My mom stares at me and then calmly turns to my dad. “Was this Molly?”

He nods once, quickly.

“I see,” my mom says.

What?

“That’s it?” I look back and forth in disbelief, at her, then him.

“I know about her,” she says. “We were going through a rough patch. We’re past that now.”

Now it’s my turn to stare with an open mouth. When I finally speak, I sound like an idiot. “How . . . ? When? You knew? You didn’t tell me. You knew?”

My mom glances at Avani, who is still standing nearby, pretending to look at the night sky. “It’s not something I’d like to discuss in public. But yes, your father told me about . . . the other woman. He ended it. We worked through our issues.”

“He cheated on you,” I whisper.

“I’m not discussing this with you now,” she says quietly.

“You didn’t discuss it with me at all!”

“It wasn’t your business,” she says, now angry. Her dark eyes shine with intense emotion. “It was mine. Mine alone. And your father’s.”

“Am I not part of this family?” I ask. “Don’t I deserve to know that my father is a piece of shit?”

“Hey!” my mom says.

“You’re not going to talk to me like that,” Dad says. “Joy’s right. It wasn’t your business.”

Lennon crosses his arms over his chest. “You made it her business when you fucking lied to her.”

My dad points a finger at Lennon and stalks toward him. “You listen to me—”

“No, I won’t,” Lennon says. “You want to punch me? Then do it, old man. I was too stupid to realize it then, but I know now that I didn’t need to be afraid of your threats. We have a camp full of witnesses here. You want to hit a minor? My parents will see you in court.”

“No one is hitting anyone,” my mom shouts, angrily pushing my father back. “This is ridiculous. And everyone’s emotions are out of control, so this is not the time or place to discuss this. The only thing I care about tonight is that Zorie and Lennon are safe. We will go home and talk about the rest of it later.”

“I’m not taking that punk home,” my father says, then peers over my mom’s head to address Lennon, pointing an angry finger in his direction. “You can find your own way. God knows you feel adult enough to trample through the woods with my daughter. Get a taxi, catch a bus, call your own parents. But you’re not riding in my car.”

“Dan,” my mom argues.

“No, it’s fine,” Lennon says, mouth rigid. “I wouldn’t dream of accepting a favor from him. I’ll catch my own ride.”

“We both can,” I agree, clasping Lennon’s hand. “Because I’m not getting in the car with you either, Dad. I’m staying here with Lennon.”

“Like hell you are,” Dad says. “You’re going home with us.”

New plan.

New plan.

New plan.

I can’t think of a new plan! I’m crying, and vaguely aware that half of the campground is now staring at us—and probably some of them are people I know. People I wanted to meet. Sandra Faber! My God, a renowned astronomer could be witnessing all of the ugliness, right along with everyone else in the region who could help me potentially get into Stanford.

But none of it matters now, because my heart is shattering. My family is a sham, and I’m about to lose Lennon again.

“I’ve never hated you more than I do right now,” I tell my father.

Hurt flashes behind his eyes, but instead of talking to me, he points at Lennon. “You did this. I blame you for corrupting my daughter. And guess what, hotshot? Nothing’s changed. You’re not allowed to see Zorie.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Lennon says.

“You may not, but she does,” he says, nodding toward me. “And if you don’t remember, I’ve got proof of what you did last fall.”

Lennon shrugs. “My parents know about the credit card, and they know about the hotel room. They also know I’m here with Zorie, and you don’t see them flipping out.”

My dad is going to kill him. Straight-up murder. I seriously wonder if I should call for help, and then I see him physically force himself to calm down. Hard breaths. Crack of the jaw. Eyes on the ground. “Zorie, you’re coming home with us. And that’s final.”

He’s serious. This is all falling apart.

What am I going to do?

“I won’t leave you,” I tell Lennon through my tears, turning away from my parents. “I won’t let him do this to us. I won’t lose you. I won’t lose you,” I repeat, desperate, fisting my hands in his shirt.

Lennon’s face is stony, and he’s glancing over my shoulder at my father. His head dips low, and he speaks quickly in my ear. “Go home with them. I’ll be okay here. And we’ll figure something out.”

How? How will we figure something out? I can’t see how this can work. But more than that, I can’t see my life without him in it. I tried living like that over the last year, and it wasn’t living. It was surviving.

Without thinking, I stand on my toes and kiss him. It’s quick and hard, and I’m still crying. He kisses me back, and it feels like goodbye.

“Joy,” my father says coldly, “talk sense into Zorie before I say something I regret. We’re leaving in three minutes.”

“I came here to take photos of the meteor shower,” I protest weakly. It doesn’t even matter anymore, and I’m fighting a battle I’ve already lost. “I was supposed to meet Sandra Faber.”

My dad shakes his head. “You lost that privilege when you lied to us about who you were coming out here with.”

“I came to the Sierras with Reagan! She didn’t tell me Lennon was coming along, and she definitely didn’t tell either one of us that she was going to abandon the glamping trip and take off with her friends. Lennon and I didn’t know we were going to be stranded in the middle of the wilderness. We didn’t plan this!”

“Life is hard,” my dad says, turning away from me sharply, storm clouds behind his eyes. “None of us plan for any of it.”

* * *

The atmosphere inside the car is silent and oppressive as my father drives out of the camp’s parking lot. I turn around in the backseat and see all the red lights of the star party. Lennon is already lost among the masses, so I can’t even see his face one last time. All I can see is my freedom slipping away as white meteoroids streak across the black sky. Dust and particles, some no bigger than a grain of sand, disintegrating as they pass through Earth’s atmosphere. Something so small can create a brilliant flash of light. It looks like a miracle. Unearthly.

Shooting stars.

No wonder people wish upon them.

And though I know they aren’t really stars, and that wishing is pointless, I watch the white streaks zipping over the mountains, and I wish. I wish so hard. Don’t let me lose him again.

26

* * *

My father speeds the entire way home and heads straight for my parents’ bedroom without saying a word. It’s as if he can’t get away from us fast enough. Fine by me. I don’t have anything I want to say to him. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to make up.