“What?”
“That your head and your heart are in two different places. I mean, you were trying to psych yourself up to spend the next four years in the most un-Leo-like place in the world just so you could be with Max. That’s a lot of love.”
“You’re making me sound way more selfless than I am,” he says, pointing at the back of the door, which is covered in printouts of his digital animations. “My heart is in this stuff too. That’s the problem. That’s probably why it feels so broken.”
“It’ll get fixed again,” I say. “Eventually.”
“Is yours?” he asks, and I don’t know if he’s talking about Teddy or if he means what happened with my parents. But either way, the answer is the same.
“Not yet,” I tell him.
Downstairs, Uncle Jake and Aunt Sofia are sitting in the living room with mugs of coffee, already dressed for work and reading different sections of theChicago Tribune.They both look up when Leo and I appear in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” Leo says, flopping onto the second couch, his hands folded neatly over his chest like a mummy.
Aunt Sofia frowns. “We weren’t expecting you back till this weekend. Did something happen?”
“Yes,” he says, but when he doesn’t say anything else both of them turn to me, their faces full of questions. I shake my head, and Uncle Jake just stares harder, but something clicks with Aunt Sofia and she covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes big.
“Where’s Teddy?” I ask, because it’s clear that Leo doesn’t want to talk about Max. At least not yet.
Uncle Jake still looks confused. “Mexico?”
“No, he came back early too. He was asleep on the couch when we went up last night.”
“So that explains why there’s popcorn everywhere,” he says, brushing a few crumbs off the cushion where Teddy was sitting just a few hours ago.
“Leo,” Aunt Sofia says, setting her mug down on the coffee table and leaning forward. “Is everything okay?”
“You should ask Alice about Stanford,” Leo says without looking over, and once again their gazes shift in my direction, then back to Leo, their eyes moving between us as if they’re watching a particularly slow-moving tennis match.
“I got in,” I tell them, and before I can say anything else they’re both up and off the couch—Uncle Jake’s coffee splashing, Aunt Sofia’s reading glasses falling to the floor—and they have me wrapped in a hug that’s noisy with the sound of their celebration. From where I’m smashed between them, I can’t help smiling.
“That’s incredible,” Uncle Jake says, and Aunt Sofia is nodding hard, her eyes wet with tears. Behind them, I can see Leo stand up from the couch, then head off toward the kitchen, presumably to get some ice cream. He gives me a wink as he passes by.
“I’m so proud of you,” Aunt Sofia is saying. “And you know your parents would’ve been proud too.”
I swallow hard. “Thank you.”
“We’ve got to celebrate tonight,” Uncle Jake says. “I’ll make dinner.”
We both stare at him, an uncomfortable silence settling over the room as we contemplate his terrible cooking.
“Fine,” he says, holding up his hands. “We’ll go out.”
“Good idea,” Aunt Sofia says, turning back to me. “So what are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Italian?”
“No, about Stanford,” Uncle Jake says with a laugh. “Though for the record, I’m fully on board with Italian.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised by the question. “Well, I’m going. Obviously.”
Aunt Sofia nods, but there’s something strained about her smile. “When do you have to let them know?”
“Just by May first. But I’m obviously—”
“We should at least talk about some of the other options before you accept. Just so you can see what else is out there. I know you’ve always wanted this, but…”
