a moment. David stopped, seemed to realize what she was looking at, and put that hand in his pocket.
Something bad about that watch.
“Could you move?” she said. “I need the milk. I might as well get my money’s worth.”
He smiled even more broadly and stepped away from the fridge door.
“Of course,” he said. “The girl detective needs her breakfast.”
Stevie smiled right back as she poured the milk and replaced it.
“Daddy issues needs his therapist,” she said.
He laughed out loud—a little cough of a laugh. She had found a mark. It was a wide and easy mark, but it had landed.
That little exchange should have been enough. It would have been perfect had it simply ended there. But, of course, there was no escape. He lived here too. He took a seat at the end of the table and stared down the length of it.
Nate joined them, creeping into the room with tousled hair. He seemed a bit more robust this morning and actually said hello to everyone.
“So,” David said, a little too loudly. “What’s everybody got today?”
“Adviser meetings,” Janelle said. “What are they like? I have Dr. Hinkle.”
“Do you like hearing people tell stories about getting lost inside the Large Hadron Collider?” David asked.
“Always,” Janelle said.
“Then you’ll be fine. Who do you have, Nate?”
“Dr. Quinn,” Nate said.
“Oh.” David shook his head. “Bind your wounds. She can smell blood.”
“What?”
“And how about you, Stevie?” That thin smile was on her again.
“Dr. Scott,” Stevie said.
“Captain Enthusiasm!” David replied. Stevie caught Pix give a little grin as she knit. “He’s bouncy. Are you going to solve mysteries together?”
“David,” Pix said.
“Only asking,” David replied.
“What did you mean about the blood?” Nate pressed on. “Is she hard?”
“Just remember there’s no shame in crying,” David replied. “After, I mean. Like me after I lost my virginity.”
“David,” Pix said again. “Don’t freak people out. Dr. Quinn is fine. You’ll be fine, Nate.”
Stevie was hanging back on the virginity thing. Was that a joke? Had to be a joke. What did it mean? Was that one of those things where you said something really vulnerable to make yourself seem above it all? Had he said virginity louder than any of the other words in that sentence? Was he talking about her virginity?
Oh, he was watching her now. He’d put it out there as a trip wire.
She shoveled Froot Loops in her mouth, but didn’t savor them. The sugar scraped against her teeth.
“Is she going to ask me a lot about my book?” Nate asked.
“Like what?” David said. “Like, the plot? Best dragon?”
“Like, am I done, am I working?”
“Oh,” David said. “Yeah. Probably that. What’s your blood type, anyway? Just for reference.”
“David.”
David held up his hands. “Kidding, kidding. He knows I’m kidding. You know I’m kidding, right, Nate?”
Nate did not look like he knew this. And Janelle, who had watched this silently, was now ready to step in.
“Come with me later on today, Stevie,” Janelle said. “I’m going over to check out the workshop. I need to see where they keep the welding supplies. Can’t wait to get my hands on my new blowtorch.”
On the word blowtorch, Hayes appeared, wet from a shower. His golden hair was stuck to his head. Unlike David, he was pristinely dressed in white shorts and a blue shirt. Even in this early morning state he still looked unnaturally good. Except for his eyes. Those were completely bloodshot.
“What time did you get up?” David said, looking him over. “Four twenty?”
“Didn’t sleep much last night,” Hayes said with a roguish smile.
“No,” David said. “Will we all be invited to the wedding? Beth too?”
Hayes shrugged and dropped into a chair.
“So,” David said. “You’re famous or something now?”
“Or something,” Hayes said with a smile. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Zombie business is big business,” David said. “People love the undead.”
“That’s my life,” Stevie said. “I work at the Monroeville Mall.”
No reply from Hayes.
“In Pittsburgh,” Stevie said. “The Monroeville Mall.”
Hayes cocked his head and smiled at Stevie, but it was a smile of I have no idea what you are saying. There was a definite echo of how her parents sometimes looked at her, and it made her cheeks burn.
Nate looked up from the milky depths of his cereal bowl, first to Hayes, then to Stevie.
“What made you want to write about zombies?” Janelle asked in what seemed to be an attempt to keep some normal conversation going.
Ellie stumbled into the room wearing a pair of ratty harem pants and a shirt that said ART HARDER. As a greeting, she sat down and