really sarcastically, so I glared at him. “Brad Willis.”

“Brad Willis, huh? A guy with both the build and the intelligence of a semi truck. A perfect match for you.”

I shoved my copies of Dr. Spock onto the shelf with a thunk. “Yeah, well, I’d tell you who your perfect match is, but I don’t know anyone with the personality of a broken-down bicycle.”

I walked back to the cart, and Logan followed me. “Are you and Brad serious?”

“We’ve been going out for a month and a half.”

“So you’re about through with him then?”

I forced a smile on my lips. “No, but I’m through with you. Go away.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” he said with a perfectly straight face. “I was just asking because I know someone who wants to go out with you.”

I didn't suppose Logan had taken up match-making, but my curiosity got the better of me. “Oh? Who?”

Logan hesitated for a moment, as though he wasn’t sure he should come right out and tell me, then said, “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but you aren’t into guys who are big in the brains department, right?”

“I went out with you, didn’t I?” I meant it as an insult. I was agreeing with him and using him as an example of the stupidity of my boyfriends.

“Yeah,” he said, “but for the most part the guys you date aren’t heavy on the I part of IQ, right?”

There’s nothing more frustrating than insulting someone who doesn’t get it. “Just tell me who it is, okay?”

“Doug Campton.”

Doug was one of those guys who must have been starved for attention as a child and was thus making up for it now by being a class clown. If something stupid happened at Pull -

man High, chances were Doug was involved. His last escapade involved his stealing the school-mascot outfit—a greyhound that actually looked more like a giant, happy rat. He put on the outfit, along with a bikini top and a hula skirt, and then ran through the gym during a home basketball game, carrying a sign that not only insulted the entire female population of PHS but also questioned our shaving habits.

Totally juvenile.

I gathered a few books in one arm. “Tell Doug, I’m flattered but I'd rather just be friends.”

Logan, who hasn’t ever taken an interest in my love life other than to make fun of whom I’m dating, looked disappointed. “Oh, come on. Why don’t you give him a chance?”

“Why?”

Logan shrugged and held out one hand in a pleading fashion. “I like the guy, and for some reason he likes you. I just want you both to be happy.”

“No, really. Why?”

Logan was silent for a moment, as though debating what to say next. “All right," he finally said. "I’ll tell you. Doug has this cousin who lives in Moscow. Veronica.” Logan said her name as though savoring the word. “Her family came to watch him play the last baseball game, and I met her. She was really nice, and well, Doug says he can set me up with her if I set him up with you.”

“Why don’t you just call Veronica yourself?” Moscow, Idaho, is only eight miles away from Pullman, and even though Pullman is in Washington, the cities are so close together and both so small, we've always used the same phone book.

“I don’t know her last name, and Doug won’t tell me. It’s blackmail, and I need your help." Logan leaned closer to me and turned on his most charming smile—the one where his mouth quirked up at the corner and made him look like he was about to commit some act of irresistible mischief. "Come on, Samantha, you go out with everybody. What difference would it make if you go out with Doug? Just one date with him, that’s all I’m asking.”

Logan had never asked me for a favor before. I enjoyed the moment and smiled over at him graciously. “You know, I was in a bad mood when I came in, and I have to thank you for doing your part to bring me out of it. Really, it’s so gratifying to know I have the power to make you happy or miserable. I feel much better now.”

“I’ll take your next weekend shift for you.”

“Not a chance.” I ran a finger over the books in the cart, checking a last time for any that might be in my section.

“The next two.”

“Nope.”

He let out a huff of frustration. “All right, you tell me what it would take. What do you want from me?”

It was ironic he should offer to help me now, when I needed help so badly. If Logan could have somehow made my SAT scores go up, I would have jumped at the chance. But he couldn’t do that. No one could. I suppose I could have asked him to help me study for the entire next year, but he wouldn’t have agreed to that.

I sighed dejectedly. “Sorry, what I want, you can’t get me.”

Logan blinked at me, his eyebrows raised in a question. He probably thought I was talking about some sort of criminal activity. In a mildly shocked voice he said, “And what exactly would that be?”

“Better grades.”

“Oh. Well, you’re right there.” He paused for a moment and then added, “Since when did you start caring about your grades?”

I pulled another book off the cart. “Since I started thinking about college.”

“Ahh, I guess that cheerleading scholarship didn’t come through, huh?”

“No, and I suppose you’re still waiting for your application to comedian school.”

Logan picked up a stack of books from the cart. “Naw, I’m going to Western Washington University.”

WWU. That was one of the schools I’d been considering. You’d think that knowing Logan was going there would have made WWU seem less desirable, but it had the opposite effect. I absolutely couldn’t be rejected by a place that Logan could be so casual about getting into.

“Are you sure you have the grades to get in?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I think so. And besides, they take other factors into consideration when they review your application. I’ve been in student body council for years.” He smiled over at me nonchalantly. “I’ve got leadership qualities.”

“And so many other qualities too—many of which I have to endure on a daily basis.

Do they take those into consideration too?”

Logan laughed then, which was something else I found annoying. One moment he’d be so spiteful I’d want to slap him, and the next moment he’d smile over at me like we were the best of friends.

“If you go out with Doug, I promise never to annoy you again.”

“That’s a promise you can’t keep.” I walked over to the general fiction section with my stack of books, and this time Logan didn’t follow me. I knew he hadn’t given up on this whole Doug thing, though. He’d probably be bugging me for days, until I was so frustrated with it all I’d have to drive to Moscow and go on a door-to-door search for Veronica myself.

Still, I wasn’t mad at Logan. In fact, for the first time in the shift I was in a good mood because he’d given me an idea. As soon as Logan mentioned leadership qualities, I mulled it over. Why couldn’t I do something that would show my leadership qualities too? I had them, after all. As head cheerleader, I was constantly organizing things. All I had to do was show colleges that I was a leader. And the election for next year’s school officers was less than a month away.

When I got home from work, I kept the envelope with my SAT scores in my purse and didn’t mention to my parents that they’d come. I wasn’t exactly sure what their reaction to a score of 810 would be, but I had a vague fear it might be grounding me until I reached that same age.

The lecturing would go on all night.

Dad: Young lady, you obviously need to spend more time on your studies. Don’t come out of your room until you can calculate the square root of pi in your head.

Me: But—

Mom: And no more dating until you’re a straight-A student.

Dad: That’s right. We’ve never liked the guys you hang around with, and this gives us the perfect excuse to banish them from your life. From here on out, we decree that any guys who are cute, cool, or listen to music with lyrics we can’t understand won’t be allowed to cross our threshold.