Summer was almost over. Fall was settling on Boulder. Normally, I'd be sitting in the window of my bedroom, drawing the beautiful mountains just visible from our second floor, but instead I was on the stairs, eavesdropping on the argument my brother, Larry, was having with his soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend about what had been going on lately. Why was I here? I wasn't entirely sure, myself.

"Angie, why did I see you out yesterday with Darren?" he asked in his calmest voice.

"We were just hanging out." Also calm.

A short pause. "Holding hands?"

A long pause. "Larry." A warning voice. "We weren't holding hands."

Larry sighed. "Look, Angie. You know things have been good between us for the past three months, so why would you ruin it by lying to me? I saw you and Darren holding hands. I watched him kiss you. He admitted everything to me earlier today. Whatever you say can't make matters worse."

It was true – he'd come home earlier looking like something the neighbor's cat had vomited once, and it didn't take much prodding for the whole story to come pouring out.

"Fine," Angie sighed. "Darren and I were on a date." She paused. "It wasn't our first."

Larry was quiet for a long minute. "Out."

"Pardon?"

"Out. Leave. We're over."

"What?" Disbelief.

"I know everything I need to. We're over. Now get out of my house."

I heard a chair scrape, angry footsteps, and then a door slamming. Once there was silence, I went into the dining room and found Larry with his head in his hands. He looked up at me and gave me a weak smile. "Hi, Daisy. I knew you were close by."

"Are you okay?" I walked over and hugged him.

"I will be." He hugged me back and then stood, forcing me to take a step back. "I'm going to my room now. I'll see you at dinner." He stepped around me and went up to his room. Within a minute or two the house was filled with strains of Taylor Swift.

That's how I knew he was hurt. He'd never tell you or let it show, but he always played Taylor Swift at times like this. It was a dead giveaway. I sighed and began dinner. Dad would be home in an hour and his sister, our Aunt Millie, would be home sooner than that. She was a few years older than him and had been divorced. We all loved her to death. She'd moved in when I was five and our parents had just divorced. Mom had moved to Chicago with my two younger brothers. I hadn't seen any of them since.

Well, not unless you count video chat. In that case, I'd seen them a few times.

All I really remember from that time was being in court. Not me or my brothers, but our parents. I remember me and Larry being put in a room somewhere and being told that we were going home with our dad and our mom was going to go away with our brothers, Russel and Michael. I'd talked to Mom, but we'd never gone to see her and she's never come to see us. Her and Dad were on good terms. They had to be, since he talked to her, too, and had been a few times to Chicago to see her. Or maybe the kids were who he went to see. Probably the latter.

Anyway, I prepared dinner to Taylor Swift's entire album. I even hummed along as I plated the food. When it was done, I called everyone and within ten minutes we were all chewing silently. I tried to focus on the food, knowing where the conversation was going to go and hoping for the best.

"So," Aunt Millie said, pausing to speak before taking another bite. "Tomorrow is the first day of the school year for you two. Excited?"

This was how everything began. We'd visited things last year before my sixteenth birthday. Tonight, I'd find out where I stand, and I had a feeling it was in the same place.

I shrugged in response and Larry just pushed his food around, slowly chewing. Noticing, I tried to get the attention away from him. "I guess so. Junior year would be better if I could finally say yes to George when I turn 17." I watched Dad and Aunt Millie closely.

They glanced at each other before Dad took a deep breath. "Then this will be a better year, honey."

I froze, their meaning sinking in as Aunt Millie smiled at me. "Are you serious?"

Dad raised one eyebrow. "Unless you want to wait another year."

I sat up straighter. "No! I mean, I can't believe it. Thank you."

The rest of the dinner was a kind of torture. I kept bouncing between wanting to tell George right now or wait until tomorrow. But my mind was made up for me, as Aunt Millie and Dad went to the den to watch TV, leaving me and Larry to do the dishes. I grinned the entire time we worked. When we were done washing and were drying the dishes and putting them up, Larry finally glanced at me. "You can stop rubbing it in now," he said, an edge of bitterness in his voice.

My smile instantly faded. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to."

He sighed. "No, don't be. I know you weren't trying to. It's just, well." He turned and leaned his back against the counter. "I know how it is the first time. It's so exciting, but the first relationship doesn't last. Not usually, anyway."

I rolled my eyes. "Just because it didn't last for you doesn't mean it won't last for me. I'm seventeen."

"No, you're not – you're still sixteen."

I snorted. "I will be in two months. It's close enough. Anyway, I'm mature. I can make things work."

He raised an eyebrow. "'Make it work' is just one way of saying, 'Even if things don't work out, I'll be the last one to admit to my brother he was right.' You'll just be unhappy, Daze, if you force things. If it's something you don't want, if your boyfriend doesn't work, it's okay to let him go like I let Angie go. It's not worth you being unhappy."

I picked up another plate and dried it slowly while I mulled over what he said. "I don't want to hurt someone."

He rested a hand on my shoulder. "Sometimes, it's okay. He'll be okay eventually. You need to think of yourself, too. When it comes to your forever happiness, you also need to think about the short-term. I couldn't be happy forever with Angie because I wasn't happy with her in the short-term. See what I'm saying?"

I nodded slowly. "I think so. If I'm not happy with George now, I should break things off because in the long-term I wouldn't be happy, either."

"Exactly." He pat my shoulder and went back to drying. We worked in silence for a few minutes and once we were done, we went upstairs. He followed me into my room to see my drawings. I handed him my sketchbook and flopped on my bed, folding my arms under my head. My ceiling fan spun, creating moving shadows from the light of the setting sun. A warm orange glow filled my room as it usually did this time of day.

Paper rustled. "You only get better," Larry said a while later.

My eyes snapped open. I'd begun to nod off. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yep." He closed the book and gently tossed it onto my desk. I sat up and watched him spin the chair. "What do you usually do on a boring weekend night?"

"You mean while you're out having fun?" He stopped spinning and frowned at me. I smiled to show I wasn't upset. "Usually I'm hanging out with Susan, or, the day before school, I lay out my clothes for the week so I don't have to pick every morning. It speeds up my routine."

He glanced around. "Have you done that yet?"

I shook my head. "Nope." I sighed and got up. Larry went back to spinning in my chair while I took a bunch of clothes out of my closet. I matched my outfits, put away the extra clothes, and sat my outfits on the desk behind Larry. The whole time he was just spinning in my chair. "Having fun?"

He stopped the chair suddenly and looked at me, clearly very dizzy. "I'm just bored. Want to go out to get some ice cream or something?"

"Sure."

He nodded, stood, and stumbled to the door, where he caught himself and shook his head. He smiled at me. "Still a little dizzy." He chuckled as he made his way downstairs. I shook my head, smiling, as I followed him. He poked his head into the living room. "Hey, Daze and I are going out for ice cream."

"Be back before ten," Dad called back.

I checked my watch. A quarter to eight. "No problem," I called back before following Larry outside. I didn't even get off the porch before his keys came flying at me. I barely caught them. Once it registered what I had, I looked at him. He was already climbing into the passenger side. I ran over and hurriedly got into the driver's seat. "I can't believe you're letting me drive," I said, grinning like a fool while I put the key in.

"Me either." We looked at each other and he grinned. "Come on, let's go to DQ."

Fifteen minutes later we were eating ice cream and debating whether or not to just walk around. There was plenty enough light, but Larry thought we'd be better off driving around. When he handed me his keys again, I realized he was making an excuse for me to drive. We took a drive through our neighborhood – Highland Park – and then to the next neighborhood, which was my favorite place to go. It gave us a clearer view of the mountains, though the best view of Boulder came from the amphitheater up on the mountainside. Larry and I loved it up there. It was just too late to go out there, though.

After driving around and discussing our classes for the next day, he told me to start heading home. We drove in silence a few minutes before he broke it. "You're waiting to tell George when you see him?"

For a second, I didn't know what he meant, but grinned when I remembered. "I guess so. It's too late to call him tonight." I shrugged. "I can't wait to hear what he says."

I bit my lip when I pictured it. George grinning at me, squeezing my hand, kissing my cheek, calling me beautiful, and then walking me to all of my classes and then sitting with me at lunch, like a real boyfriend. Not to mention him coming over and us going out and showing off that we're together, maybe even double-dating with Susan and her boyfriend.

"You know this doesn't mean you can date him before you turn seventeen, right?" Larry said, making me come back to the present. I looked over at him as I stopped at a stop sign. He watched the road. "It's only permission to date from your birthday forward. You can't go out with George before then."

I frowned as I drove forward. "Why not? It's only two months."

He glanced at me. "Exactly. Only two months. It's barely any time, so you shouldn't have a problem waiting that long."

A nagging worry finally found a voice. "What if he doesn't want to wait?" This was the sum of every worry I'd had since I found out he liked me at the end of sophomore year. I've known George since we were in the seventh grade. I liked him at least since freshman year. I don't know what I would do if I had to give him up to some other girl.

Larry reached over and put a hand on my arm. "If he doesn't want to wait two more months, then he's not someone who deserves you. If he really likes you, he'll wait. I mean, he's waited three months. Two more months are like nothing."

I swallowed hard and glanced at him. "I guess you're right." I tried to memorize what he said. George had to be fine with it. He had to be. He just had to.