“This is a ridiculously small town, though,” Ivy pointed out. “Can’t be too private.”

I glanced at Margo, to see if she was equally offended by the use of the word ridiculously, but she was too busy checking out Ivy’s bag, a big leather number with a bunch of buckles. “He does a pretty good job flying under the radar.”

“Which is why,” she replied, leaning forward again, “we need you, Emaline. We’re not from here, don’t know the back roads and locals. If we want that part of Clyde’s life accurately represented, we need someone to help us get to them.”

I could practically feel Margo breathing, she was so excited by this prospect. Bet she was sorry now she claimed to be all worldly and distanced from Colby. I couldn’t savor this, though, because I was looking at Theo, whose expression could only be described as pleading. Crap.

“I can’t bring you to Clyde,” I told them both. Theo’s shoulders slumped, just slightly, and Ivy shot him a look. I swallowed. “But I can . . . I mean, I guess I could show you around Colby.”

The minute I said this, I knew it was a mistake. I didn’t know Ivy well, but I had a hunch that once you gave her something approximating what she wanted, she wouldn’t let up until she got it all.

“Wonderful,” she said now, smiling at me. “We’ll start this afternoon. Yes?”

“I have to work here,” I say.

“Only until six,” Margo piped up, clearly having now moved on to directing the bus in what was, exactly, the best way to run me over.

“Then why don’t you come over to the house around seven.” Ivy pushed out her chair, getting to her feet. “We’ll talk, figure out a game plan. Yes?”

I didn’t answer, not that she was waiting for me to do so. As Theo moved to follow her, I started to glare at Margo, only to realize he was trying to catch my eye. Ivy was already halfway down the hallway as he mouthed the words thank you. I nodded, despite myself, and then he was jogging after her, towards the exit.

“Well, isn’t that something,” Margo said, watching them go. “Someone’s shooting a movie right here in Colby.”

“It’s not a movie, it’s a documentary,” I told her.

“Either way, it’s interesting.” She craned her neck, keeping them in sight as they got in the van.

I saw Morris was with them as well, sliding open the back door. Earlier, he’d explained to me that he was in the Wave Nails parking lot, having just visited Daisy, when Theo approached and asked if he wanted to make some quick money toting boxes. Fifteen minutes later, he was at the Shipping Depot, unloading cartons. When Theo asked him if he knew anyone who was really familiar with either Clyde or Colby in general, Morris immediately thought of me. What a coincidence.

“I didn’t know you were already friends,” he’d said, as I handed over another envelope to a family in a car with Delaware plates.

“We’re not,” I’d told him. “We just met when I did a vip drop-off over there.”

He looked at Theo again, then back at me. “Huh.”

Morris was not one for innuendo. It was pretty much beyond him. What you saw was what you got, which was alternately refreshing or frustrating, depending on the situation. “What?”

“I dunno,” he said, as the next car pulled up. “He just acted like he knew you well, or something.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But maybe he’s just like that with everyone.”

Saying this, he had been assuming a lot himself, but I figured it wasn’t worth pointing it out. Still, now, as I watched them leave, I wondered how, exactly, I’d come to feel like I owed Theo anything, especially something I couldn’t even promise to deliver. It couldn’t just be that he was cute when he blushed. And what a weird coincidence that Morris now, too, had been sucked into his orbit, making our paths cross once more. On the flip side, it wasn’t like it was so difficult to find connections. This was, after all, a ridiculously small town.

*   *   *

At six thirty, I finally left the sandbox to go home, exhausted. I was so worn out, in fact, that when I started down the hallway towards my room and saw the door ajar, the sound of a TV drifting out, all I could muster was a loud sigh.

“Look!” Amber said, as I stepped into the doorway. She was on my bed, the orange hair now gone, replaced with a jet-black dye job. Not for the first time, I wondered if she ever did anything at cosmetology school besides adjust her own look. My mom, sipping a light beer, was beside her. “It’s the movie star!”

I just looked at them. “I can’t believe you guys.”

“Fumes,” my mother explained.

“Excuse me?”

“Your dad is doing something upstairs with the floors and epoxy. We can’t breathe it, it’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” Amber echoed, flipping a page of one of my magazines.

I walked over to my (crowded) bed, kicked off my shoes, and flopped facedown across the only space remaining. After a moment, a foot nudged my shoulder blade. “You okay?” my mom asked.

“Margo totally sold me out,” I replied, my voice muffled by the pillow.

“She’ll do that,” Amber said. “Especially if there’s money involved.”

“But I thought that boy was your friend,” my mom said. “That’s what he said, anyway.”




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