“What’s your point?” I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I’d heard it all before. From Mary, from Dean, from the counselors they’d made me see when I was eleven.

   He sighed heavily and moved closer so our sides were touching. “I’m just saying that maybe you’re missing out. Maybe if you open your eyes a little you’ll see that it’s not all bad. Maybe it’s okay to let someone in. To let them understand you. Maybe Blake—”

   My breath caught.

   He didn’t let it stop him from continuing. “I don’t know Blake, but neither do you. It’s just—from what I can see—he cares about you. More than you probably know. And I don’t know what’s happening between you two, but he’s trying. I know he’s the first guy—or person really—that you let in, even just for a little bit. But maybe you should try . . . Just try.”

   The lump in my throat ached as much as the pain in my chest. I wanted him to stop talking.

   He threw an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. “I dunno, Chloe. You had a mom who loved you. An aunt who took you in. Foster parents and siblings who adore you. You have a guy interested in getting to know you. If you take all that in, and the life that you’ve built for yourself, maybe it’s worth it. Maybe it’s worth that fifty percent chance at living.”

   I released the sob I’d been trying so hard to contain and dropped my head into my hands. And I cried. I cried for my mom. My aunt. And I cried for Clayton—because he’d never had any of those things.

   “I love you, Chloe. I’m so glad and so honored to know you. To be a part of your life. My point is that maybe others deserve that chance, too.”

   Wiping my tears on his shirt, I whispered, “I can’t, Clay.” I looked up at him. “What would you do if you were me . . . if you thought your time was limited? Would you purposely hurt the people you cared about?”

   He shook his head slowly, his eyes penetrating mine. “No, Chloe, that’s the absolute last thing I’d ever want.” He kissed my forehead. “But I’m glad we had this talk.”

   I sniffed and nodded into his chest. “Me, too.”

   By the time Clayton pulled onto my street, it was early evening. Boys were walking down the driveway and into waiting cars. Some were loading mowers onto the beds of trucks. There had to be more than twenty of them.

   “You coming in for a bit?”

   Clayton nodded as he stepped out of his car. “I’ll just come in and say hi real quick.”

   We walked to the end of the driveway and through the gate into the yard. I heard Dean’s voice before he came into my vision. “Holy shit, kid! This is amazing.”

   I froze.

   The entire yard had been cut back; the grass was short enough that you could actually walk on it. It’d been years since I’d seen it this clean. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. It was the giant play set that’d been built in the corner of the yard. I’d only ever seen such things at playgrounds.

   Sammy stuck his head out the window of the upper level of the playhouse. “Chloe! Clayton! Come look!”

   Blake and Dean quickly turned to us.

   “It’s pretty great, huh, Chloe?” Dean said in awe.

   I couldn’t take my eyes off Blake. His hands were in his front pockets. A slight smile on his face, almost as if he was embarrassed by Dean’s praise. His eyes moved to Clayton next to me, and he jerked his head in greeting.

   Sammy’s childish holler broke through the silence. “Guys! What do you think?”

   I glanced up at him. His smile was so big it was infectious. “It’s amazing, Sammy! It really is.”

   Clayton cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said, speaking to Blake. “You want to show me the playhouse?”

   “Yeah, man,” Blake replied and started to walk away.

   I grabbed his arm before he could get far. “You staying for dinner?”

   He smiled. “You inviting me?”

   I shrugged.

   “I guess I have no choice then.”

   Blake

   Clayton led me to the playhouse and up the ladder. I knew he wasn’t interested in seeing it, but the thought of what he really wanted made me nervous. We sat quietly, waiting for Sammy to tell us everything he loved about the new yard. After a couple minutes, Dean came out and got him so he could wash up for dinner. “You staying?” he asked Clayton.

   He shook his head. “I gotta take off. Blake will just be a minute.”

   It felt weird, him speaking for me. My nervousness escalated, and I wondered what it was about him that I found so intimidating.

   “You could be her change, Blake.”

   That’s it. That’s all he said, before climbing down the ladder and heading out of the yard to the driveway.

    You could be her change.

   I had no idea what that meant, but I knew that I wanted it.

   Mary sighed loudly at the dining table. It wasn’t the first time, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed. “What’s with you?” Dean asked. “You’ve been edgy all day.”

   She seemed to bounce in her seat as she replied, “I don’t know. Something’s off. I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

   Dean eyed her sideways before facing the kids, lifting his hand, and moving his index finger in circles next to his ear.

   “She’s not crazy!” Sammy yelled through a laugh.

   Mary smacked her palms flat on the table. “I can’t handle it.” Then she waved her hands in the air. “I’m getting my diary.” She stood up, shaking her head as she left the kitchen.

   “Crazy, I tells ya,” Dean whispered jokingly. The kids laughed, but I noticed Chloe stayed silent next to me, her eyes fixated on her untouched plate.

   Then Mary walked back in, diary in one hand, the other covering her mouth. Her eyes glazed over with tears. “Oh honey . . .” she said sympathetically, looking straight at Chloe. “I’m so sorry I forgot.”

   “It’s fine,” Chloe answered.

   Mary sat back down. “It’s not fine. I always remember your mother and aunt’s birthday. I’m so sorry.”

   Shit.

   Mary added, “Did you and Clayton have any luck finding it today?”

   Chloe shook her head.

   “Honey.” Mary tried to get her attention.

   She finally looked up from her plate.

   “I’m sorry. Not just for forgetting, but you know . . .”