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with things.”
    “Sounds great,” my dad called over his shoulder as we walked away. As soon as we were outside, he added, “I assume you were just being polite.”
    “I don’t know. She was cool. So maybe.”
    My dad unlocked the doors to his old-man sedan with the automatic clicker. “Good. I really think you’d like Sarah’s youth group. It’s a very different kind of church than the one we used to go to, Neilly.”
    “So I gathered.”
    We drove a few blocks in silence, but just as I reached out to turn on the radio, my dad stopped me. “I know you’re upset with your mom, but please give her a break. She’s been through a lot.”
    “ She’s been through a lot?” I snorted.
    “She has, and so have you,” he said, turning into my driveway. “Just know she never meant to hurt you.”
    I shrugged. I figured it was probably true.
    “And neither did I, you know?” he added.
    “I know,” I said, wondering why things couldn’t just be easy—and normal—for a change. “I love you, Daddy.”
    “Love you, too, pumpkin.”

CHAPTER FIVE
DECLAN
    ONCE NEILLY LEFT THE CHURCH, THE WHOLE SITUATION suddenly didn’t seem so funny anymore. Also, since Neilly wasn’t crying (or present to witness my unmanly tears), it seemed like it was my turn. I felt my eyes fill up, and I started sniffling. Fortunately, Aunt Sarah saved the day.
    “So do you want a cup of coffee or something?” Aunt Sarah asked. Sarah and Lisa are complete caffeine fiends, and they got me hooked on the stuff.
    “Sure,” I said. Back we went to Sarah’s office, and I sat there and sipped my Equal Exchange Fair Trade Organic French Roast and sat in the comfy chair while Aunt Sarah sat behind her desk and pretended to work on her sermon. Above her head was the big banner that had hung over the church doors during the antigay-referendum thing a few years ago. LOVE MAKES A FAMILY , it read.
    The coffee was bitter and dark. I take it black, like my metal.
    I knew Aunt Sarah well enough to know what she was up to. Maybe this was something they taught her in minister school. Whereas Dad will pester me with questions and get a nasty argument out of the deal, Aunt Sarah’s weapon is silence. She’s perfectly happy to sit there all day and wait me out, figuring that I’ll fill the silence.
    Come to think of it, maybe introducing me to coffee was another stealth get-the-surly-teen-to-open-up move, since I get a little motormouthed when I’m under the influence.
    Joke’s on her—I usually talk about Norwegian black metal.
    Not today, though.
    Halfway through my cup of coffee, this came spilling out of my mouth: “I mean, he could have just hung up a sign that says, ‘I’m done with Declan, time for act two,’ right? I mean, what the hell is that about? New kid. I bet he just can’t wait for me to get the hell out of the house so he can start his new, tragedy-free life with his kid who won’t be damaged.”
    Aunt Sarah looked up from her computer. “Is that really what you think?”
    “Well, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
    She sighed, closed her laptop, and said, “Declan. You know I love you, right?”
    I suddenly found my shoes very interesting. “Yeah,” I said quietly. I mean, I love her, too, but it’s obvious! Why make life uncomfortable by talking about it?
    “So,” she continued, “I want you to hear what I have to say, knowing that it comes from the deep love I have for you.” I didn’t say anything. “Don’t be an idiot.”
    I’ve seen this in the movies but never really believed in it. But I choked on a mouthful of hot coffee and spat it on the floor of Aunt Sarah’s office.
    She laughed. “I was trying to get it to come out your nose, but that’ll do.”
    I laughed in spite of myself. “What do you mean?”
    “Go get a paper towel and I’ll tell you.”
    As I wiped up the coffee, Aunt Sarah said, “Declan, your dad has been living for you for the last six years. I’m not exaggerating. I’ve had a