what? I might actually stop by for this.”
“Well, don’t be late. Don’t want to miss out on the really good trash,” I say, wholly unconvinced that she will be stopping by.
“It was fun to see you, Prudence. Jude.” She waves.
Jude waves back, all dreamy-eyed, but she already has her back turned to him.
Ari comes in through the front door, passing Maya in the aisle. Maya pauses and snaps her fingers. “Oh, hey! Aren’t you that girl who was at the bonfire party? With the guitar?”
Ari gets a surprised look in her eye. “Wow. You’re the second person in two days who’s recognized me from that.”
Maya grins. “You were amazing! I overheard that song you did … something about … snowflakes on the shore…”
“‘The Winter Beach Blues’!” says Ari, brightening. “That’s one of my favorites.”
“I’d never heard it before, but it was so beautiful! Who is it by?”
Ari immediately starts to shrink back into her shell, nervously toeing the wooden floorboards. “Um…”
“That one is an Araceli Escalante original,” I pipe up.
Maya looks baffled. “Araceli Escalante?” She glances at Jude, then at Dad. “Do you carry any of her albums?”
We all laugh, and I take Ari’s elbow. “This is Ari,” I say. “She’s a songwriter. That song was one of her own.”
“Oh!” Maya claps a hand to her cheek. “That’s so cool! I wish I could play an instrument. Or sing. Or write … anything. I’m so jealous.”
And now she’s officially flustered both of my best friends.
I peer at her, feeling a little disconcerted myself.
She’s acting so normal. So nice.
Not that she usually acts like a supreme snob or anything, but I can’t ignore the things she said about Jude. How she completely wrote him off. How she suggested that he was somehow beneath her. I struggle to recall her exact words from that evening, but it’s all a blur. Still, I know I didn’t just imagine it.
“Well, if you ever record anything,” Maya adds, “I’d love to have a copy.”
She waves at us all again, and then she leaves, creating a strange vacuum in her absence, like all the air is being sucked out of the store. The Maya Livingstone effect.
I stretch out my fingers, a little disappointed that I didn’t get a chance to use my power against her this time. Which probably makes me a horrible, resentful person.
What did she say on the beach? I rack my brain to remember specifics, but all I can remember for sure is Katie making that inane comment about how D&D is some devil-worshipping game, and how Maya shot her down.
But there was more to it than that. There had to be.
Did she call him a nerd? Or was that Janine?
Someone said he was creepy. And oh! Obsessed. Someone definitely insinuated that Jude was obsessed with Maya. But was that her, or one of her friends?
But she definitely said that she wasn’t interested in him, and she said it within earshot of Jude! That’s not okay. That’s downright heartless! And … and …
Honest.
I suppose.
She was being honest. And if she really didn’t know that Jude was there and able to hear her …
“I like her,” says Dad, interrupting my uncomfortable train of thought. He claps his hands as if he’d just completed a day’s worth of work. “You kids sure do have nice friends.”
I give myself a shake before my brain can charge down another bottomless rabbit hole. “I really, really need to get going,” I say.
“Yes, go!” commands my dad. “Make this world a better place! And if you run into any tourists, send them our way, yeah? The crowds are starting to come in for the season, and we could use the business.”
I nod, but I’m not really listening to him. My attention has darted to Jude. “Are you okay?”
He looks dazed and thoughtful as he leans back against the counter. “I don’t look anything like Sadashiv.”
I try not to laugh at this blatantly obvious statement, because Jude really does look weirdly upset by this piece of information. I give him a sympathetic look.
“Jude, he’s supposedly the sexiest man alive. Maybe try not to be so hard on yourself.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Quint is giving me a sassy look as I race down the beach toward where he’s already set up a couple of tables and carried down a bunch of boxes of supplies. He makes a big show of checking a nonexistent watch.
“Prudence Barnett, you are late,” he says. “You know, my time is valuable, too. Whatever happened to believing in punctuality?”
I scowl at