7. A brand-new, bright-red Mercedes.

“Is that for me?” I breathed.

My mom nodded, grinning at me. Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes.

“Oh, Mom, thank you!” I threw my arms around her and gave her a big hug.

“Don’t thank me,” she said. “Your father had it delivered while we were gone.”

I tried to maintain my smile as I crossed the space between the cars. Finally I resorted to the majorette grin. The car was gorgeous and I should be grateful. I was grateful, but it was hard to be happy when my dad’s gift-giving followed such a predictable pattern. He bought expensive cars for women he didn’t care about, to keep them off his back.

I opened the heavy door and slid behind the wheel. The interior was white leather. Addison was going to get pink bubblegum on it, and the residue would not come off. I could see it now.

The key was in the ignition. Attached to it was a red ribbon with a handwritten note:

Come see me in Hilton Head.

I was glad my mom had gone inside the house to give me a moment alone with my car. My face probably looked like I was changing into a werewolf as I stared at the note and experienced every emotion I’d ever felt about my dad cheating on my mom and leaving us both.

The idea of driving over to Hilton Head by myself excited me. I was nearly floored by a wave of wanting to hug my dad again and spend a Sunday watching pro football with him. But his girlfriend would be there, and that meant a lot of awkward conversations and strained silences. Kind of like going on a date with Carter.

Well, I owed my dad at least a thank-you for the car. I called him. Holding the phone to my ear, I leaned forward until my head rested on the steering wheel. I listened to the rings and then a recording of his voice, and I left a message.

It was almost time for my date, so I ran inside to grab a sandwich and change. I’d planned to wear my new-to-me bowling shirt, knowing Max would love it. And now he wasn’t coming.

I slipped it on anyway and tied a chiffon scarf around my neck for good measure. I knew Carter would hate it, but I was not going to change for him.

I popped my head into my mom’s office to say good-bye, ran downstairs, and backed out of the garage in my car. I stopped at the mailbox just to check it for cards from my grandmas.

8. Score! Two sweet cards, both with birthday bucks. But there was also:

9. A small, flat package from Max.

Heart going wild, I ripped it open. Inside was a CD. Awww, he had made me a mix CD! I glanced over the song titles, which he’d carefully lettered onto the cover in small, sharp handwriting that seemed so him. Most were birthday rock songs. A few were apology songs. One was a Dolly Paranoids song. I sang through it in my mind, listening for some hidden meaning in the lyrics, like Max was sorry he had chosen the wrong girl to ask out. But I was pretty sure the whole song was about cow tipping.

I opened the case to slip the CD into my player. Inside was a note: See you tonight! So, at least when Max had mailed the package, he’d still been planning to come. I wondered again why he had backed out. I hoped he wasn’t sick. But I was about to find out.

I drove to the mall and parked in the lot. The evening sun shone too bright. The asphalt had half melted in the late summer heat. I felt queasy, but what was I going to do? I had told Addison I liked Carter. I had told Max I liked Carter. It made no sense for me to cancel a date with Carter just because the guy I actually liked was not showing up.

Carter waited for me on a bench outside the multiplex theater. Predictably, his blond brows knitted when he saw me. His head moved up and down, like if he took in my outfit from another angle, he might understand why I was wearing a pink bowling shirt. Beside him on the bench sat:

10. A teddy bear from one of those stores where you made it yourself so you could personalize it to your own tastes, if you were five, or to the tastes of your girlfriend, if you thought she was five. I had been to birthday parties there when I was little. I knew there were lots of animals to choose from, with various clothes and wigs. In fact, there was probably a purple hair option and a majorette costume in there somewhere, but what did I get? A plain brown bear wearing a T-shirt that said I LOVE YOU.

Those three words made me ill. It was the sweetest sentiment, but not one that I shared. As I sat beside Carter on the bench and he kissed me hello, I couldn’t imagine he felt that way either. We had never said I love you to each other, and yet he was giving it to me on a bear?

I was being petty, which made me mad at myself, which made me more upset. And lest I try to accept the bear graciously and then hide it away forever, it was huge, the largest size. Instead of me, Carter, Addison, and Max on my birthday date, it was me, Carter, and taxidermy.

“Aw, Carter,” I managed. I did not say, It’s so cute! because I didn’t want to encourage this sort of thing.

He hardly acknowledged my answer. “Good,” he said. Mission accomplished, job over. He stood up and held his hand out to me. “Let’s go.”

As we walked toward the theater entrance, I asked casually, “So, why couldn’t Max come?”

Carter frowned down at me. “Our football team had a scrimmage game at school this afternoon. It didn’t go well.”

I went cold in the hot evening. “You mean he got hurt?”

Carter shrugged. “I think the only thing hurt was his pride.”

I was dying to know what had really happened, but I let it go. I didn’t think I could pry the truth out of Carter. I would have to get the story from Max.

Carter and I had the most difficult time carrying on a conversation. Truthfully, a lot of the blame rested with me. I had plenty to tell him. I’d gotten great gifts from my friends, my driver’s license, and a frickin’ Benz. But I was afraid that if I mentioned my car, he would want to see it, which would drag the date out longer. I never said a word.

He chose the movie. He didn’t ask me what I wanted to see, and I didn’t realize that he’d chosen without asking me or that he was paying my way until he produced our tickets. It was a slasher film, my very least favorite. He had tried to do something nice for my birthday, but this was not a gift I wanted.

After he handed over the tickets at the door, he went straight to the concessions line without asking me whether I wanted anything. I didn’t. And if I had, I could have bought it myself. Not sure whether he wanted me to stay with him or go away, I waited half a step behind him, edging forward when he advanced in the line. We didn’t talk. After he ordered, he turned from the counter holding a vat of soda and a barrel of popcorn. That was par for his usual appetite, so I didn’t think much of it.

But after the three of us had settled in our seats—the bear needed one of his own—Carter held the popcorn over the armrest between us, invading my personal space with the warm, buttery aroma, and shook the tub. “Have some.”

“No, thanks,” I said quickly. I wasn’t hungry. At all.

“What do you mean, no thanks? It cost a fortune.”

I was stunned. At least the previews were already rolling, so we had an excuse not to argue. I heard Max’s voice in my head: I did not like complicated relationships. Maybe I should complicate this one by telling Carter that he shouldn’t buy me something I didn’t want, then act resentful about it and blame the waste of money on me. But Carter should know this already. And I didn’t want to point it out to him, because that might extend our date.

As the movie began, I let my mind wander so I wouldn’t have to watch it. I wondered whether Carter had started the argument as an excuse not to kiss me. Because he didn’t touch me during the film. Not once.

Finally the credits rolled. Carter placed the popcorn container on the floor. It was empty. He stood and stretched himself to ten or eleven feet. I was about to launch into an excuse for why I needed to leave when he said, “Wow, I’m really beat after our scrimmage today. I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Oh, that’s okay!” I said, trying not to sound ecstatic. We walked outside without another word. Pausing at the edge of the parking lot, we and the bear hugged awkwardly, with no kiss.

I said, “Thanks.”

He said, “Happy birthday.”

The bear and I walked to the Benz. I looked around to make sure Carter wasn’t watching me from across the parking lot, then put the bear in the trunk.

Back in the car, I picked up the envelope Max had sent my CD in and plugged the return address into the GPS on the dashboard. I was surprised at the results. His house and mine were only ten minutes apart. A lot closer than my house and Addison’s.

Common sense said I should not go over to my best friend’s date’s house. But I was not going over there to steal him. This was totally different. In the next few days, when I found the words, I would call Carter to tell him I didn’t want to see him anymore. Addison could find another way to go out with Max—meet him in a well-lighted place that her mom would approve of, or rope another majorette into going out with Carter.

Tonight, I only wanted to see Max to make sure he was okay after his scrimmage.

And to say good-bye.

Max’s neighborhood reminded me of the one surrounding Little Five Points, with small yards overflowing with summer flowers. The houses were bungalows from the twenties rather than rambling Victorians. Max’s house was gray wood with a rock foundation, a wide front porch, a red door, and white flowers in the window boxes. It looked so sweet that I hated to disturb his happy family with my teen drama.

I might want to say good-bye, but I didn’t have to do that at nine o’clock at night. It would look weird to his mom. Depending on whether she was one of those moms who got close to her son’s girlfriends, she might mention my visit to Addison. Hell, Max might mention it to Addison.

Though I didn’t think so.

I pulled into their driveway, behind Max’s enormous car, and sat there in the dark for a few minutes, wondering what to do. Should I back out and go home? That was definitely the best plan. But I would not be able to sleep tonight. I would be tortured until I settled things with Carter and Max. I couldn’t leave yet.

It didn’t matter because the decision was made for me. A curtain in Max’s house lifted a few inches, letting golden light escape into the dark yard. Someone inside peered at me. Busted! Next the porch lights and the lights lining the sidewalk blinked on, blinding me.

I guessed that meant I was going in. I felt like a juvenile delinquent as I shuffled up the neat sidewalk and rang the bell.

My heart sped up as footsteps approached. The door opened, and Max’s mom stood framed in the doorway, holding a microphone.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m sorry to come over so late, but I wanted to check on Max and—”

She was looking at my hair. “You’re Gemma! Come on this way.”

Max had told his mom about me. He must like me! But no—he could have told her Carter’s date had striped hair, nothing more. Shutting the front door behind me, I followed Max’s mom through the foyer, into the den. Max’s dad sat in a recliner with a Japanese newspaper open in front of him. Max’s sister wore pajamas and screeched karaoke into her own microphone while she watched her avatar on a video game on TV.

Max was stretched out on the sofa in a T-shirt and track pants, his head cradled on one arm. His other arm, wrapped in a plaster cast, balanced on his stomach. He was sleeping in this room full of racket. I sucked in my breath and moved to stop his mom from waking him.

But she was already stroking his hair and whispering to him in Japanese. He’d told me he couldn’t read his T-shirts, but he obviously understood the spoken language. He sat up in a rush and blinked at me. “Cool shirt, Gladys.”

I had forgotten I was wearing my new-to-me vintage shirt. For him. “Thanks,” I murmured, absolutely certain that no girl had ever blushed this brightly when a boy noticed her bowling shirt. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have come over if I’d known you were hurt.”

Max’s dad had stood and put his newspaper aside. Max stood up too, moving slowly now, like he was sore. His sister had stopped singing and stared at us while the music howled on in the background.

Max glanced uncomfortably around the circle and cleared his throat. “Gemma Van Cleve, this is my dad, Dr. Hirayama, and my mom, the other Dr. Hirayama.”

Max’s dad smiled, said, “Pleasure,” and shook my hand. Max’s mom put her hands on her hips. “How come I am the other Dr. Hirayama and Daddy gets to be the main one? Why can’t Daddy be the other Dr. Hirayama?”

Max stared blankly at her. She grinned.

Max gestured to the girl watching us. “And this is my sister, Taylor.”

“Are you Max’s girlfriend?” Taylor asked. Their mom giggled.

“No,” Max and I said at the same time.

“Why not?” Taylor asked.

“You’re grounded,” Max told her. He turned back to me. “I’m sorry we have to leave. My mother has superhuman hearing, and whatever we say inside the house will get translated into Japanese and repeated on the next seven family-plan phone calls to Tokyo.”

“Max!” his mom exclaimed. “I would never embarrass you. That is complete bullshit.” His dad started cackling.

Max pressed two fingers between his eyes. “Quick, get me out of here.”

“It was so nice to meet everyone!” I sang, pulling him gently by the good arm as I backed toward the door.

They sang back a chorus of good-byes. Max’s mom followed us to the door, speaking to Max in Japanese. He nodded. She reached up and pressed her hands on either side of his face, looking into his eyes, then said, “Okay, then. Have fun,” and shut the door behind us.