“Be careful with him, okay? Protect your heart. I know we’re, like, genetically predisposed to fall for any boy that plays the guitar. But you are a prize, sis! You don’t need to be anyone’s chick on the side.”

Her words make my body tense. It’snot like that.And I don’t need to be talked down to.

“I’m fine,” I say. I slip into my checkerboard Vans, silently but clearly building up my wall in this brewing battle of the sisters. And because I just can’t stop myself, I throw a bomb over the thing. “Hey, did you ever call Dad back? He told me he tried you a few times this week but kept getting your voicemail.”

Both Mom and Dad told us not to choose sides after the divorce six years ago, even though Dad left us and started his new family. I still see him and talk to him because it’s easier that way; it keeps the peace. But Georgia only sees him when she’s forced to on holidays and doesn’t ever want to discuss that, thank you very much.

“No, I didn’t.” Her face gets all cheery, but I know what a good actress she is, so I’m already bracing myself when she chirps, “You know, that’s who Charlie reminds me of! Dad! I’ve been trying to place it. They both have the same crippling fear of commitment and an inability to keep their hands to themselves.”

I can feel my face on fire again.

And of course that’s when the doorbell rings.

“You know, that’s probably...” she starts, nodding toward our door and raising her eyebrows meaningfully. I know exactly who she’s referring to, and it’s a white flag, pausing combat.

“Yeah, and we haven’t even really talked about...”

“I feel good about it. Do you?”

“I do, but also...” I exhale and shrug.

“I know. Me too.” She bites her bottom lip and takes a deep breath. But just as quickly a mischievous grin takes over her face, and I know our truce is gone. “Or it could be Charlie. Do you think he’ll call Mom Anita again instead of Ms. Tyler? You know shelovedthat.”

I grunt and throw my oversized denim jacket on over the slip dress, sprinting out of the room. Ineedto get to the front door before Mom opens it and makes this night any more awkward.

But of course, Mom is already at the door, and when she opens it, she smiles wide.

“Hey, beautiful!”

I’m relieved it’s not Charlie but the other possible candidate behind Door #1 in this bizarre version ofThe Dating Game(not that Charlie and I are dating!): Andre Dobson. Mom’s first date in... forever.

He walks in and kisses her on the cheek, which makes my breath catch in my throat. Not that it’s wrong, it’s just, I don’t know. Different. I didn’t realize they were like that already. But even though this is their first official date, they’ve been friends foryears. Andre is a PE teacher at the same middle school where mom works as a counselor. I shouldn’t be this surprised.

“I do look good, don’t I?” Mom’s wearing a peach wrap dress that pops against her dark brown skin, with matching tassel earrings and bright red lipstick. The shiny curls from her twist-out bounce as she strikes a pose. Mom’s voice has a lightness to it that’s familiar to me, but it’s strange hearing it with someone else. Usually it’s just reserved for me and Georgia, in the walls of this apartment.

I feel Georgia come up next to me, and she slips her fingers through mine. Another truce.

“Mm-mmm. Yes, you do.” Andre’s whole face is sunlight, beaming at Mom. And then he shines it in our direction. “Hey, you two! Thank you for sharing your mom with me tonight.”

We wave and mumble hello. I feel like an explorer, venturing into a brand-new world. I want to approach slowly and get my bearings.

“But now, what have you got on?!” Mom says loudly, with a sly smile. She steps back and gestures to Andre’s tan pants and button-up in a slightly different shade of tan. “I can’t be walking into the restaurant with a Colors of the World crayon on my arm. You need to step up your game if you want to be my valentine!”

I know she’s joking, but I still tense.

Dad was obviously the cause of the divorce. They never explicitly told us he cheated, but he did move on with Sandra, his now wife, alarmingly fast. I also can’t help but wonder, though, what small part Mom might have played by being just a little too bold, a little too much. By the end, everything about her—her sarcastichumor, her strong convictions—triggered Dad and led to an inevitable fight.

But I guess Dad wasn’t always like that. He had to have laughed at her jokes and been charmed by Mom’s big personality. They had us young, though—their wedding anniversary only five months before my birthday. Before Dad stepped into the executive position at Grandpa Cole’s company that’s been waiting for him since birth. Before he started thinking he needed a life, and a wife, to match. And Mom is not someone who will let herself be molded by anyone. No matter how good it started between them, it was bad as far back as I can remember.

So how do you know when it’s going to shift? I don’t want to see the same thing happen with Andre. For their relationship to blow up before they’ve even really begun.

“Nah, nah. My fourth period said the monochrome look is in!” Andre says. He juts out his hip and throws one hand behind his head, striking his own goofy pose. “You need to get hip like me, Annie!”

Georgia rubs her thumb across my hand, and I realize just how tight I was gripping her. Right. Andre isn’t like Dad. But I still wish Mom would be more careful.

“Well, if you two young ladies are still all right with it,” Andre says, looking at us again, “I’m going to take this beautiful woman out on a date. Now, tell me, what’s her curfew for the night? Be easy on us here!”

Georgia crosses her arms. “I think ten is reasonable. Because nothing you have any business being involved in happens afterten—at least that’s what she tells me.”