Pearl is already in her pajamas when I come home, but she still wants to know all the details. Where did we go? How did the date go? Was there a kiss?

I’m sitting in the kitchen and having second dessert—my nerves are wired and I need it—and doing the best to field her questions when the house phone goes off. She picks it up, talks briefly, and then gives me a sly smile. She puts her hand over the receiver and says in a sing-songy voice, “It’s Jaaaay-son.”

I nearly choke on my cookie. Quickly, I scramble to my feet and dash upstairs. “I’ll take it in my room!”

Cue me tripping over my own elephant feet to get into my bedroom, shutting the door, and quickly lifting the receiver: “Got it, Pearl! Thanks!”

“Keep it PG, darlings,” Pearl says before she hangs up the phone and I want to crawl under my bed.

“Hi,” I say, forcing the word in a hard breath.

“Hey.” I can practically hear Jason’s cocky smile on the other end. “Your mom’s hilarious.”

I sit down on the edge of my bed. “How’d you get my number?”

“Well, technically, it’s Terry’s number. And he and my dad are friends. So.”

“Oh.” Duh. “What’d you want?”

“So that date didn’t really go as planned.”

I scoff. “What…so you’re calling because you’re mad I didn’t kiss you?”

“No. That’s not what I’m talking about. I didn’t get to ask you all the questions I wanted to ask you.”

“Like?”

He pauses, then he asks: “Can we play a game?”

“Like?”

“Truth or dare.”

“Okay…truth.”

“Why do you feel like you have to hide?”

I pause. Whoa. That wasn’t the question I expected him to ask. Maybe something like does the carpet match the drapes or do you shave down there? Not something…real.

I lean back against the huge, fluffy pillow against my headboard and deliberate my answer. “I guess…I’ve always like I’m getting in the way. Like I’m…”

“Trouble?”

“Yeah. Like that.”

“Well, you are trouble,” he tells me, his voice serious, “but you’re not in the way. Hannsett Island is better with you in it.”

Butterfly wings tickle my chest.

“Truth or dare, Jason?”

“Truth.”

“Have you always been a hair-trigger?”

“I guess sometimes I get a little…worked up.”

“Go on…”

“It’s like…I feel things. Really intensely. When I get angry, I see red and I can’t back down.”

I sigh dramatically. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but…if you want to be a doctor someday, I’m pretty sure you’re going to need to be able to keep a cool head in stressful situations.”

“Yeah. You’re not wrong about that.”

“Have you tried yoga?”

Yoga?”

“Yeah. It’s like a sweat room full of MILFs doing downward dog. You’ll love it.”

He’s chuckling again, at least. That’s an improvement.

“Follow up question,” I add, “Is there anything that calms you down?”

He thinks about it. Really considering. “Water,” he says.

“Water? Like…looking at water? Drinking water?”

“Swimming. I love swimming.”

We go on like this all night:

“Truth,” I say.

“What scares you?” Jason asks.

“Relying on other people. If I can’t do something myself, I panic.”

“Kenzi is not a team player. Got it.”

“Truth,” Jason says.

“Most embarrassing moment?” I ask.

“Easy. My swim meet last year. I had a stomach bug. I pushed through it anyway. Swam like a beast. Won first place.”

“Wow, how embarrassing for you.”

“It was, when the judge brought me my medal and I threw up on her. Like the exorcist. It was ugly.”

“Truth,” I say.

“What’s your favorite memory?”

“Christmas time. I was eight. It was the first year me and Pearl were on our own. Her cooking is…questionable, at best. So we went out and got Chinese food.”

Jason chuckles. “Is that a real thing people do?”

“In New York? Yeah.”

“What’d you like about it?”

“I liked that it was just the two of us. We just…got to goof off together. We had a chopstick tickle fight. Stupid kid things.”

“I love stupid kid things.”

“Me too.”

“Truth,” Jason says.

“Is it easier for you to talk to me over the phone?” I ask.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Why?

“Sometimes, I feel like I’ve got to put on this face. I feel like people expect me to be a certain way. And then I just…become that.”

“An asshole?”

“No, I mean…perfect. My dad is always like…you’re either a winner or a loser. There’s no in between. And I get it, he expects big things from me, but…I don’t know.”

“It sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“Yeah. Exactly. Right now, it’s like…I’m just talking to air.”

“Air that talks back.”

“Something like that.”

We lapse into silence and, for a minute, I just listen to him breath on the other end. I can feel the air between us, through the phone cords.

Through my curtains, the sky starts to glow orange.

“Pick dare,” I tell him. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he obliges.

“I dare you to hang up.”

There’s a long silence on the other end and, for a moment, I think he did it.

“Jason?”

“…I dare you to hang up.”

I can’t help but grin.

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