Sarah's house always smelled of mac & cheese and graham crackers. If Yankee Candle made that scent, I'd burn it every day. It filled me with tenderness, but it was the craze that made me smile: Sammy's chatter, Sarah's teasing, Mrs. Bennis' quiet patience through it all.

"Emma!" Sammy greeted me as I tentatively stepped in the door. It had been a long week of emotional friends saying goodbye.

I couldn't quite tell if I was so tired because I was emotional or because I was pretending, but Sammy's excitement at my presence and his outstretched arms made the knot in my stomach unwind.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and sunk his soda-stained face into my side. "I missed you," he mumbled, as my shirt hid his shy smile.

"I missed you too, kiddo." As I spoke, he lifted his oval face up to see mine, still resting his chin on my side.

To say a smile crossed his face was an understatement. When Sammy smiled, it covered the whole bottom half of his face. His cheeks even lifted to highlight a mischievous sparkle in his brownie eyes.

"Goonies," I whispered.

"Goonies," he echoed my tone, as though it was a secret code between us.

Thursday movie nights were my balancer. For every eye-roll and sigh that Sarah gave her little brother, her dad's cheesy jokes, or her mom's worries, I felt their love. My parents loved me, but it was not in the close way that the Bennis family lived. My parents were more nontraditional with their family vibe. There were no family dinners or game nights. The Cooper house was always quiet and orderly, bordering on bland, white walls with muted furniture. Some days, I felt like I lived in an unoccupied show house. It was just frozen in sterile glory for the next potential family to come and look. When my thoughts spun on this, I had to shake it out of my head quickly. It was too close to me being part of the attraction. A zoo animal: here is the domesticated teen in her room.

When I started high school, my parents surprised me by refinishing the basement. Everyone was jealous. It was borderline my own apartment with a living room, bathroom, and bedroom. I even had a mini-fridge, microwave, and a private entrance from the back. While everyone else was envious of my independence, I felt even more caged. The thing about cages is for everyone caged in; others are caged out. With my mom a surgeon and dad a lawyer, I felt confined out of existence most days. Both were usually gone before I was up and home late. The evenings they were home resulted in nothing more than takeout eaten as we stood around the kitchen island. The dining room was for appearance, barring holidays when friends and family would arrive.

I've always known my parents loved me, but they were people first and parents later. It wasn't like the Bennis family. Mrs. Bennis was a mom, tired, overworked, and underappreciated at times, but now and then, I'd glimpse her gazing at Sammy with the most serene smile or letting out an honest laugh at Sarah's sarcasm. She loved her role as a mom. Mr. Bennis was the same. You could feel the renewed energy rolling off him when he walked through the front door. He rarely talked about his work, but I knew his days were hard being a child psychologist. The moment he walked in, he was there with a cheesy pun for all topics.

"You girls ready for your finals?" Mrs. Bennis smiled across the table as she blotted grease from her pizza.

Mr. Bennis supplied a poor rendition of Final Countdown, making Sammy giggle as he sipped his grape soda.

"I think so," I shrugged between bites.

"Think so; you know the material better than the teachers. I, on the other hand, will need a minor miracle to pass the math final." Sarah was never confident with math, but she wasn't as bad as she let on. "Is it possible to get a semester's worth of notes on an index card?" She mused to herself.

"You'll do fine. You've been crushing the practice questions this week." I honestly didn't think Sarah had to worry.

"Just focus on your breathing, and you'll be fine." Mr. Bennis put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. Intangible bits of emotion made me want to smile and burst into tears all at once.

"Is it okay if I spend that night at Emma's on Saturday? We have Exam Jam at Chrissy's, and then, when we get up on Sunday, we can get straight to studying." All facts, but I knew Sarah wanted to stay over because she wouldn't have a curfew.

"Of course," Mrs. Bennis absently spoke as she tried to wrangle the two-liter of grape soda away from Sammy, who had already drained two glasses.

"No drinking," Mr. Bennis said in a severe tone. "But if you happen to, you can call us for a ride."

He always reminded us to call if we needed him. We never did. On the rare occasion that Jacob drank, I would drive.

The monster, the lost treasure, and the magic that is THE GOONIES. Watching the movie felt warm. Sammy snuggled into my side on the couch. Just Sammy, Mr. Bennis, and I ever watched the movies. Sarah was too busy with her nails. Mrs. Bennis could never sit still; she'd pop off her chair every few minutes to make tea or pick up a toy. By the time the movie was wrapping up, it was almost 8:30 pm, and Sammy struggled to stay awake.

"They get to stay the Goonies," Sammy murmured as his dad picked him up to carry him to bed. "Good night," he whispered as Mr. Bennis took him up the stairs.

"I love that little monkey," I smiled as I flopped from the couch to the floor mid-stretch.

"That's because he's never used your shampoo as bubble bath." Sarah pretended she didn't love Sammy, but even she couldn't resist his infectious smile.

As we walked to the door, Sarah switched to her low conspirator tone. "So, if tomorrow is terrible, call me from the bathroom. I'll call back 10 minutes later with an emergency."

This was our pact. Whenever the other one was not looking forward to something, we'd be each other's phone-a-friend. Sarah had called once during an exceedingly terrible group presentation. It ended with both Sarah and me in the principal's office.

The reminder of the unwanted social event destroyed my family movie night vibes. It was an intruder in my mind, a plague. I fantasized about skipping it during the short ride home, but as I slammed the car door shut, I also slammed the idea of cutting. My house was dark, so instead of going in the front door, I slipped my sandals off and walked through the cool grass to the backdoor that led straight to the basement. I loved the feeling of the night grass between my toes. Even more, I loved the comfort of wrapping my feet in a warm blanket when I got inside. The sudden warmth spread through my body, calming my mind. As I plugged in my phone to charge, I saw a missed call from Jacob. He called every night to tell me he loved me. I didn't bother calling him back.