Everly spied my I.D. for a moment, briefly touched it with her fingers. "Is this one of your questions? One of your I-want-to-walk-you-home-questions?"

"That's a good idea, actually. I was on my way home. Come with me. Keep me awake with your smile."

"You're never short on flattery. I'll give you that much, Callum Andrew."

"It's not flattery. I'm simply abiding by your standards."

"And what standard is that?"

"I'm telling you the truth."

"Well thank you for that." She reached to my shirt, shooing a fluff of lint away. "But I can't walk home today. Doctor's orders."

"Oh good," I sighed. "Because I drove to school."

She laughed. "So you'll have three whole minutes to ask me your take-me-home questions. I bet they'll be riveting."

"Can I ask you one before we leave?" I stood and she stared up at me. "May I hold your hand?"

"We're in the hospital," she answered quietly.

"When we get to my car then?"

Everly looked away for a moment, and then stood.

I don't remember the name of her favorite book, because I was holding her hand when she told me the title. I drove unlawfully slow, drawing out our time together so I could savor her fingers sliding in and out of mine as she talked. I asked her about the Peter Pan book she gave me so I could focus on driving. "Why are there so many passages blacked out with pencil? Like you colored over them?"

Her fingers squeezed firmer. "It's not blacked out. It's how I highlight the parts of a story I love. If I used a marker it would bleed through the pages."

"You highlighted a lot of passages in a book you swear to hate," I laughed.

Her fingers stopped moving, and I felt the drift, when she always wanted to pull away and hide. I threaded my fingers back and forth through hers, as if I was speaking secretly to her through my touch, as if my thumb could tell her wrist that I thought about her nonstop when she was away, or that my fingertips could tell the back of her hand, as I squeezed, that her laughter had claimed me. That nothing she could tell me now would make a difference. It was written. She was threaded to a part of me I couldn't wish away . . . that I had no desire to wish away.

I parked in front of her house, but didn't let go of her.

She stared at me with the same hopeful, yet shy, smile on her face she always had.

"What do you do for fun?" I asked.

"I'm not really allowed to have fun . . . at least not what you might consider fun. Hence the Book Nerd Syndrome."

"You're talking to me about shoving your face in books too much?" I laughed. "Come on, even I could tell you something I do for fun that doesn't involve books."

"So go ahead. Tell me."

"Okay. I like walking around Central Park. They have these little boats you can row around the lake. A beautiful meadow where you can have a picnic. I love visiting Belvedere Castle. And of course The Mall."

She laughed. "Your idea of fun is shopping at the mall? I don't believe that for a second."

"No," I said, smiling at her, "The Mall is a canopy of Elm trees that runs from 66th to 72nd street. And if you walk to the southern end of The Mall you can meet William Shakespeare in The Literary Walk. You know, as someone who has Book Nerd Syndrome, Everly Anne, I would have expected you to know about such places."

"I told you," her soft eyes said, "I'm not allowed to have your kind of fun. But that does sound nice, Callum Andrew. It sounds kind of like a dream, actually."

"You have to have one place you enjoy. One time you broke away. You have a bit of a rebel's heart, Everly. Where does it go to sing its song when your father says not to do something?"

"All right," she sighed. "I like riding trains. It's probably my favorite thing. It scares the crap out of me because I fear getting lost in New York, but sometimes it's the only thing that makes me feel alive-that fear. So I do it. In my lamer attempts to be a rebel, I've been to the Metropolitan Museum and wandered around as if I understand fine art. But the truth is I'm just as clueless as everyone else wandering around."

I laughed. "We could go sometime. We should."

She pulled her hand away. "Callum . . ."

"Everly."

"We can't do this."