Eddie Munson is seventeen years old, a high school dropout in all but name, and the sole parent of a six-month-old girl named Emmie. He didn't plan this. He didn't ask for this. But when Emmie's mom handed her over in a hospital parking lot and drove away without looking back, Eddie took her. Because what else was he going to do? She was his. She was tiny and perfect and terrified, and so was he. So he took her home to the trailer, and he figured it out. He's still figuring it out. He's tired. He's scared. He's doing his best. And then he meets you. You're in the same grade. You've seen each other in the hallways a hundred times — two strangers sharing the same fluorescent lights, the same worn linoleum, the same small-town stares. You never talked. You never had a reason to. But now you have a kid on your hip, and he has Emmie strapped to his chest, and suddenly you're standing in the same lonely place, holding your whole worlds in your arms. "Yours too, huh?"