What had she done?

Over the years, the question had sprung to mind on more than one occasion. She asked herself this whenever she stayed up all night writing a song, or when she and Willow ate too much takeout and spent the rest of the night bloated and feeling, as the Oxford student described, "icky." The question—the accusation—had been all but surgically implanted in her head since she was eight, when her mom died.

And the question occurred to her on the 23rd of May, when she turned to Nolan and said, without thinking, "I am."

She offered him a job. A job. And a job making a music video at that.

"You're not going anywhere."

What if he'd said yes? She couldn't make a music video. That would be like slapping her dad across the face—stating she didn't care what he thought of what she deserved, because she was determined to make something of herself anyway.

But he didn't say yes. Everything was fine.

What had she done?

On a loop, the thoughts ricocheted around her head, growing steadily in decibel—what had she done—what if Nolan had said yes—she couldn't make her music official—what would that be saying to her dad—everything was fine—what had she done?

"Garner, you're up!"

She blinked, and she was back at Ashfield Park. Andy gestured for her to step into the tetherball ring—one of the four that stood a yard away from the faded cement of the basketball court. For the past twenty minutes or so—when her friends had finally dried enough to where they weren't actively dripping—they'd embarked on a tetherball championship. Nora was honestly surprised she'd made it this far. It was the second to last match—only Max and Nolan remained standing.

She stepped into the ring and flexed her fingers. "You ready?" she asked, wriggling her eyebrows.

"Yup," Nolan said.

She wondered why he really said no to her offer. She was grateful, of course, but there was something hiding behind his guilt. When she'd offered, his expression had brightened, only to fall to a tense set in his jaw and shoulders. What did he have to fear? Had she really crept him out that much?

She winced. As relieved as she was to not have to scramble to deal with the consequences of her actions, the idea of him being uncomfortable around her stung.

Nolan hit the ball first, and it soared toward her. She nearly missed it—and definitely tripped on her own two feet—but she slapped it back toward him before the rope could wind around the pole.

He sent the ball back with ease. Had he played tetherball on the playground, too, when he was growing up?

Where had he grown up? He could have grown up in Greeley, obviously, but she hadn't seen him around until last year, and while Greeley High certainly wasn't small, it wasn't necessarily large either. And between her, Andy, Max, and Willow, they knew basically everyone.

"Yes!" she squealed as the ball wrapped once around the pole. She slapped it again—

And Nolan sent it back, undoing all of her hard work.

"Ha ha!" Andy teased.

Willow tapped him lightly upside the head.

"Okay, you can go back to England now," Andy said.

"But, Candy Cane," Willow drawled, "if I go, you'll be the only one in the band who sucks at singing."

"Ah-ha!" Andy thrust an accusing finger at Nora. "You tattled. That's why she threatened to eat me first."

"Willow eats people?" Riley asked. Her mouth dropped, and she took a tentative step away. Nora laughed.

"Oh, yes," Andy said.

Willow rolled her eyes. "No, I don't," she said. "Besides, Andy's not people."

"Hey!"

"Well, you are a candy cane," Riley said. Nora was so glad they'd creatively nicknamed him Candy Cane—after his name, Andy Cane—in first grade.

Nolan whipped the ball, and she dove—not fast enough. It rounded the pole once, twice, three times.

She was able to keep the ball from wrapping entirely around the pole for another two minutes, but, alas, she wasn't meant to be a tetherball champion.

"And Nolan makes it to the finals!" Andy announced. He sauntered over to Nolan and thrust his fist in the air. Nora folded her lips to suppress a smile. The poor guy looked so uncomfortable.

"Good effort, good effort," Willow said, looping an arm around Nora's shoulders.

"Thank you." Nora bowed her head. With a laugh, she held her hand out across the pole. "Good game," she said to Nolan.

He shook her hand. "Good game," he said.

"Oooh, a tetherball championship, huh? Am I too late to tag in?"

Nora spun. "Rachel!"

Her aunt grinned and stretched out her arms. Nora scurried into them. "Oh, it's so good to see you!" Rachel said, squeezing her tight. Nora pressed her face into Rachel's red hair, which curled down her shoulders. It'd gotten longer in the two months since she'd last seen her aunt. Like Willow, Rachel thought it necessary to periodically leave the country—though, granted, for shorter periods of time.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Rachel said once they pulled away. She sent her beaming smile toward Willow. "And welcome home, Willow! Good lord, girl, have you grown?" She looked down. "Op, just heels."

"Sorry to dash your hopes and dreams."

"I'll die disappointed, and I blame you."

Nolan tensed. It was barely noticeable—just a flash of his fingers tightening into fists. Her eyebrows creased.

"Who wants cake!" Nathan shouted from one of the clusters of picnic tables.

All around, heads perked. Max and Erin made a run for it, and Andy was quick to follow. Despite Nora's intense desire for an end piece, she sauntered along with Rachel, Willow, Nolan, and Riley.

"Can you give me a piggy-back ride?" Riley asked, tugging on Nolan's sleeve. Aww! The six-year-old was so adorable Nora could explode.

She expected Nolan to say no, but he knelt down and let Riley climb onto his back. Okay, now she could explode. Awwwww!

"Hey, you too cool to drive back home with me after the barbecue?" Rachel asked.

Nora tensed. She hadn't cleaned. Her dad hadn't been warned. "You're coming over?" she asked.

"Yup!" Your dad has already been fully informed," she said. "He said something about setting up the guest room?"

A smile burst onto her lips. Rachel's staying the night.

Hardly anyone ever stopped by her house anymore. Since her mom died, Nora had always slept over her friends' houses, and she never offered her place for daily hangouts. This was never questioned, just accepted as the way of things. But, with Rachel, it was different. When she was around, a spark of the dad Nora once knew returned to his eyes. And when Rachel spent the night, he went to bed as close to sober as Nora could ever hope for him to be.

"Okay," she said.

✝

"So, what's new with you, honey bunches of oats?"

Nora rested her head against the headrest of Rachel's Jeep Cherokee and did her best to loosen her tightening stomach. While she knew her dad would make sure to be presentable today, and that the night would go by relatively smoothly, she always found it was more difficult to convince her body than her mind. While positive thoughts definitely helped, she often found they did little to ease what the body had been trained to avoid.

"Nothing much," she said. "Andy got a haircut."

"Riveting."

"I thought so."

Rachel laughed. "How have you and your dad been? Faring okay without me?"

Nora snorted, disguising her apprehension with a smile.

"Hey, now," Rachel said. "Don't hurt my feelings, or I won't make you blueberry pancakes."

Nora gasped. "We missed you every second of every day," she said. "Literally, you were all I thought about."

"Better."

"So, I get pancakes?"

Rachel plucked her sunglasses from the cup holder and put them on. "You know," she said, "I'm feeling a little used."

"In a good way?"

"Like Crayola."

Nora scrunched her face. "What does that even mean?"

"Honey, I have no idea."

The rest of the way back to Nora's house was much of the same. They bantered, they laughed, they caught up. Nora heard stories about Rachel's latest adventures in Paris, and Rachel heard stories about Nora and her friends.

They reached Nora's street, and for the first time in a long time, Nora knew her dad would smile when he opened the door. It had been so long since she'd seen him smile. And though it obviously wouldn't be for her, she couldn't wait to see it.

And, sure enough, as soon as Rachel parked next to his blue Tacoma, he was out on the porch, a broad smile on his face. "Hey," he said.

Rachel grinned. "Hey, big bro! How's it been?"

His eyes found Nora. "Good," he said. "Same old, same old."

Nora closed the door behind her and followed Rachel up the driveway. She treaded carefully, saying nothing more than necessary.

"I'm sorry for the mess," her dad said as he closed the door behind him. "This one here can be a tornado."

He wrapped an arm around Nora and ruffled her hair. She thanked God for stopping her from flinching.

"You would hate my house if you ever visited," Rachel said. She shirked her sweater and hung it on the coat hanger, which was mounted into the wall next to the door. Nora copied, setting her light cardigan on one of the hooks.

"You would have to be there for me to visit," her dad joked.

Rachel stuck out her tongue. "I'm raiding your kitchen and making pancakes."

Did he remember to hide his stash under the sink? But of course, he did.

Nora started to follow Rachel out of the foyer, into the kitchen, when her dad called her back. "Hey," he said. "I just cleaned. Trying to mess it up already, are you?"

There was laughter in his voice, but there was an edge, too. She turned, eyebrows creased, to find her cardigan on the floor. "Oops, sorry," she said, and hurried to pick it up. She used the tag to secure it to the hook. "Must have slipped off."

"No worries," he said. "Just joking with you."

She forced a smile. I wish you were.

"Yo!" Rachel called. "Stop moving the kitchen around. I'm too easily confused."

He chuckled and started for the kitchen. "The batter is in the lazy Susan like it always is," he said.

"No, it's not!" A pause. "Oh. I found it."

Nora leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed loosely over her chest. As Rachel and her dad laughed and cooked and prepared plates and silverware, warmth battled with guilt's cool hand. He would still be happy like this, if it wasn't for her.

"You killed her."

"Nora, tell my brother that blueberries are the best pancake topping, not chocolate chips," Rachel said, twisting away from the stove.

She grinned. "Both are good."

"You're no help."

"That's Nora for you," her dad said.

✝

"So, let me get this straight," Willow said.

Nora pressed her lips together as she snuggled into her pillow, eyes on her laptop, which she'd placed next to her on her bed. Despite Willow's clear jet lag, she was determined to stay up until at least midnight. Nora, however, wasn't that dedicated, and was close to falling asleep at 11:13.

"So, Nolan needed a job."

Nora bit her lip. "Yeah."

"And you told him you had one."

"Yeah."

"But you didn't."

She grimaced. "Yeah."

"What job did you tell him you had?" Willow asked.

Her grimace deepened. Why had she brought this up? She'd done her best to let it go, and actually had for a little bit, in the car with Rachel. However, an evening of side comments and "light" quips had re-stirred the worry inside her. And now, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get her mind to settle. What if Nolan changes his mind? What are you going to do?

And so, she did what she almost always did when she was conflicted about something: she went to Willow.

"I told him I wanted to make a music video," she said.

"Ooh, that actually sounds fun."

It did, and that was the problem.

"I don't have any equipment or any idea what I'm doing," Nora said. "And I'm honestly not sure if I have enough money."

Willow winced. "Oh."

"Help me."

She laughed, but it was cut off by a loud yawn. A long, loud yawn. Nora's eyebrows rose. It was actually kind of impressive. "Okay," Willow said when the yawn finally ended, "he said no, right?"

"Right."

"So, there's nothing really to worry about."

"I kinda left the offer open."

Willow pressed a hand to her face. Nora would have laughed if the motion didn't stress her out so much. "Okay," Willow said. She didn't sound surprised, which made sense, seeing how Nora always left her offers open and it would occasionally, like now, come back to bite her in the butt.

"He didn't change his mind about sitting with us at lunch," Nora said, hopeful.

"Yeah, but if he's desperate enough he could change his mind about this," Willow said. "Money is a whole different ballgame, you feel?"

Shit.

"If he says yes, it's not a big deal. We'll budget how much you promised him, and make the whole video as cost effective as possible."

Nora bit her lip, hating how a piece of her bubbled with anticipation. A video of my music! On the Internet! it cried. But she squashed it down. "Okay," she said.

"Yeah. Just make a plan in case he does say yes," Willow said. "What else did you tell him?"

"That you guys were volunteering," Nora said.

"Okay, well, yeah, that's obvious," Willow said. Nora sagged, relieved. "So, I would just let the rest of them know what might be coming if Nolan changes his mind."

"Do I have to tell them before then?" Nora asked. No, no, no. She couldn't tell them without having legitimate cause. What if they got excited and insisted on actually going through with it? Andy had pestered her about making a YouTube channel before, back when they were freshmen. His enthusiasm about her "music career" hadn't faded at all since.

"I mean, you don't have to," Willow said, "but you might want to. Like, if you don't mention it to them beforehand, they could feel like this huge project is being thrust on them without a choice, you know?"

Nora winced. Willow was right. What did you do?

"Everything will be fine, 'kay?"

"'Kay."

A knock on the door made her jump. "Come in," she said. Her dad wouldn't knock.

The door opened, and Rachel poked in her head. "Just saying good night," she said.

"You're going to bed this early?" Nora's eyebrows shot upward.

"No, but I'm going out for a bit and am pretty sure you'll be passed out by the time I get back."

Nora smiled. "Night."

Rachel blew her a kiss and shut the door.

"What you said," Willow said.

"Tired?"

"Definitely not."

They ended the call. Nora stared up at the darkened ceiling, gut twisting, hands furling and unfurling. Nolan wouldn't change his mind. And even if he did, it would be fine. She had enough money saved up for a few emergencies. This could count as one.

Screwing me again. Her dad's voice seared her mind.

What did you do?