Reeve throws up his hands. “All right. I can see that I’m not wanted. Ungracious prick. I’m out.” He yells out toward the pool house, “Merry Christmas, kids! Santa’s getting his ass kicked out.” And then he stumbles off toward the gate.

Nadia and a couple of Alex’s older cousins have come outside; they’re watching us from the front of the pool house with wide eyes.

I take Alex’s arm. “He shouldn’t drive,” I say. “He’s drunk.”

Alex doesn’t make a move; he just watches as Reeve stalks off. I push Alex in Reeve’s direction as hard as I can. “Hurry, Alex!”

Reluctantly, Alex follows him. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive you home.”

Reeve tosses his keys out onto the lawn. “Nah, I’ll walk.”

“Reeve!” I call out. “Let him take you.”

But he’s already halfway down the street, his black puffy coat blending into the night sky. I go looking for his keys, but it’s too dark. Alex comes back to my side and shrugs. “Give me your phone,” I say to him, and he hands it to me. I use it like a flashlight and I comb through the grass.

Behind me, Alex says, “We should go back inside. It’s freezing out here. I’ll find them in the morning.”

I ignore him and keep searching. My fingers finally close on the hard, cold metal, and I clutch them in my hand. Then I hold them up in front of Alex. “You should go after him. He’s drunk; it’s going to take him hours to get home with his bad leg. He could get hit by a car.”

Alex’s face is impassive. “He’s not going to listen. He’s too stubborn.”

“Please try.”

Alex stares at me for a second, and then he says, “What’s going on with you guys?” He runs his hands through his hair and squinches up his face, like he’s afraid to hear the answer. “Please don’t lie to me.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t want to lie to him. I feel like I’ve been lying to everybody lately, and I’m sick of it. Alex deserves better than that.

“We’ve . . . hung out a few times.”

Alex watches me intently. “Did you guys hook up?”

I take a deep breath. “We kissed. But that’s all over with. It was a stupid mistake.” Alex stares at the ground. He won’t look at me. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Alex says, finally looking up. Thankfully, he doesn’t sound angry. Just bummed. He takes the keys from me. “Thanks again for my present.”

“You’re welcome.” I watch as he jogs over to Reeve’s truck, parked in front of Alex’s neighbor’s driveway. He gets in and drives off.

Nadia comes running up to me and asks, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I say, putting my arm around her. “Let’s go back inside.”

The next day, I’m lying on the couch, watching TV and texting with Ash, when my dad comes into the living room and sits down next to me. “What are you watching?” he asks me.

I don’t look up so I can keep texting. “I don’t know, some Christmas special.”

What the h happened at Alex’s?? I heard Reeve showed up and they got into a fight and Lindy kicked him out!

Hardly. Is that what people are saying??

Ren said she had to pick up Reeve off the side of the road!

Of course he called Rennie for a ride. Of course he did. “Have you finished your Wellesley supplement yet?” my dad asks me.

“Yup, pretty much,” I say. It’s almost true because it’s almost done.

Casually he says, “Do you want me to take a look at it before you send it off?”

“That’s okay,” I say. “I already showed it to my guidance counselor.”

What was he even upset about?

No clue. What did Ren say?

She made excuses for him as always. He’s got her on the hook.

So true.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another pair of eyes.” I finally look up from my phone. “Daddy . . . I don’t even know if I want to go to Wellesley.”

Frowning, he says, “I thought we all agreed you’d at least apply.”

“I’m applying, but even if I get in, I don’t know if I want to go there.” I scroll Ash’s and my text conversation and reread what she wrote. “Just because Mommy loved it at an all-girls school, that doesn’t mean I will.”

“I want you to apply so you have the option,” my dad says. “Understood?”

I nod. Fine. I don’t even know if I’ll get in, so whatever.

He clears his throat the way he does when he’s uncomfortable. “The other night at the Linds . . . was that friend of yours drunk?”

I keep my eyes down, but my heart jumps. “What friend?”

“Reeve. That’s his name, right?”

I’m surprised my dad knows his name. My mom probably told him. “No, he wasn’t drunk.” My dad looks skeptical, so I say it again with more emphasis. “He wasn’t drunk, Daddy! He’s not like that. He’s an athlete.”

“All right, all right. I trust you. I just want you to be careful of who you hang out with. Right now you should be focused on your college applications and finishing out senior year well. Don’t get complacent.”

I want to snap back at him, but I don’t, because that’s not done in our family. You don’t talk back. It makes me mad when my dad comes home and tries to play the part of the involved parent when he’s hardly ever even here. He doesn’t have the right to tell me what to do. Calmly I say, “I am very focused on my applications, Daddy. In fact, I’m going upstairs to finish up my common app right now.” I stand up.

“That’s my girl,” my dad says, giving me an approving nod.

When I get up to my room, I flop down on my bed and call Ash. “Rennie and Reeve deserve each other,” I say.

I can hear her munching on something. “I think Ren deserves better. He’s been stringing her along since we were kids. She gives him whatever he wants and he takes, takes, takes. It’s like the freaking Giving Tree.”

I would hardly call Rennie a Giving Tree, but I don’t say so.

Ash continues. “He’s all about himself. He couldn’t care less about anyone else.”

I don’t know if that’s true. In fact, I’m sure it’s not.