“Freddie’s giving him space to work on it there.”

“And my mom’s excited to get me out of the house.” Keith grimaced. “She said now that Ephemera broke up, I need to get a job or she’ll make me work at the magazine.”

I nodded. Keith’s father was a former surfing champion-turned-publisher, and both of Keith’s older siblings worked for Breakers, the magazine their dad founded when he retired from the professional circuit. From the sound of it, though, Keith had no interest in any aspects of the family business.

Keith leaned back in his seat and studied Ally. “So where’s York taking you?”

“Mini golf,” she said, looking down at her salad. “It should be fun.”

“It’s only the most adorable thing ever,” Jake said in his best imitation of her. Ally shifted in her seat, and he yelped. “Ow! What was that for?”

She looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I kick you?”

Bianca and I exchanged questioning glances again, neither of us sure of what was going on.

“Jake,” Ally said in a singsong voice, “I have a song stuck in my head, and I can’t think of the name of it. Something about a guy who’s madly in love with a girl who has no idea and he’s too afraid to tell her. Do you know what song that is?”

His metal chair scraped the floor as he stood abruptly and took his tray to the nearest garbage can. He disappeared into the crowded cafeteria without a word or a backward glance. I watched his retreating figure, wondering what had spurred the sudden departure. Across from me, Ally wore a wicked smirk while Keith had his head bowed, his shoulders shaking.

“Are you okay?” I said.

He held up a hand and got to his feet, grinning. “I’m cool. Catch you later,” he said with a nod to Ally before he left.

“Bye.” She smiled down at her food.

“This York guy,” Tim said. “Are you sure you want to go out with him?”

Ally looked surprised by his question. “Well, yeah.” She poked her salad and said, “I mean, he’s cute. And he asked me out.”

“And he’s a good guy,” Finn added.

Ally considered that and smiled. “Yes. He’s a very good guy.”

Chapter Twelve

Mom shooed me out of the house the following afternoon to meet with some real estate people. Real ones, this time. It was fine; I needed to go someplace relatively quiet to work on my project for Mr. Collins and Mrs. Riley. My friends all had other plans, and the “relatively quiet” requirement ruled out hanging out with them, anyway, so I was happy to find a quiet corner of the Bookish Bean where I could grab a cup of tea, spread out my stuff, and work in peace.

Sort of. My sketches weren’t cooperating. I was having difficulty getting Ally’s patrician nose exactly right, and my eraser had smudged it, making it look more bulbous than dignified and straight.

Something told me Ally wouldn’t have appreciated that.

I tilted my head to study the sketch from a different angle before I attacked it again with my eraser.

“Talia!” someone called. I looked up and forced a tired smile. Clover was headed in my direction.

“Oh, hey.” I moved some of my stuff to make room for her drink and scone. She took the seat beside me and peered at my drawing.

“What are you working on?”

“A poster for the spring musical,” I said with a heavy sigh as I pushed it away. “I don’t know what I was thinking. This is awful.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” She leaned forward to study it closely. “It’s got kind of a Drew Struzan vibe to it,” she said, referring to the artist best known for his iconic movie posters and album covers. “Like, it’s not there yet, but is that kind of what you’re going for?”

I was surprised. Clover recognized the style I was trying to emulate. Though just about everyone had seen his work, I didn’t think many of my classmates knew who Drew Struzan was. But, then again, Clover’s dad had probably had dinner with him or something.

“It looks a lot better in my head than it does on paper,” I said.

She bit into her scone and covered her mouth as she spoke. “I know what you mean. There are so many times I’ll get an idea for a song in my head, but when I sit down and try to recreate it, it all sounds wrong.”

“So what do you do?”

“It depends,” she said. “Sometimes I keep going and try to at least get the concept down to tweak later. Sometimes I end up throwing it away.” She took another bite and added, “My dad says a lot of artsy types have to abandon projects because they aren’t fully developed. He could be full of it and saying stuff to make me feel better, but whatever.”

A stifling silence descended while she picked at her pastry.

“What are you doing here?” I blurted. It sounded ruder than I intended, but fortunately, Clover didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she didn’t mind.

“Stopping for coffee before I head over to Vinyl Cuts.” She held up her cup.

I wanted to ask if she was bringing over more guitars to get serviced, but I thought better of it and said, “I think Jake’s working today.”

She took a sip of her drink and nodded. “Yeah, I know. He called about an hour ago. I guess some guy came in to sell a limited edition Signature Bonnie Raitt Strat. Sounds like it’s in pretty good shape, so my dad’s meeting me there to check it out.”

“Oh.” The whole idea of her guitar collection still baffled me. “That’s cool.”

Clover folded up the last of the scone in her napkin and set it aside. “I met your friend Ally yesterday,” she said, resting her elbows on the table. “She’s, um….”

“Kind of a whirlwind?” I suggested. I fought to keep my expression neutral. Playa del Lago was a tight-knit community. They were bound to meet each other eventually.

She grinned. “Yeah, that’s fair. Anyway, she was at the country club last night. Totally saved me.”

“What?” I couldn’t imagine Clover needing to be saved from anything.

“My dad was meeting some people there,” she explained. “Some contract negotiations or something.” She rolled her eyes, and I wondered how often she’d had to sit in on meetings like those. “But, yeah, Ally swept in and introduced herself.” She paused. “Is there anyone that girl doesn’t know?”

I raised my eyebrows. “In Playa del Lago? Not likely.”

“Well, I don’t think I need to tell you how chatty she is. I’m sure I know more than you’d ever want me to know about you and Bianca.”

I forced a tight smile and mentally plotted ways to torture Ally.

“Sounds like you guys have been friends a long time.”

“Yeah. They’ve always just been there, you know?”

“Not really, no.” She smiled, but it was a sad sort of smile, and it made me wonder who she hung out with when she wasn’t with Jake. I didn’t know many homeschooled kids or anything, but the ones I knew had tons of friends from stuff they did outside the house. But I had a feeling whatever this was had more to do with being Malcolm Davies’s daughter than it did with where she went to school.

And I suddenly felt very sorry for her.

“So how’s life with the new stepdad?” she said, a little more energy in her voice.

I stifled a groan. Maybe Ally really had told her everything. I suddenly didn’t feel so bad keeping some secrets to myself. “It’s okay, I guess.” I sipped my tea and added, “I’m not used to having him in the house all the time.”

“Was he really your old therapist? Because I would, like, completely freak if my dad married my old therapist.”

Did she tell her my entire life story? I wondered. I was torn between wanting to strangle Ally and preening at the thought of Clover needing therapy. Not that I could have imagined why she would’ve ever needed it.

“I only saw him once before I switched doctors,” I said. “It’s not so bad. I mean, except I never know how to answer his questions.”

She seemed to study me for a few seconds before she said, “That’s good. My stepdads have all been….” She lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug as if that completed her thought.