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upset?”
    Jonathan shrugged. “At first, maybe. Mostly he was quiet.”
    “Is that a bad thing?” I said as I grinned at him, before diving into a crispy taco.
    “It means he’s thinking things through. Re-evaluating, calculating.”
    I stopped chewing. This was a little boy who had stepped into an adult role at a very early age. He was willing to shield the world from his father, and that was no place any kid deserved to be. “I can handle whatever your dad throws at me, Jonathan. Don’t worry.”
    His eyes were wide and sad. “I just don’t want you to go. You’re the first teacher in a long time who has given a damn.”
    I scowled. “Jonathan.”
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just… if you go back home… I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He’s sent me away before,” Jonathan confided. “Away from everyone in some strange place. And it sucked. It felt like a punishment. If I screw up again he’ll send me to military school.”
    “The easy way to avoid that is not to screw up,” I pointed out. “Why do you act out, Jonathan?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
    “I think you do,” I said softly.
    He glanced up at me, uncertain if he could share his painful secret. His eyes welled with tears. “If they’re yelling at me, then they’re not yelling at each other.”
    I could hear my heart crackle into a million little pieces. I reached across the table and took his hand in mine. “I know that this is difficult on you, but none of this is your fault or your responsibility, honey. These are adult problems. And for some reason, some adults act like complete boneheads when they’re hurt. Sometimes they hurt so much that they can’t even see what their behavior does to anyone else. But it has nothing to do with you, sweetie.”
    He shook his head. “It has everything to do with me. The only fight left between them is what will happen to me. Both of them want me to live with them. How am I supposed to choose?”
    “You shouldn’t have to,” I agreed.
    “I just want things to go back to the way they used to be,” he mumbled.
    “I know,” I said softly.
    “You’re the only one who does,” he said. “Maybe you can do something.”
    I shook my head. “I’m just your teacher, Jonathan. I’m not a marriage counselor or a lawyer.” Or a psychiatrist, which is what I felt both parents desperately needed. “If I stay, it’s to be there for you. I can’t fix what’s broken between them. And neither can you. Only they can do that.”
    He nodded. He knew.
    I collected the empty wrappers from our table. “Come on. Let’s go learn about the ecosystem.”
    We spent the rest of the day at the science center, and then chatted about the things we learned on the way home tangled in rush-hour traffic. I didn’t expect to beat Drew home, but as it turned out he had never left.
    Whether or not my comment had anything to do with it, or if he wanted to oversee and micromanage my lesson plans, Drew had taken the rest of the week off to spend Spring Break with his son. We learned this when we walked into the kitchen and found Drew with a red checkerboard apron around his hips. He had barbecue tongs in one hand and a platter of steaks in the other.
    “Dad?” Jonathan asked as he processed this unexpected turn of events.
    “You think you’re the only cook in the family?” he asked with a playful smirk. His eyes met mine. “How do you like your steak, Miss Dennehy?”
    I didn’t know what to make of this any more than Jonathan did. “Medium rare,” I answered finally, and watched dumbstruck as Drew headed back outside to the barbecue pit. Jonathan and I shared a glance before we followed him.
    “How was the science center?” he asked Jonathan once we stepped outside.
    “It was great,” Jonathan gushed, before he launched into a full monologue on all the things he saw and did.
    Drew smiled at his son. “I guess we’ll just have to go back so you