my ears. “I missed you, too.”

Jordan pulls away way too soon. We can’t exactly go make-out crazy right here, considering we’re not alone. Secluded, but not alone. And I’m suddenly daydreaming about the time we laid on a blanket in the park, kissing and touching and talking… I
want
to be that alone right now. He rests his forehead against mine, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. “Thanks for all my presents. You did well.”

“Wait!” I straighten up and reach for the paper that had fallen onto my lap the second he started kissing me. “Got one more.”

He unfolds the page and looks it over carefully. “A flight itinerary?”

I nod, encouraging him to look more closely.

“Two weeks from now,” he assesses, “you’re flying to… ABE… staying for four weeks.”

“ABE,”
I say, emphasizing that particular airport code. A tiny part of me is nervous that Jordan won’t be excited about this news. Maybe gymnastics camp is his place and he doesn’t want to bring relationships into it. Though he had a relationship with a girl named Liberty last summer. My stomach sinks just thinking about him and mystery girl together. Together in every way possible, which is a piece of information I, unfortunately, brought on myself by asking him about his sexual history before we were an official item. Damn therapy sessions. They make you all open and honest.
Ugh
. I take a deep breath and try to hide my newly acquired insecurities. “Nina Jones arranged for me and Stevie to train with her at gym camp in Pennsylvania along with the other top seniors. They’re remodeling the National Team Training Center and—”

“Wait,” Jordan interrupts. “You’re coming to camp this summer? As in
my
camp?”

I bite my lower lip and nod.

The second his face lights up, relief washes over me. Jordan takes my face in his hands and kisses me again on the mouth. “This is so awesome! I’ve been debating all evening whether I’d actually be able to survive leaving in three days.”

He releases me and folds his jersey neatly and stuffs it back into my bag along with the flight itinerary Nina Jones gave me before leaving Brazil. He zips everything up, sets the bag in the grass, then turns me around so that I’m facing the small lake that sits at the end of the backyard. One of his feet lands on each side of the chair and his arms hook around my waist, sliding me until I’m sitting between his legs, my back resting against his chest.

I hear him sigh, then he says, “Best birthday present ever.”

“Better than the jersey?”

His lips rest on top of my head. “Way better.”

“Well, thank Nina Jones, I guess.” I laugh and let my exhausted body mold into him. “Your dad’s not too happy about this plan.”

“Yeah, I bet he isn’t.” He pushes my hair over to one shoulder and his nose grazes my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. “No more parental influence tonight, okay? New subject?”

New subject is kind of our signal for avoiding topics that are painful. Hearing him say that about Coach Bentley has me wondering if I should push the issue and get him to say what he’s really thinking. But then I decide maybe it’s best to let it go tonight. “Tell me everything about graduation. They don’t have a ceremony for online high-school graduates. They e-mailed my diploma. I need to live vicariously through you.”

He tightens his arms around my waist and plants a kiss on my cheek, “Okay, so first we had this lame rehearsal where a few kids—can’t say who, though—decided that chickens should be part of the rehearsal…”

There’s nothing boring about hearing Jordan talk and his graduation story is certainly filled with many colorful moments, but the lack of sleep and so many weeks of emotional highs and lows and physical exertion catch up to me. Before I know what’s happening, my eyelids are falling, my mind unable to stay alert and fight off sleep.

T
ony easily extracts a sleeping (more like unconscious) Karen from the front seat of his car, where we had to buckle her in because she wouldn’t wake up to do it herself. He passes her into my arms, causing me to stumble back and grunt from the effort of supporting her weight. She’s tiny and all, but in this complete rag doll state, she feels twice as heavy. I’m turning around, ready to head up the path to our townhouse, when the front door flies open and Dad comes rushing down the steps.

“What happened?” he demands. “Was she drinking?”

I’d laugh if a nearly hundred-pound girl weren’t pressing against my diaphragm. “She fell asleep. No drinking, no drugs, no excessive carbohydrate consumption.”

Dad sighs with relief and nods. “She didn’t sleep at all on the flight. We had a couple of crying babies and a set of wild twin toddlers in our section.”

“If you don’t mind, I’m gonna find a place to set my sleep-deprived girlfriend before my arms fall off.” Before stepping around Dad, I catch a glimpse of his stiff, impassive face and the way it tightens on the word “girlfriend.”

Whatever. I can’t screen every word that’s about to exit my mouth to make sure it won’t make him uncomfortable.

After a brutal walk up the steps with Karen, I lay her across her bed and pull the covers over her before shutting off the light. Tony is still on the porch holding Karen’s backpack, so I head back outside, hoping Dad will go to bed so that I can avoid the inquisition he’s no doubt dying to give me about the party.
Only because Karen is involved,
I can’t help thinking. I shake my head, pushing my anger aside. It’s not her fault, it’s his. Or maybe it’s mine. I don’t even know anymore. I guess I’ve stopped keeping score.

I open Karen’s backpack and show Tony the jersey she managed to get me, taking a second to glance through the front window and make sure Dad didn’t see, though I highly doubt he’d be as pissed off as Karen thinks he’ll be.

“So, are we still going to the Cardinals game tomorrow night?” Tony asks, apprehension filling each word. He doesn’t want me to choose my girlfriend over him, but won’t admit it either. “I could probably get a ticket for Karen if you want?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “She’s got practice until nine so we’re good. Want to get food before? Spaghetti Factory?”

Tony’s obsessed with Spaghetti Factory despite its mediocre status. “Sounds good.”

I wait until he’s almost to his car, his fingers already punching in another text on his phone, before saying, “Tell Paul I said hi.”

I know he’s pretty fucked up about this and probably way too ashamed to tell me about this dude he’s obviously into. I just want him to know he can tell me. I won’t freak out.

Tony freezes, then slowly turns around. “Jordy… What the hell?”

“You left your phone on the coffee table when you got up to pee this afternoon.” I walk closer to him and watch the tension cloud his usual happy-go-lucky face. His jaw tightens. “How’d you meet him? Or have you not met him? Is it one of those online only relationships… ?”

“I’m not in a relationship.” He exhales, eyes darting all around the dark, empty complex parking lot, like we’re telling classified government secrets.

“According to your Facebook status you’re not in a relationship, but according to your behavior the past few days, I’d say you’re knee and elbow deep in one.” I know all about the art of texting your way from friends to… more than friends. Karen and I had spent many nights hidden behind our own bedroom walls texting back and forth, for hours sometimes. I know how one short message can quickly turn into a hundred and how eleven at night can suddenly become one in the morning.

He can’t look me in the eye, but he does say, “He came to my party the other day. The one you skipped out on ‘cause you were dying of the plague.”

“Strep,” I correct. “Who’d he come with?”

“Some junior chick. His cousin.”

“So he’s like… he’s…”

“Gay,” Tony finishes, dropping his gaze to his feet. “Yeah.”

“If you can get three tickets to the game tomorrow, then invite him,” I say, despite the fact that we are treading into all kinds of territory and maybe it’s a little fast for not just Tony, but me also. “It’ll be a guy’s trip to the ball game. Nothing more than that. Your parents aren’t coming, right?”

He shakes his head, indicating the plan might work, but I can already see the nerves building up in him. I’m not even a hundred percent positive that Tony’s accepted his sexuality. For all I know, he’s still trying to convince himself that he’s straight.
No… that’s not true
. I know he’s accepted it. I haven’t seen him getting flirty with girls for months and months.

I take a swing, landing a hard punch right into his shoulder. “Don’t be a wimp. Just tell him you have an extra ticket. It’s no big deal.”

He retaliates by driving his fist right into my gut. I groan and bend over, clutching my stomach. And Karen thinks I have nice abs… doesn’t do much good when I have to absorb a six-foot-five giant’s punch. “I don’t know why you keep insisting on playing this game. Your pretty-boy muscles aren’t going to get you anywhere in a fight. You’re gonna have to start carrying pepper spray and a rape whistle when you go to college.”

I laugh and pull myself upright again. “I just need to figure out how to use what I’ve got. I’m not ready to give up yet.”

Tony shrugs like he knows my five-foot-eight self doesn’t stand a chance at taking him down in a fight. His cocky grin fades and his expression turns serious again. “I might,” he says. “You know… invite him.”

He says
him
like a forbidden fruit. I guess maybe to Tony that’s exactly what this “relationship” is. I toss Karen’s bag over my shoulder and head back into the house. Unfortunately, Dad is seated on the couch waiting for me. He’s got a yellow manila envelope in his hand and he uses it to tap the couch cushion beside him, indicating that I should sit down.

Oh great. Here we go. Lecture time.

I suppress the frustrated sigh about to escape as I plop down on the couch. “Aren’t you tired? Long flight, screaming babies…”

The envelope lands in my hands and he’s waiting for me to open it. “Graduation and birthday present. Sorry I had to miss both. Your counselor sent me some pictures of the ceremony. It looked like it went well.”

She must have left out the chicken incident.

I pull what looks like an airline boarding pass out of the envelope and then another one identical to the first.

“It’s a gift card,” Dad says, casually but there’s an undertone hinting at a build to more uncomfortable subjects. “Two round-trip flights anywhere in the US in the next year. Like if you want to come home for a visit before winter break.”

Considering I’d gone to boarding school since I was thirteen and I never came home for visits outside of winter break and summers, this had to be about Karen. About being able to see her. My suppressed anger toward Dad fades about ten percent.

“You didn’t have to do this. Tuition is going to be hard enough to cover—”

“It’s done,” he says, firmly. “It’s all paid for, so you can stop worrying that I’m not going to be able to come through.”

My gaze diverts from his. So yeah, I didn’t think he’d come through. “How? I mean… that’s a lot of money, Dad. Most people don’t have that lying around.”

He laughs under his breath. “Let’s just say it’s covered and be done talking about it, all right?”

Yeah, like that’s gonna happen. “You didn’t join the Mafia or sell a kidney or something, did you?”

He shakes his head and cracks a smile. “Nothing dangerous or illegal, I promise.” He scoots further toward his end of the couch, angling himself to face me and tossing his feet up on the coffee table. “Karen told you about training at camp this summer, I assume?”

Okay… think I know where this is headed
. “Uh-huh.”

“I need you to keep an eye on her for me.”

Huh? “You want me to keep an eye on Karen? I figured you’d be giving her this speech about making sure that I stayed out of trouble.” Actually, I figured he’d tell Karen to look out for herself and he wouldn’t tell me anything. Like usual. Or he’d tell me to stay away from her and let her focus.

Even though I don’t want to admit it, he’s never told me to stay away from Karen. He was the one who basically told off Nina Jones when she tried to accuse me of having “relations” with one of her gymnasts. Bitch.

“Stevie will be fine,” he says, more to himself than to me. “But I’m afraid Nina’s going to push Karen too hard and Karen’s always trying to prove herself, add more difficulty to her routines.”

“It’s not like she’s going be there forever.” But now he’s got me worried. Karen
does
have a daredevil buried inside her. Okay, maybe not so buried anymore. Yet, another reason for concern.

“A lot of damage can be done in three weeks. That’s all I’m saying.”

“No problem. I’ll make sure she’s not messed up by the time you get her back.” I move to stand up, but Dad stops me.

“One more thing…” He waits for me to get comfortable again before plunging ahead. “You have to be careful with her, Jordy.”

And there it is. Not like I hadn’t seen this coming a mile away.

I can’t tell if this conversation is torturing him, but I decide the more at ease and blunt I am with the subject we’re about to tackle, the worse it’ll be for him. Which is exactly why I fold my arms across my chest and toss my feet onto the coffee table beside his. “Be careful with her? You mean safe sex? Don’t worry. Got that covered.”