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“Buzzkill.”

“My apartment is a buzzkill.”

“True.” Tara widened her legs as if she were about to do the splits. “You need some color pops. Everything is black and gray like your heart.”

He grumbled under his breath. “You clearly get your dramatics from your mother’s side.”

She popped back up. “Speaking of Mom, you should bring her over to your place to help decorate. It could use a woman’s touch.”

There was a subtle implication hidden in her tone.

I worried my lip, silently watching the interaction as my eyes ping-ponged between father and daughter.

Reed tensed beside me. His thigh was gently brushing mine, so I felt the way his muscles tightened. Before he could respond, a voice called out from behind Tara.

“Stephens!” a boy from school shouted. “Catch.”

A basketball whirled through the air, landing in Tara’s outstretched hands. She glanced at us, a tiny grin tipping her mouth. “That’s Josh. Be right back.”

She skipped away with the basketball tucked underneath her armpit.

Ladybug lay back down on my feet.

I forced my attention to stay locked on Tara as she reached the blacktop and dribbled the ball, skillfully sidestepping Josh and taking a shot.

Swish.

“I saw you taking pictures earlier,” Reed said. “How’s that going?”

I braved a glance at him. “It’s just one of those disposable cameras from the convenience store.”

“Gotta start somewhere.”

“It was a good idea. Thank you.”

He nodded, and I slid a hand into my bookbag to pull out the camera. I tilted it toward him, my index finger hovering over the capture button.

“I don’t like being in pictures.”

I faltered. “Really? Why not?”

“Don’t know. I guess I prefer the fluidity of experiences, the way they come and go without being confined to a frame.”

Lowering the camera, I studied him through the lens of two curious eyes. “That’s an interesting take.” Then I held up the camera again, waving it around with a cheeky grin. “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

He stared at me for a beat, looking thoughtful, before pursing his lips with a light shrug. “Fine, but just one. Better make it count.”

“No pressure or anything.” Inhaling a breath, I lifted the yellow-and-black Kodak camera and placed it in front of my right eye. I watched him through the cloudy lens as he stared straight ahead, expressionless. This wouldn’t do. I bumped my knee against his, trying to get a reaction. “Smile or something.”

“No.”

“Reed, come on. There are literally no pictures of you at Tara’s house.”

He said nothing.

I bumped his knee again, and still nothing. I pinched his arm. He frowned, glancing at the contact before sliding his gaze up to my face.

“Are you ticklish?” I wondered.

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