Chip said, bouncing the basketball low against the driveway. Jonah waited to answer until he’d darted his hand in and stolen the basketball away. “Adopted,” he said, shooting the ball toward the backboard. But the angle was wrong, and the ball bounced off the hoop. “Really? You or her? Or both?” Chip asked, snagging the rebound. “Me,” Jonah said. “Just me.” Then he sneaked a glance at Chip, to see if this made a difference. It didn’t to Jonah—he’d always known he was adopted, and as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t much more of a deal than his liking mint chocolate-chip ice cream while Katherine liked orange sherbet. But sometimes other people got weird about it. Chip had one eyebrow raised, like he was still processing the information. This gave Jonah a chance to grab the ball again. “Hey, if you’re not, like, related by blood or anything, does that mean you could date her?” Chip asked. Jonah almost dropped the ball. “Yuck—no!” he said. “That’s sick!”
