‘Look,’ she said, putting down her cup. ‘The basic fact of the matter is that no, this isn’t ideal. Very few things are. Sometimes, you have to manufacture your own history. Give fate a push, so to speak. You know?’

Right away, I thought of me and Eli, working our way down my quest. Each of those things – bowling, food fights, tossing newspapers – had happened late and out of order, not exactly as they probably should have. But the memories and experiences were no less real because of it. If anything, they were more special, because they hadn’t happened to me, but because of me. And him.

‘You know what?’ I said to Heidi. ‘You’re absolutely right.’

‘Am I?’ She smiled. ‘Well, that’s a nice thing to hear. Especially considering the day I still have ahead of me.’

‘It’ll be fine,’ I told her, drinking down the rest of my coffee and going for a refill. On the way, I picked up her cup, taking it with me. ‘I’m up and ready to help. What can I do?’

She groaned, pulling a yellow legal pad out of one of the favor boxes and flipping up a page. ‘Well, there are favors to bring to the hall. And the punch bowl to pick up. And the DJ to meet at ten A.M. for a sound check. Oh, and the balloon people are demanding payment before they’ll do anything, and now I have to find a babysitter…’

I slid her now-full mug in front of her, then took my seat again. In her arms, Isby looked at me, and I reached out, running a hand over her head. Her skin was warm and soft, and she kept her eyes on me for a moment before tucking in tighter to her mother’s chest and closing them, drifting off even in the midst of everything.

By noon, I’d dealt with the balloon people, made two trips to the hall where the prom was happening, and pulled a muscle in my shoulder helping Heidi move the photo backdrop – a large, wooden fake wave dotted with fish made by the local senior arts group – into place. I was sticky and sore and on my way back to the house to pick up a box of punch glasses when I saw Jason.

He was getting out of his car, which was parked right by the top of the boardwalk. When he turned and saw me, he stiffened, then lifted a hand to wave.

‘Auden,’ he called out, hurrying closer. ‘I’ve been trying to call you.’

I had a flash of my phone, which I was pretty sure I’d left on the kitchen table. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I’ve been running around all morning.’

‘Your stepmother said,’ he replied. ‘I finally looked up your dad’s home number. Luckily there are only a couple of Wests here.’

Behind him, I could see Adam coming out of the bike shop, wheeling a red bike with a sign that said READY TO GO! hanging from its handlebars. He parked it by the bench, then went back inside, the door banging behind him.

‘So look,’ Jason said. ‘I need to talk to you about tonight.’

‘Okay.’

‘I’m not…’ He stopped, then took a breath. ‘I’m not going to be able to make it.’

I was surprised by the way I reacted, hearing this. My face flushed, my heartbeat jumped. It was like every time I got on the bike, a mix of fear and inevitability, all at once. ‘You’re canceling on me?’ I said. ‘Seriously? Again?’

‘I know.’ He winced. ‘It’s totally rude of me. I wouldn’t blame you if you never spoke to me again.’

This was when I was supposed to proclaim otherwise. I didn’t. I just waited for the excuse, because there always was one.

‘It’s just, there’s this speaker coming today to the conference,’ he said quickly. ‘She’s a leader in student activism, has really made some big changes at Harvard, where she went undergrad, and now Yale, where she’s in law school. I mean, incredible policy-changing stuff. So she’s a great contact for me.’

I said nothing as Adam came out once again, this time pushing a smaller green bike. It had fatter tires, a glossy black seat, and was polished so clean it was glinting in the sun. ENJOY YOUR RIDE! said its sign, which was swinging in the breeze.

‘Anyway,’ Jason continued, ‘her talk is this afternoon, but then she’s going to dinner with a select few attendees to talk about some of her experiences one on one. No first years were supposed to be invited, but apparently she’d heard about that recycling initiative I did junior year, so…’

I was listening, even as I watched Adam push out another bike, this one a two-seater. YOU’LL LOOK SWEET! said its sign, with a heart around it.

‘It’s just,’ Jason finished finally. ‘It’s something I have to do. I’m sorry.’

Right then, I realized something. I wasn’t upset that Jason was ditching me. That racing of my heart, the flushing of my face I was feeling: it was what happened when you got hurt, true, but also when you got back up and went on. Maybe Jason had never been meant to be part of my second chance anyway, and this was just the push that I, and fate, needed.

‘You know what?’ I said to him. ‘It’s fine.’

He blinked at me. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’ I took a breath, making sure this true. Weirdly, it was. ‘I’m okay with this.’

‘You are?’ I nodded. ‘Oh, God, Auden, thanks for understanding. I figured you’d be so angry with me! But you of all people understand the academic thing, right? I mean, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and…’

He was still talking as I stepped around him and started toward the bike shop. Vaguely, I heard him saying something about understanding and obligation, commitment and future endeavors, all the buzzwords and concepts I did understand, and knew so well. Unlike what I was now approaching. Still, more than ever this summer, I’d learned that it’s not just where you go, but how you choose to get there. So I pulled that sign off the green bike – ENJOY YOUR RIDE! – and went inside to take the first step toward doing just that.