There’s a moment when no one’s talking, but everyone’s smiling, and it’s like a whole other world. Not lonely like my dad and I with our TV dinners. Not strained like at Toby’s parents’—he and his father argued like it was a sport. And not fraught and awkward like the Walls’. It’s nice. I’m full. I scoop the rest of my last piece of fish up with my fork and slide it onto Cash’s plate. His eyes widen in surprise, and a huge smile breaks across his face. I resist the compulsion to shrug like it’s nothing. Instead, I smile back. “Thank you,” he says low, for my ears only. “You’re welcome,” I say
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