She put her gardening supplies away—everything in its place—and paused in her greenhouse. There was the petunia Lexi had given her the night of the dance; it looked leggy and forlorn. She made a mental note to plant it, and then went back into the house. There, she showered and dressed in a pair of low-rise black pants and a fitted white T-shirt. She placed the movies she’d rented on the kitchen counter: Along Came Polly, Starship Troopers 2, and Return of the King.

She was just about to go to the garage for a Coke when the front door banged open.

Footsteps thundered across the wood floors of the great room and thudded up the stairs.

What the hell?

Jude put down her dishrag and walked out of the kitchen.

The front door stood wide open.

Jude closed the door and then went up the stairs. Zach’s door was open; Mia’s was closed.

She paused outside her daughter’s room, heard the unmistakable sound of crying. Sobbing.

“Mia?” she said. At the silence that followed, she opened the door.

Her daughter lay sprawled facedown on her bed, crying into the stuffed pink puppy that had been her favorite childhood toy.

Jude went to the bed. “Hey, Poppet,” she said quietly, using the nickname that had been lost along the way, tucked in somewhere alongside baby teeth and patent leather shoes.

Mia made a howling sound and cried harder.

Jude stroked her daughter’s silky blond hair. “It’s okay, baby,” she said, over and over.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Mia rolled over and looked up at Jude through puffy, bloodshot eyes. Her face was damp with tears, and her mouth trembled unevenly. “H-he … b-broke … up with m-me,” she said, bursting sobs.

Jude climbed up into the big bed beside Mia, who curled up against Jude’s side like one of the potato bugs they used to hunt for.

Her bright, beautiful, almost grown daughter looked like a little kid again, curled up, crying, holding Daisy Doggy as if it were a talisman, and maybe it was. The mementos of one’s past had serious magic.

Mia looked up, tears streaking down her face. “In class,” she added, as if it somehow doubled his crime.

Jude remembered this pain. Every woman had felt some version of it: the end of first love. It was when you learned, for good and always, that love could be impermanent. “I know how much it hurts,” Jude said. “Keith broke up with me the week before senior prom. The week before. He took Karen Abner, and I sat home and watched Saturday Night Live by myself. I cried so much I’m surprised the house didn’t float away.” She remembered that night with clarity. Her mother had come home late, taken one look at Jude and said, Oh, for God’s sake, Judith Anne, you’re a child, and kept walking. Jude looked down at her daughter’s teary face. “A broken heart hurts.” She paused. “And it heals.”

Mia sniffled loudly. “No one else is gonna want me. I’m such a dweeb.”

“Oh, Mia. You haven’t even begun to find out who you really are, and, believe me, other boys are going to fall in love with you. If a guy can’t see how special you are, he isn’t good enough for you.”

“It just hurts so much.”

“It won’t always, though. You won’t always want to puke when you see him with another girl. And then one day you’ll see another guy who makes your heart race and it’ll … just fade. Your heart will stitch itself back up and only a tiny scar will remain behind, and someday you’ll tell your daughter how Tyler Marshall hurt you.”

“I never want to see him again. How can I go to the grad party if he’s there?”

“It doesn’t do any good to hide out in life, Mia. That’s how you used to handle things. You’re stronger now.”

She sighed heavily. “I know. Lexi says I shouldn’t care what anyone thinks.”

“She’s right.”

“Yeah,” Mia said, but she sounded unconvinced.

Jude held her daughter, remembering the whole of their lives in the blink of an eye. “I love you, Poppet.”

“Love you, too, Madre. Can we go get Lexi now? I need her tonight.”

“Of course. That’s what best friends are for.”

* * *

In less than ten days, they would be graduating from high school.

Lexi stood in a crowd of seniors, staring out at the sea of folding chairs that had been set up in the gymnasium.

Principal Yates stood beneath the basketball hoop, his arms extended, telling them how the ceremony would go, but only a handful of kids were paying attention. The rest of them were laughing and talking and jostling one another.

“You’ll file alphabetically out of the gym and along the bleachers and onto the football field—if it’s sunny. If not, we’ll be in here,” the principal was saying. “Now, let’s try a walk-through, okay? Jason Adnar, you start us off…”

Lexi followed along as she was supposed to, finding her seat on the floor. The rehearsal took all of sixth period, and when it was over, they were released from school. The whole class burst out of the gym like some musical where the kids were starting summer break.

She and Zach found each other without really trying; it was like echolocation. Each just knew where the other was, and they couldn’t stand to be apart. Everything felt so big these days, so momentous. Graduation. Summer vacation. College. Sometimes all Lexi could really hold onto was now, her love for Zach and her friendship with Mia. Everything else was changing.

Zach took her by the hand, and they walked across campus. At the student parking lot, he opened the Mustang door for her.

“Where’s Mia?” Lexi asked.

“Mom is picking her up. They’re having girl time after school.”

“That’ll be good for Mia.” Lexi got in the car.

Zach slid into the driver’s seat and looked at her. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“Not here.”

Lexi tensed. Reaching over, she held on to his hand as if it were a lifeline, which it had been from the beginning. All the way through town and down to LaRiviere Park, she said nothing.

At the park, he pulled into their usual spot and turned off the engine. She waited for him to open his door, but instead he twisted around in his seat. His green eyes were bright with tears.

“What?” she whispered.

“I love you, Lexi.”

He was going to break up with her. She should have expected this, been ready for it. She wanted to say, I know you do, but she couldn’t do it. The words felt like broken glass in her mouth.

“I want go to Seattle Central with you. We could get an apartment.”

“Wait. What? You want to go to community college with me?”

“I don’t want to leave you, Lex.”

She actually shuddered with relief, made a little sound.

He kissed her damp cheek and wiped his eyes, looking embarrassed by tears that were more valuable to her than diamonds.

Holding hands, they left the car and walked out to their place among the driftwood and sat down together. Waves whooshed along the sand, sounding like first love to Lexi. When she looked at him, she almost started to cry again.

He began to spin the dream for her. He talked about their life and the apartment they would find and the jobs they would get. He meant it, all of it, and she loved him all the more for it, but wanting it wouldn’t be enough.

“Mia,” was all she had to say. She hated to remind him, but what kind of friend would she be if she didn’t? She loved Mia as much as she loved Zach.

Zach sighed. “What do I do?” He stared past her, out at the Sound. Then he said it again, more softly, “What do I do?”

“I don’t think we should even talk about this, Zach. What’s the point?”

“But it could work. Why couldn’t it? We could get an apartment in Seattle. The three of us. We could go to Seattle Central Community College for a year or two and then transfer to the U. I’ll still get in a good med school. It’s not like USC is the only good school in the world.”

She felt like a kid hanging onto a balloon, being pulled effortlessly into the air. His vision was so buoyant; for a few precious moments, she let herself believe in all of it. Then he said, “I’m going to tell them what I want,” and she lost her hold on the string and fell back to earth.

“Not yet,” she said, burrowing as tightly against him as she could. Instead of saying anything, she strained upward, kissing him until the tears in her eyes dried up. She let her hands and her mouth communicate how much she loved him.

Afterward, they lay entwined, listening to the incoming tide, watching the cerulean blue sky begin ever so slightly to darken. Finally, as the day drifted toward a lavender evening, they had to leave their snow-globe world, where the view was always the same and no one else could get in.

Lexi held his hand all the way back to his house, afraid to let go. As they turned onto Night Road, her tension grew, until it was a pitchfork-jabs headache that wouldn’t go away.

She loved Zach, but he didn’t know anything about disappointment. Everything had always come so easily. He didn’t expect anything else.

She saw it in his face, a steely determination that fit uncomfortably on his handsome features, like a boy stepping into his dad’s oversized shoes and pretending they fit. “You ready to do this?” he asked, coming around to her side of the car.

“No.”

He gave her a confident smile. “It’ll be cool. You’ll see. Come on.”

She let him take her hand and lead her into the house.

Miles and Jude lay engtangled on the sofa, each reading a book. Mia lay stretched out on the sectional’s other end, watching TV. In a pink terrycloth hoodie, baggy gray sweats, and rhinestoned flip-flops, she looked like a little girl playing dress up. It wasn’t until you saw her bloodshot eyes that you knew how wounded she still was, how fragile.

Mia got to her feet. “Hey guys,” she said, smiling a little too brightly.

Lexi’s heart ached for her best friend; she saw how hard Mia was trying to be strong. She went to her, hugged her fiercely. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Mia said. “Or I will be. You guys should stop worrying about me.”

“Mom? Dad?” Zach said, coming forward. “I need to talk to you.”

Jude looked up sharply. Lexi was reminded of one of those nature shows where the prey animal steps on a twig and the predator suddenly looks up. That was how Jude looked now—on alert. “You want to talk to us? What’s wrong?” She got up quickly, moved toward her son.

Zach took a deep breath. “I’m not going to USC. I want all three of us to go to Seattle Central CC. Mia? We could get an apartment.”

Jude froze.

“What?” Miles got to his feet. “We paid your tuition deposit. It’s nonrefundable. Damn it, Zach—”

“I never asked you to pay it,” Zach yelled back.

“You never asked us not to,” Miles said harshly. He stood beside Jude, who’d gone pale. “Well, I’ll tell you this, I’m not paying for any damn apartment. If you want to throw opportunity away, you can do it on your tab. See how much fun college is when you have to work full-time and pay your own bills.”