Mom and Dad made me pose for a million photographs. When that was over, I sat in the shade on a folding chair with a glass of lemonade and a sugar cookie. Francis showed up and took a seat next to me. Sipping the last of my lemonade, I realized it was now or never. I had to tell him I wasn’t going to golf camp. “I’m so glad we’re out of here.” Francis sighed and adjusted his tie. “No more kid stuff.” All the other guys had taken their ties off, or at least loosened them, but not Francis. His was still hanging tight and straight. “Our new lives start this summer,” he added. “I can’t wait to be around people who—” “I have some bad news,” I said, cutting Francis off. “I can’t go to golf camp with you.” “Seriously?” Francis said. “Why not?” I looked around like we were being watched. “It’s the stock market,” I whispered. “What about it?” “All I know is my dad said no more golf camp.” Francis shook his head. “Man, I told him to diversify his portfolio.”
