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heard most of it. His voice drifted in and out as he paced across the floor.
    â€œYou need to tell me these things, Sara! Just because I’m in Manhattan doesn’t mean I don’t want to be involved! You’re the one who moved away, not me!”
    For a second, it reminded me of a few years ago all over again, when Dad and Mom were fightingall the time. I put the pillow over my head, so I wouldn’t hear.
    See what happens when I tell the truth? It always ends up badly. I told you nobody would be happy.

CHAPTER 13
    Just Like Old Times . . . Or Is It?
    S aturday was a much better day. Mrs. Monroe took me and Ava to see the Costume Collection at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Ava and I took lots of pictures, and I spent about an hour sketching shoes from the 192 0 s. I liked the really cool buttons on them. Saturday night Dad and I went out for sushi, and everything felt like normal.
    Then Sunday morning at eleven thirty, Dad said, “Mia, please pack your bag.”
    â€œBut it’s too early for the train,” I told him.
    â€œWe’re not going right to the train,” he said. “Mom’s meeting us for lunch at Jo h nny’s Pizza.”
    At first I wasn’t sure I’d heard right. Meeting Mom for lunch? Dad and Mom and I hadn’t had lunch together since they got divorced.
    Imust be in big trouble, I thought. So I packed my bag and put on my coat, and then Dad and I headed out to Jo h nny’s.
    Jo h nny’s has the best pizza in our neighborhood, and maybe even in the whole city. They cook it in a brick oven with real wood, and the crust gets nice and crispy. Mom and Dad and I ate there a lot when we all lived together.
    I shivered the whole walk there, but once we got inside it was warm and toasty. Mom was already sitting at a table, waiting for us. She had her hair pulled back, and she looked kind of tired.
    Mom stood up when she saw us. “Hi, Mia,” she said, giving me a hug. But she didn’t hug Dad.
    Dad draped his coat around the chair. “I’ll go place our order,” he said, and then he got in line.
    Mom looked at me and shook her head. “Mia, your father told me about that note from your Spanish teacher. Why didn’t you tell me?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said, looking down at the table. It was too hard to explain.
    â€œYou know can talk to me about these things, Mia,” Mom said. “I just don’t understand.”
    Dad sat down. “It should be ready in a few minutes,” he said. “So, Mia, I guess you know why we’re all here.”
    I nodded.
    â€œIt’s like I said the other night,” he said. “You can’t keep secrets from us. Especially when it’s about school and especially when you need help.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Mom said, and she sounded angry. “Mia, your only job right now in life is to do well in school. Baking cupcakes, going to fashion shows, that’s all good, but school is the most important.”
    â€œI know!” I said. “I really do. I’m doing well in my other classes. But you guys put me in Advanced Spanish without asking me. It’s not my fault.”
    Dad and Mom looked at each other.
    â€œI’m sorry about that,” Dad said. “We didn’t realize we were pushing you into something too hard for you. Sara, can they put her in a different class?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” Mom replied. “But I’ll ask. I don’t know if they can switch her schedule until the spring.”
    â€œIn the meantime, we can get you a tutor,” Dad said. He handed Mom the note. “Her teacher suggested a few.”
    â€œWe might not need one,” Mom said. “Eddie majored in Spanish in college. He’s a translator at the company he works for.”
    I was surprised. “He is?” I asked.
    â€œI thought you knew,” Mom said. “What did you think he did?”
    I