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I wasn’t going to join him—riding in parades is not on my list of “high enjoyment activities”—but after his thoughtful request this morning to spend more time with each other, I couldn’t say no.

Lisa’s riding in the back with us, along with a few of his other advisors. She has over fifteen pink “I Voted” stickers plastered across her shirt and keeps trying to talk to Dad about Ashtyn, who’s participating in the parade with the other cheerleaders.

I watch closely to see if Dad asks questions about the stickers or if he listens as a guy-dating-a-mother would, but he’s mostly focused on getting as much candy as humanly possible to every kid standing along the route.

Lisa doesn’t seem bothered that Dad’s not paying attention, but after talking about her daughter for the first half of the parade, she shifts to overtly resting her hand on Dad’s arm and giggling at everything he says.

Those stickers have to mean something. She wouldn’t be flirting with dad if she’s guessing someone else is dating him.

On second thought, maybe she would.

To my surprise, he’s also spending more time talking to me than Lisa. He must have sensed something was off yesterday. Not only did we have a sit-down breakfast before the parade, but the very fact that he insisted I join him is going a long way in mending the weird gap between us.

Of course, our words remain surface level—no mention of Archer or Dad’s dating life appears, but I’m okay with it for now. I’m in a considerably better mood, so I happily divide my attention between Dad’s candy throwing and Lisa’s yammering until the parade ends, and I’m back at it, helping Rosie straighten out the kinks of the chalk walk and prepping for the tailgate party until I get to unwind again at the homecoming game for Autumn Ridge High.

Dad and I find each other and sit next to Tom and Ann, eating hot dogs and drinking soda as the football game begins. Tate and Liv sit farther down the row, their eyes shifting around them in between plays, though now I understand their reticence at being out in public.

Jaxon’s somewhere else with Landrie, but Ben sits next to Tate, looking more pensive than usual. Ever since Maven left at the beginning of the festival week, he hasn’t seemed himself. I think the Ednas are almost as crushed as Ben apparently is with the direction the reconciliation is going.

I talk with him for a bit, but I’m not sure how exactly to handle the Maven situation, so I soon move to chat with Luke instead.

“So,” he says, nudging my shoulder with his. “Where are things with you and the cowboy?”

I happily—and quietly—catch him up on all that’s occurred, and he gives me nods of approval with each new revelation.

“You’re killing it. I love it.”

I can’t help but agree. Then I interrogate him on Tess, which he responds to with a less than mediocre response.

“Still haven’t reached out to her,” he says.

“You’re literally killing it. As in, you’re killing your chance to be with her.”

I spend the first quarter of the game forcing him to write out a text to her with a promise that he’ll actually send it, then we focus more on the plays in between visits to the concession stand.

Right after, the seating shifts again. Luke moves down to his brothers, and I sit by Ann, with Dad and Tom in front of us.

“I haven’t heard anything about your time in Boston yet, Juliet,” Ann says with a warm hand tapping my knee. “What’s it like there?”

“Busy,” I say. “Really cool with all the history and transportation. So different from here. But...fun.”

I feel like I’m trying to convince her that I like it, and I’m doing a terrible job at it.

“And how’s college?” She leans on her fist and watches me with attentive eyes. “When do you go back?”

I draw a breath. I don’t know if Dad’s listening or not. Maybe now would be a good time to broach the subject—in front of his friends. “I was planning on January, but now, I’m not positive.”

Sure enough, Dad’s eyes turn to mine with a furrowed brow. “I thought you’d decided on next semester?”

“Well, like I said,” I say as casually as I can, “I was planning on it, but I don’t know now. It depends.”

In reality, I’ve made up my mind, and nothing’s going to change it.

“Since when?” Dad asks, leaning to see me more directly.

Ann stares out at the football game, trying not to impose on what has become a father-daughter conversation.

“I’ve been considering it since before I came back,” I say.