Fifteenth Summer

s e v e n t e e n

I got to town at one fifteen the next day. But not because I wanted to get to work early.

I was going to Dog Ear.

At the corner of Main and Althorp, I paused—and hyperventilated a bit. Clutching my stomach, I ducked onto Althorp, which was really more of an alley than a street—skinny, one-way, and mostly stocked with service entrances to the stores on Main.

I smoothed down my poofy A-line skirt, adjusted the straps of my blue camisole, and tried to calm down.

What's the big deal? I asked myself. I'm just stopping in. I'll talk to Killian, pick out some books, and be on my way.

What's more, I'd done a mirror check right before I'd left the cottage, so I knew there was nothing on my face.

I gave my head a little shake, smoothed down the puff of frizz that the head shake had unleashed, and walked purposefully around the corner.

When I went into Dog Ear, Stella was behind the counter.

"Hi there!" she said, fluttering her fingers at me. "C'mon in. It's Nutter Butters today."

I grinned at her. The prospect of dribbling peanut buttery crumbs into a book that I had just bought made me giddy. I decided to look for a book first, and Killian second.

I was headed to the YA section when I got distracted by a chirpy voice coming out of the kids' area. I peeked over the white picket fence at a mom-ish-looking woman perched on a tiny chair. She was reading to a small crowd of toddlers who alternated between listening raptly and pointing at the pictures to shout out things like, "It's a duck!"

"Cute," I whispered to myself.

I was just heading back to the YA section, when I froze.

Between the kids' play area and the YA aisle, there was an aisle filled with picture books. Sitting on the floor of that aisle, shelving a stack of them, was Killian.

He was looking right at me.

"Hi," I stage-whispered. I didn't want to disturb the story hour.

He waved and smiled.

Which made me feel both flustered and floaty. Suddenly the thought of delaying talking to Killian in favor of shopping for books seemed really ridiculous.

After walking down the aisle, I lowered myself to the floor, trying to simultaneously be graceful and not give Killian a glimpse of my underwear. He was holding a copy of Where the Wild Things Are but seemed to have forgotten all about it. Instead he just stared at me.

Then we did that thing where he smiled and I smiled back and he smiled harder and so did I, and boy was I glad nobody else could see us right then. It comforted me to know that we were equally dorky.

"Listen," I said when I finally remembered that I'd actually come here to tell him something. "I was going to buy a book and then thank you. But now I'm thanking you first."

Killian smiled bigger. "You're not broke anymore?"

"No!" I said. "Look at this!"

I opened my purse and pulled out a rolled-up wad of money. It was fifty-two dollars in one-dollar bills—my final tip count from the previous day.

"That's, like, five paperbacks right there," I said.

"So, I guess you got the job?" Killian asked.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that," I said. "They started me right away. And I'm going back today for the dinner shift! So, uh, that's why I wanted to thank you—for telling me about it and giving me those pointers."