Jennie left without coming inside after our conversation on the porch. I think she was more put off than she’d seemed by my rejection, and as I took the stairs up to my room, I wondered if I’d have been better off letting her think I was straight. Now the idea would always be in the back of both of our minds, even if I never let us actually go there.

I was upset with Hoony, but I knew I had to call him now. He was the only one I could talk to about Jennie.

I used the telephone, but he had the number saved and knew it was me. He seemed hesitant when he answered. “Lisa?” 

“Forget about last night,” I told him. “I was pissed off and emotional. It doesn’t matter anymore. Jennie turns 24 on September.”

He was silent for a long time. I picked at the comforter of my bed as I waited for his thoughts. “...How are you?” he asked at last. 

“That’s it?” I countered. “No advice? No telling me I should’ve known better?” 

“It’s not your fault you like her,” he murmured. “Sometimes that stuff can’t be helped. It happens.”  

“I guess.” I let out a breath. “The only good thing about this is that it has to be an accident. Right? I mean, barring the infinitesimally small chance that she has some rare brain tumor that’s suddenly going to kill her, it has to be an accident.”

“Another car accident,” he mused quietly. I felt my heart clench in my chest. 

“Well... I can watch out for that.” 

“How? By making sure she never uses a vehicle over the summer?”

“I don’t know. I could drive her everywhere, maybe...” 

“No,” he cut in, so forcefully it startled me. “If it really will be a car accident, you shouldn’t get into a car with her, Lisa.” 

“Unless my age of death is 22, I think I’ll be fine, Hoony.” 

“You can still get seriously injured,” he reminded me.

“So if I can’t stop an accident by driving her myself, how do I stop it?” I asked, realizing too late that his answer would be indicative of his usual philosophy. 

“Lisa, I don’t think you can.” 

“I’m going to try,” I insisted. “Even if I have to be her chauffer all summer and spend every hour of my spare time being with her and checking up on her.” I set my jaw. “Everything I didn’t and couldn’t do for my mom.”

Hoony didn’t respond, but I knew what he was thinking. He didn’t believe I could do it. I was determined to prove him wrong. 

Later that day, Dad finally got to have the conversation he’d wanted. I initiated it by entering his office and offering him my SIM card. “Do you have an old cell phone I can put this in?” 

He sighed and nodded, taking the card from me. Then he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap.  

“Lisa, you know I love you dearly,” he began, “but I think we both know that things have been different since your mother passed. I’ve been different, particularly.”

He paused, and I stared at him, waiting for him to go on.  

“Bo A and I met online a few months ago. She lives in the area, and her husband passed away in a fire a couple of years ago. He was a firefighter. Talking to her...” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Everything I’d been throug