Jennette McCurdy

“He makes me laugh. I was hoping he’d make you laugh too.”

“Thanks, Poppy Seed.”

“ ’Course,” he says with a nod. “You know, I hope you remember to have fun. Life should be fun for a kid.”

Grandpa bends down, picks up the hose and starts watering the grass again. I look down at Mike, running my thumb over his rubbery skin while I think about what Grandpa said.

Fun isn’t a thing I’m particularly familiar with. Life’s a serious thing. There’s a lot going on in this place. Being prepared and working hard and doing well are far more important than fun.

I can’t let Mom know I’m into purple, since Mom prefers pink. She would be heartbroken if I suddenly announce that I’ve switched my favorite color to one that isn’t also hers. It is an honor that Mom cares about me so much that something like me having my own favorite color would devastate her. True love.

And then she looks at me with her big eyes and I know she doesn’t, she couldn’t, but I almost feel like she’s enjoying this. I almost feel like she’s enjoying the pain. Like it’s a representation to her of how much I care.