“Moscow, Idaho, is only eight miles away. Mostly we go there.”

“You go to another state to shop?” Elise tossed her head back on the couch. “For this I had to give up my friends, eighty-degree weather, beaches, mega malls, pool parties, and Hollywood?”

How could I compete with Hollywood? “Well, at least we don’t have any earthquakes.”

Elise ignored this helpful evaluation. “My parents thought the small-town atmosphere would be good for the family.” She picked up a pile of dish towels that lay on the couch and moved them to an end table. “They thought it would be a good place to move their stupid office-supply store. A brilliant financial decision, since offices are obviously so plentiful here.”

Pullman was a university town—home of Washington State University and Schweitzer Labs. The population was almost thirty thousand, but twenty five thousand of those people were students. It wasn’t a big place, but it had always been big enough for me. I looked around the room for someplace German-shepherd proof to set the plate. “Where do you want the cookies?”

“I’ll put them in the kitchen.” Elise finally took the plate. “Sit anywhere. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I took a box off a small love seat and sat down. Goliath got up, trotted over, and stared at me. All the old dog sayings came to mind. Never run from them. Never provoke them. Dogs can smell fear.

“Nice Goliath. I don’t have the cookies anymore. Go see Elise. She’s in the kitchen.”

He sat sniffing, then jumped up on the love seat. For a moment I was nose to muzzle with him; then he lay down on my lap.

“Down, Goliath, down!”

The dog didn’t move. I thought of pushing him off but was afraid he’d consider that provoking.

He rolled over on his back, stretching.

I strained to see the kitchen. “Elise,” I called weakly. “Elise!” No one came.

I patted Goliath a few times on the stomach. “Nice doggy. Get off.”

He didn’t move. I decided to take a chance and I pushed him off. He rolled from my lap onto the floor, shook himself, and then jumped back onto the love seat. He plunked down in my lap again.

Elise returned from the kitchen carrying a couple of glasses and a bottle of Sprite. “Goliath, get down!”

He still didn’t move. Elise put the glasses and soda on top of a stack of boxes that was in front of the couch, then grabbed Goliath by the collar and pulled him off me. “Sorry about that,” she said, but she looked more amused than apologetic.

“It’s all right.”

Goliath put his face on the cushions and looked up at me with forlorn brown eyes.

Elise sat down on the couch across from me. She seemed to have forgotten about the soda and glasses full of ice she’d brought in. “So, what do you do for fun around here?”

“I belong to the chess club and I play tennis.”

She looked completely unimpressed by this so I added, “With all my homework, I don’t have time for much else.”

“Chess and homework,” she said flatly. “What does everybody else do for fun?”

Goliath whined. I patted his head. “The regular stuff. Play sports, go shopping, and see movies.” Goliath flung himself onto my lap once more. With some effort I managed to push him off. He slid onto the floor, a heap of tan and black fur, then barked at me indignantly.

“Why does your dog want to be on my lap?”

“No reason.” Elise smirked, holding back a laugh. “Except that you’re in his chair.”

I got up. “Your dog has a chair and you let me sit in it?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, but by that time she was laughing.

I brushed dog fur off my jeans with quick motions. “Thanks. I came innocently bearing cookies and you let your dog sit on me.”

She tilted her chin down. “You didn’t come innocently. My dad told your mom that I needed to be around good influences and so here you are—the good influence welcome wagon. The I’m-too-busy-doing-my-homework-to-have-fun poster girl.”

Ah. Her dad had talked to Mrs. Taylor, so she thought I was Samantha.

“Nobody told me anything about you,” I said pointedly, although suddenly I wished they had. “And my mom has never met your father. I just came by to be friendly.”

Elise studied me for a moment, discerning whether I was telling the truth. “Fine.” She picked up one of the glasses and poured soda into it. “If you’re not trying to reform me, you can stay.”

As if I wanted to stay.

She handed me a drink and gestured toward the recliner. “You can sit there. Goliath doesn’t fit on it.”

I wanted to tell her that I had to be going, but decided to give her another chance. I moved a suitcase, sat down, and took a sip of

Elise rifled through a box sitting at her feet. “When I asked you what you did for fun, what I really meant was where do you party?”

“I don’t drink,” I said. “It’s illegal.”

She pulled out a can of beer that had been buried underneath clothes and wiped off the top. “Yeah, so is speeding, but everybody does that.” She laughed, then stopped when she saw my expression. “What? You don’t speed?”

There wasn’t much of a point to speeding in small towns. It wasn’t worth risking a ticket just to shave two minutes off your time. I shrugged. “It would ruin my insurance rate.”

Elise sighed, opened her can, and poured it over the ice in her cup. She swirled it around and took a drink, then poured the now chilled beer back into the can.

I watched her not knowing what to say. I knew some sophomores drank, but it was four thirty in the afternoon on a Monday. Wasn’t drinking like that a sign of alcoholism?

Off in the distance I heard wailing. The noise got louder and louder until two young girls shrieked into the room. One held a doll up in the air while the other chased her around the boxes.

Elise put her can on the floor, stood up, and grabbed both of them by their collars. “Stop it!”

The girls barely seemed to notice that Elise had a hold of them. The older of the two, who couldn’t have been more than six, kept reaching for the doll. “It’s mine!”

“It isn’t your Skipper,” the other said. “It’s mine!”

Elise took the doll. The girls tried to grab it, but she pushed them away. “Be quiet. Skipper is trying to say something.”

Both girls grew silent, suspicious. Elise held the doll up to her ear. “Skipper says she’s tired of you two pulling her apart and she wants to be my doll.”

“She did not!” they cried together.

“She did too. She also says you’re both ugly little trolls.”

“She did not!”

“She did too. Now go watch TV, and if I hear any more arguing, the TV and I will have a talk too.”

The girls took a few sullen steps away. In unison they turned back and stuck out their tongues. Then they ran out of the room.

Elise tossed the doll onto the floor, sat down, and went back to drinking her beer. She wasn’t casual about it. Each sip was angry, determined, like she was making a point. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“None. I’m an only child.”

“That must be great.”

“Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn’t.”

A car pulled into the driveway. Elise swore and looked for someplace to hide her beer. She reached for the box, but when the car door slammed she ditched the can behind a chair cushion instead. She finished the whole production just before the door opened and her older brother walked in. He looked a lot like Elise. His black hair was wavy and a few stray curls lay against his forehead, like he’d just walked in from the beach. His blue eyes made a striking contrast to his dark hair, and he had a face that would make the girls at PHS take a second look. And probably a third looks too.

Elise said, “Oh, it’s only you,” and took the can out again.

Without noticing either of us, he opened one of the boxes on the floor and sifted through papers in it. “Mom and Dad decided to stay late at the store. I’m just picking up the invoice sheets, then I’m going back.”