“I know it was coming from a good place,” Palmer said, shaking her head. “But—”
“I know,” I said. “I was trying to control everything, because the thought of not having you guys . . .” I let out a shaky breath. “But I shouldn’t have interfered like that.”
Palmer nodded. “I know you were trying to help, in your own, very not helpful way,” she said, and I smiled. “But I overreacted. And I’m sorry, Andie.”
We just looked at each other for a moment, and then Palmer reached out to hug me, and I hugged her back, tight, neither of us moving for a few moments. When we broke apart, it felt like I’d just put down a really heavy burden I’d been carrying for too long, like something had finally been set right.
“What’s happening with them?” I asked when we stepped apart, hoping somehow that would have worked everything out.
Palmer shook her head, and those hopes were dashed. “Bri’s trying,” she said, shaking her head. “She’s apologized over and over again, but Toby won’t listen. I’ve barely seen her.” She looked over at my car and seemed to notice the keys in my hand for the first time. “Wait, are you leaving?”
“No,” I said, then hesitated. “Well, kind of. I was going to go talk to Clark. . . .”
“Clark,” Palmer said, her eyes widening. “Really? I was sorry to hear about you guys. . . .”
“Well—” I started, taking a deep breath, “Here’s the thing. I need to go tell him that I love him.”
“Andie!” Palmer looked at me like she wasn’t exactly sure who I was.
A beep sounded from my bag on the passenger seat, and we both looked over at it, just as another one sounded. “Just a second,” I said, leaning in and pulling it out. “It’s Topher,” I said, looking at the screen, turning it so I could read it in the glare.
Palmer raised a disapproving eyebrow at me. “Topher?”
“No,” I said immediately, then realized this wasn’t entirely correct. “Well, kind of. A little, but never again.” Palmer frowned, and I realized just how much there was to catch her up on. “I’ll tell you later.”
“What’s he want now?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.
I stared at the texts, trying to make sense of them. “I’m not sure.”
TOPHER
Hey, don’t let your dad do the campaign thing today
Heard my mom saying something
Think it’s a bad idea.
I looked at Palmer, who was reading over my shoulder. “Okay, what is wrong with him?” she asked, shaking her head. “He can’t be bothered to give you like a smidge more information?”
“I’ll call him,” I said, pulling up his contact info, wondering why this was happening now. I was supposed to be halfway to Clark’s by now, practicing what I was going to say to him, gathering all the courage I could muster. I wasn’t supposed to be trying to decode Topher’s texts. But I had a not-so-great feeling as I waited for his phone to ring. Topher almost never told me things like this, mentioned things that could impact either of our parents.
“Hey,” he said, picking up on the fourth ring.
“Hey,” I said, pulling my phone back from my ear to look at the texts once more. “I got your texts.”
“I figured,” he said. “Hang on.” There was a small pause, and then I noticed that things had gotten much quieter on Topher’s end—like he’d just stepped inside, or gotten into his car, or something.
“What’s he saying?” Palmer whispered, poking my arm.
“Nothing yet,” I whispered back to her.
“Sorry,” Topher said, his voice much clearer now. “Look, I shouldn’t even be doing this. But I heard my mom saying something last night . . . something about how the governor is just using your dad as a prop.”
“A prop?” I repeated, feeling myself frown. “What do you mean?”
“I guess people have been saying he’s not aggressive enough. So when your dad’s onstage, he’s basically going to point to him as an example of everything that’s wrong with politics.”
“To his face?” I asked, feeling sick. I couldn’t even think about what this would do to Peter’s plan. If this happened before my dad’s announcement, his press conference, the whole narrative Peter was crafting wouldn’t work. Which was maybe what the governor was counting on.
“I think so,” Topher finally said after a silence. “From what I could hear, at least.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding, trying to figure out what to do with this information. “I’m going to call my dad.” I looked over at Palmer, who mouthed What? at me.
“Probably a good idea,” Topher said. Silence fell between us for a moment, and I thought back to how we’d left it, how awkward it had been—and then realized that he had texted me anyway.
“Thank you,” I said, hoping he would know that I meant it.
“Sure,” Topher said, then, “I’ll see you, Andie.”