Bo waited for Cole to agree with him.

“But she is something,” Bo sighed.

Jiminy had been an unexpected distraction. Her hesitancy intrigued him. Her flashes of assertiveness unnerved him. And kissing her had been a revelation. Bo wanted to kiss her again, and the thought that he might not be able to made him frantic.

“Damn,” he said quietly to himself.

He knew that in this town there were plenty of reasons to think twice about pursuing her. Of all people, Cole knew this, too. Cole had fought many fights over his friendship with Bo.

“Dude,” Cole said, as he caught and held the ball.

Bo stared at him, wondering if there would be more.

“Go get her.”

Bo broke into a grin. They knew this place. They were of this place. But they were young.

Jiminy was reading outside, scratching a mosquito bite with one hand and swinging her free-hanging leg back and forth so that it made a pendulum shadow against the smooth stone patio. She looked up when Bo’s truck pulled into the driveway, grateful that if a person kept her ears open, the gravel made it impossible for anyone to sneak up.

“Hey,” she said, as she half-closed her book.

She started to smile but held herself back, letting only the edges of it creep into her voice. She wasn’t sure whether she and Bo were liking each other or not. She’d been confused by their last encounter.

“What are your thoughts on Dairy Queen?” he asked.

She closed her book all the way.

“This is the only thing cows are good for,” Jiminy said as she licked her chocolate-dipped vanilla cone. “And hamburgers. And cheese. In that order.”

They were sitting at a picnic table in the grass between the road and the Dairy Queen parking lot.

“Have you always been scared of them?” Bo asked between bites of his caramel sundae.

Jiminy nodded.

“They’re evil,” she whispered.

“They’re dumb,” Bo offered.

“That’s the worst kind of evil,” Jiminy replied.

“That’s debatable,” Bo countered with a grin. “Evil geniuses are no picnic.”

“Fair point,” Jiminy conceded.

It was a hot day and their ice cream was melting fast. Jiminy’s hand was already covered in sticky melted sugar.

“Hang on, I’m gonna grab some napkins,” she said as she jumped up and crossed the parking lot.

She’d just made it inside the Dairy Queen doorway when she ran into Suze Connors, who was wearing a midriff halter top and looking even more pregnant than before—something Jiminy wouldn’t have thought possible.

“Jiminy!” Suze yipped affectionately. “Ma, look who it is! I told you Jiminy was in town.”

Suze’s mother was a damp, solidly built woman who looked Jiminy up and down with a lazy flicker of her eyelids. These languid lids were the most active part of a round, clammy face. When she smiled, her teeth came out as slowly as a snail from its shell.

“Howya doin’?” she asked.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Jiminy said. “You’re about to get another grandbaby, I see.”

She’d never used the word “grandbaby” in her life, but it seemed to fit with this place and these circumstances. Mrs. Connors nodded.

“Any minute now,” she said. “And then it’ll just take another minute for Suze to get pregnant again.”

“Oh, Mama, it will not,” Suze replied, rolling her eyes at Jiminy.

Jiminy smiled sympathetically, unsure of whether she meant it for Suze or for Suze’s mother. Suze had always been perfectly nice to her, and she seemed to still be a kind woman. There was no reason she shouldn’t reproduce as much as she liked.

“I thought you would have had it by now,” Jiminy said lamely.

“Maybe a milkshake’ll jar it loose,” Suze answered good-naturedly. “Are you here alone?”

It was a reasonable question. Jiminy had shown up at the pool alone; perhaps she was moping all around Fayeville looking for company.

“No, I’m with someone, actually,” Jiminy answered. “He’s outside.”

She motioned toward the door.

“Oooh, a date?” Suze trilled.

Jiminy paused. She shrugged nonchalantly, but couldn’t help her smile, much as she knew she should. The rogue smile was all it took.

“It is!” Suze squealed. “Who is he? Someone from here?”

Jiminy mentally kicked herself. She stalled, weighing her options. Should she lie? Downplay? Flaunt? She didn’t feel ready for this.

“I don’t know if you know him,” she hedged.

“We’ll find you on our way out,” Suze exclaimed, winking and squeezing Jiminy’s arm before lumbering off to join her mom at the counter.

As Jiminy walked back, armed with napkins and a fresh uncertainty, she pondered her options. She wasn’t sure how Suze would react to her and Bo being together. Perhaps she’d be as mellow and accepting as Cole, but perhaps she wouldn’t. Jiminy wondered if she should warn Bo. He was staring at her.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

It bothered her that she was so transparent.

“Nothing,” she replied, quickly bending her frown smileward as she brainstormed innocuous explanations. She’d act completely normal with him, no matter what came their way. “I was just thinking of my mom. She used to take me to Dairy Queen for breakfast.”

“Sounds like a fantasy mom,” Bo replied. “Are you guys close?”

Jiminy shook her head.

“Not really. She sort of checked out when I was still a kid.”

“I’m sorry,” Bo said sincerely. “Does it bother you to talk about it?”

Before Jiminy could answer, Suze and her mother ambled out into the parking lot. Suze spotted Jiminy and stopped abruptly, looking bewildered. Her mother looked unambiguously disapproving. There were no slug teeth in sight. Just grim, set lip lines.

“I guess that’s a yes,” Bo said.

Jiminy redirected her attention to him.

“What? No, I don’t mind,” Jiminy said, a little flustered. “Sorry, I just got distracted by some friends. Do you know Suze Connors?”

Jiminy gestured to where Suze and her mom had been standing, but they were already in their car, pulling out onto the road. Apparently, they didn’t always move so slowly.

“Huh,” Jiminy said.

“Guess they’ve got somewhere to be,” Bo said wryly.

Jiminy stayed silent, and pained.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bo continued. “I’m much more interested in you. So what happened with your mom?”

“More like what didn’t happen with her,” Jiminy replied, still staring at the road. “Not to be dramatic,” she continued, shifting her gaze back toward Bo. “It’s not a big deal. She had a car accident when I was six. Nothing serious, but she suffered whiplash, so she was given painkillers, and then she got a little too into those.”

Bo nodded. It was understandable; he wasn’t judging. Jiminy appreciated this.

The accident had at first seemed relatively innocuous—the sort of thing that disrupted a morning but was mainly forgotten by evening, except for lingering insurance implications. But as the painkillers overstayed their welcome, a lot of things began slipping and fraying, sneaking their way toward a permanent shift. Jiminy noticed her mother’s dependency on the pills, and was forced to weather the mood swings and the ensuing marital discord. She knew that the day she was sent to the Paint-Your-Own-Pot store at the mall to make something nice for her grandmother was a day of reckoning. Knew when she returned and her father was gone that the day hadn’t gone well. Naturally shy to begin with, Jiminy retreated into the role of the awkward, self-absorbed child to avoid having to admit all that she knew to people who would feel obliged to counsel her through it. She learned to be quiet and small, to disappear into backgrounds, to suffocate her sentences before they could betray her. She learned to bottle herself up.

As she folded inward, Jiminy tried to hold fast to her mother. She convinced herself that what her father and everyone else failed to understand was that her mother was finally having fun. A life without pain was a life worth celebrating, with spontaneous dancing and all-night games and endless, shifting plans. It was childhood rediscovered. It was being young at heart. Jiminy understood this. Consistency was a virtue adults overrated so they didn’t have to focus on how utterly boring everyday existence was. To gulp all that away and embrace a new reality—how fresh! How rejuvenating! Jiminy opted to go along for the ride, so as not to be left behind.