quote and closed her notebook. “I think that’ll do it,” Phoebe said. “Congratulations.”
“Yeah,” said Number 12. “I’m not smiling for a week, even if it’s something funny.”
Phoebe reopened her notebook to write that down, then put her pen and pad away in her backpack.
She glanced around. The dental association officials were gone now. A mall custodian was stacking folding chairs on a dolly. Then she spied Jennifer, leaning against the wall, just beyond Bed, Bath & Beyond. Phoebe walked toward her. It felt good to get away from all those dentist people. She never realized it was so much pressure being around people when you might have to write bad stuff about them. Part of her felt she was a wicked sneak.
“Phoebe,” said Jennifer. “How’d it go? A long Saturday afternoon.”
“OK,” said Phoebe quietly. “Different from what I expected.”
“Different?” said Jennifer.
“Yeah,” said Phoebe. “It’s hard to explain.”
Jennifer nodded, then asked, “You get some good shots of the M&M queen?”
Phoebe stopped walking and looked up at Jennifer. “How’d you know?”
“Wild guess,” said Jennifer.
“You think it’s OK to put that stuff in the story?” asked Phoebe.
“I do,” said Jennifer.
Sunday was colder, a blustery autumn day. It would be tough bicycling into the wind. Adam e-mailed Jennifer to see if she still wanted to go. He wasn’t sure if she was still mad at him. Jennifer could nurse a grudge pretty good. But the instant message she sent back seemed normal. They were sticking to the plan. After church, she would meet him at the Pancake House by the train station for a late breakfast. Then they would bike to the animal shelter to see Danny.
On the way over, there were a couple of neat curbs for doing wheelies and grinds, and Adam arrived at the Pancake House twenty minutes late, which was about what Jennifer had expected. She already was sitting in a booth — they loved getting a booth — sipping hot chocolate and leafing through old J. Crew catalogs.
“Heavy reading?” asked Adam.
“Get lost on the way over?” asked Jennifer. She stared at him. He was such a space cadet. “You can take off your bike helmet now,” she said. “The ceiling looks pretty safe in here.”
“Oh . . . right,” said Adam, unbuckling the chin strap and placing his helmet on the booth seat. He ordered blueberry pancakes and a hot chocolate with whipped cream.
Jennifer cut her pancakes neatly into little pieces. Not Adam. First he ate all the whipped cream off his hot chocolate. Then he picked up the top pancake with his hands, turned it over so he could see where the blueberries were, and began eating, making sure every bite had at least one blueberry.
Jennifer didn’t seem angry anymore, so Adam didn’t see any point in revisiting ancient history. “How’d the smile contest go?” he asked.
“I guess if you wanted to know, you would have been there,” said Jennifer, not even bothering to look up from her pancakes.
Adam felt like Jennifer had just kicked a forty-five-yard field goal straight into his stomach. “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry you’re still angry. I didn’t want you —”
“Stop,” said Jennifer. “It’s over. I’ve been thinking. This is partly my fault. I did sort of pressure you into being coeditor. You don’t have to do it. Honest. I can find someone else. I think Sammy could probably —”
“Sammy?” said Adam. “Sammy can’t even do that cafeteria investigation without messing up.”
“Well, then, maybe Donald,” said Jennifer.
“Donald?” said Adam. “Donald didn’t even come to the first meeting.”
“Not your problem,” said Jennifer. “I’ll handle it. There’s Robert. Or Franklin . . .”
“I’ll do it,” said Adam. “I said I would, and I will.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” said Jennifer. “I don’t need —”
“Jennifer, stop, stop, stop. I want to do it. I do. I promise.”
“You’re
“Yeah,” said Number 12. “I’m not smiling for a week, even if it’s something funny.”
Phoebe reopened her notebook to write that down, then put her pen and pad away in her backpack.
She glanced around. The dental association officials were gone now. A mall custodian was stacking folding chairs on a dolly. Then she spied Jennifer, leaning against the wall, just beyond Bed, Bath & Beyond. Phoebe walked toward her. It felt good to get away from all those dentist people. She never realized it was so much pressure being around people when you might have to write bad stuff about them. Part of her felt she was a wicked sneak.
“Phoebe,” said Jennifer. “How’d it go? A long Saturday afternoon.”
“OK,” said Phoebe quietly. “Different from what I expected.”
“Different?” said Jennifer.
“Yeah,” said Phoebe. “It’s hard to explain.”
Jennifer nodded, then asked, “You get some good shots of the M&M queen?”
Phoebe stopped walking and looked up at Jennifer. “How’d you know?”
“Wild guess,” said Jennifer.
“You think it’s OK to put that stuff in the story?” asked Phoebe.
“I do,” said Jennifer.
Sunday was colder, a blustery autumn day. It would be tough bicycling into the wind. Adam e-mailed Jennifer to see if she still wanted to go. He wasn’t sure if she was still mad at him. Jennifer could nurse a grudge pretty good. But the instant message she sent back seemed normal. They were sticking to the plan. After church, she would meet him at the Pancake House by the train station for a late breakfast. Then they would bike to the animal shelter to see Danny.
On the way over, there were a couple of neat curbs for doing wheelies and grinds, and Adam arrived at the Pancake House twenty minutes late, which was about what Jennifer had expected. She already was sitting in a booth — they loved getting a booth — sipping hot chocolate and leafing through old J. Crew catalogs.
“Heavy reading?” asked Adam.
“Get lost on the way over?” asked Jennifer. She stared at him. He was such a space cadet. “You can take off your bike helmet now,” she said. “The ceiling looks pretty safe in here.”
“Oh . . . right,” said Adam, unbuckling the chin strap and placing his helmet on the booth seat. He ordered blueberry pancakes and a hot chocolate with whipped cream.
Jennifer cut her pancakes neatly into little pieces. Not Adam. First he ate all the whipped cream off his hot chocolate. Then he picked up the top pancake with his hands, turned it over so he could see where the blueberries were, and began eating, making sure every bite had at least one blueberry.
Jennifer didn’t seem angry anymore, so Adam didn’t see any point in revisiting ancient history. “How’d the smile contest go?” he asked.
“I guess if you wanted to know, you would have been there,” said Jennifer, not even bothering to look up from her pancakes.
Adam felt like Jennifer had just kicked a forty-five-yard field goal straight into his stomach. “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry you’re still angry. I didn’t want you —”
“Stop,” said Jennifer. “It’s over. I’ve been thinking. This is partly my fault. I did sort of pressure you into being coeditor. You don’t have to do it. Honest. I can find someone else. I think Sammy could probably —”
“Sammy?” said Adam. “Sammy can’t even do that cafeteria investigation without messing up.”
“Well, then, maybe Donald,” said Jennifer.
“Donald?” said Adam. “Donald didn’t even come to the first meeting.”
“Not your problem,” said Jennifer. “I’ll handle it. There’s Robert. Or Franklin . . .”
“I’ll do it,” said Adam. “I said I would, and I will.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” said Jennifer. “I don’t need —”
“Jennifer, stop, stop, stop. I want to do it. I do. I promise.”
“You’re
Similar Books
