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me.”
    He glanced up, flashing me a look. “That’s bullshit.”
    I sucked in a breath through my nose. “I’ll try to get her to talk to you, but I can’t promise anything.”
    “I need to know what’s wrong, Kate. Tell me.” His eyes dug into mine. “Does she not love me anymore?”
    I wanted to tell him that Emily loved him so much, but she wanted her future more than a life with the baby they hadn’t planned for. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the decision she’d made without Jacob, so she broke up with him. If Emily had had the baby, would she have had Emily’s auburn hair? Would he have had Jacob’s black curls?
    And then I started crying for Jacob and Emily, who wanted to be together so badly. They loved each other, but her guilt was messing that all up.
    That’s not the only reason I cried.
    Deep down, I was jealous of that love and I wanted a boy to show up crying for me because he loved me so much.
    “She loves you,” I told him.
    He abruptly stood up. “This is not what love is,” he said, and left my house.
    I start an outline of my body, sitting alone on the couch after Jacob left.
    Then I scribble over it and start a new picture. A picture of Matt teaching me to use Crisco to start a campfire. I smile and reach for my yellow coloring pencil to draw the flames licking at my feet.

snake!
    saturday, june 2 ~ week 1 of 7
    Before going swimming, kayaking, and canoeing this afternoon, Megan’s giving us time to plan our individual sessions. Will’s in charge of the Monday ice cream night, so he’s fiddling with homemade ice cream makers. Brad’s been counting hula hoops, unfolding a giant parachute, and inspecting a tug-of-war rope because he’s in charge of field games. Andrea’s the camp videographer, so she’s playing with various cameras and her laptop. Carlie’s writing out clues for the treasure hunt.
    Matt already cleaned the pool, so he’s lounging in a camping chair, lazily strumming his guitar, playing what sounds like a Hawaiian version of “Kumbaya.”
    I’m inventorying the paintbrushes when Will plops down on the picnic table bench beside my closet.
    “You okay?” he whispers, glancing over his shoulder at Parker. She sees him talking to me and her face looks pained. It’s like she’d rather him talk to a Playboy Bunny than me.
    “I’m fine,” I tell him, placing paintbrushes in a plastic box and storing it on the shelf.
    “Matt said you seemed upset this morning.”
    I focus on my watercolor painting of White Oak and remember the time I found a frog in a bush outside the cabin. He was so scared, he peed on my hand. Part of the reason I like art so much is the escape. The escape into a world that I fill with my colors and music.
    “I’m sorry Parker yelled at you last night,” Will says, lounging against the table.
    I organize the boxes of crayons into a straight line. “I’m sorry if I hurt her,” I tell him. “I didn’t mean to.” I just don’t want someone else to go through the same pain as Emily and me.
    “You should tell her that, not me.”
    I let out a sigh. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”
    “How do you know? She’s a pretty forgiving person.”
    I don’t say anything.
    After a few seconds, he goes, “She forgave me.”
    “What did you do wrong?”
    His eyes meet mine. “Left her when she needed me most.”
    I want to tell him that I don’t have a best friend anymore.
    “Listen,” Will says, drumming fingers on the picnic table. “This is none of my business and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way, but I want to tell you something about your church.”
    I brace myself. “Yeah?”
    “Forrest Sanctuary destroyed Parker after her mom left.”
    I smooth my hair. Until last night, I had had no idea Parker was so badly affected. I mean, she and I were never all that close growing up—I had Emily, after all. And Parker was always fooling around with random guys in high school. So I ask Will about that.
    “Why do you