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“She’s short. She only comes about halfway up my chest.”

“Hmm…” Beth hummed. “Go on.”

“Her hands are small,” I told her, “and I like the way her eyes look when she smiles.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation.

“Is she in your class?” Beth asked. “A senior, I mean?”

“Yes.”

“She had a lot of boyfriends?”

I almost dropped the bowl I was putting away.

“I…I don’t know,” I finally said. “Some, I think.”

“She’s got the advantage,” Beth said.

My hands started to shake.

“Stop it,” she said with a warning in her voice. “You promised, and we’ve hardly even started. You still want that cake?”

“Yes.”

“Then take a deep breath, get a drink, and join me in the living room.”

I sat in the big, blue, overstuffed chair, and Beth sat on the matching couch. I pulled my knees up so I could wrap my arms around my legs—I felt safer that way—and waited for Bethany to continue.

“You like her?” my aunt asked.

I shrugged. I didn’t know. I didn’t even know what that meant, and I told her so.

“How do you feel when you are with her?”

I shrugged again, and Beth sighed dramatically.

“I’m going to take that cake home to Travis…”

“I don’t know what to say!” I blurted out, a little concerned she would make good on her threat. “I feel…okay with her, I guess.”

“Just okay?”

“Yes…no…I don’t know!” I tightened my grip on my own legs.

“Deep breaths,” she said, reminding me.

The smell of the baking cake was a good reminder, too. I could almost taste it already.

“She makes me feel…calm,” I whispered.

“Calm is good,” Beth said with a nod, and I agreed. “Travis said you talked to her about your mom and dad.”

“A little,” I admitted. “She asked.”

“And you were okay talking to her about them? And Megan?”