At the far end of the bar, Darcy laughed. She laid her hand on Fisher’s arm and he smiled down at her, clearly enjoying her attention. To my surprise, Joaquin’s smile died. He plucked another mug from under the bar, filled it, and slammed it down on the counter.

“Sister’s moving on, I see,” he said.

“What’s the matter?” I asked as a round of laughter rose up from a nearby table. “Jealous?”

He leaned both hands into the bar. “Not in the least.” But I could tell by the twitch at the corner of his right eye that he was lying. “What’s there to be jealous of?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

We faced off, each waiting for the other to blink.

“Um, I’m gonna go check out the jukebox,” Jennifer said, sliding off her stool.

I took a seat and rested my elbows on the bar, my head in my hands.

“So. You’ve had an interesting couple of days,” Joaquin said, his voice going quiet and uncharacteristically gentle. “You okay?”

“Do I look okay?”

He chuckled. “You look like you’re gonna be fine. It takes a little while to adjust, but there is an upside to being stuck here forever.”

“You mean the sense of fulfillment you get from ushering souls to their ultimate destinations?” I said.

Joaquin’s smile froze. “God! You sound like a Tristan Parrish disciple. No, woman!” He filled another mug with beer and slid it down the bar. “I was going to say that you get to hang out with me.”

I barked a laugh. “You’re such a jerk.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Joaquin said lightly. “But honestly, there are definite perks to being a Lifer. Other than what Tristan the Serious tells you.”

I raised one eyebrow. “Like what?”

Joaquin leaned into the counter to get closer to my ear and lowered his voice. “We can’t get sick, we can’t die,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “And we also get to stay young and hot forever.” He stood up straight and threw his arms wide as I rolled my eyes. “In Juniper Landing, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Yeah. Except the concept of eternity,” I muttered.

He waved a dismissive hand at me. “Eh. You get used to that.”

Shaking my head, I looked over my shoulder at Jennifer. “So, I’m not really sure how all this works,” I whispered. “Do you know how she died?”

“Brain tumor,” Joaquin said matter-of-factly.

My stomach clenched. “Oh my god.”

He popped open a bottle of beer and took a swig. “Yeah, it was pretty quick, though. Only a month between diagnosis and pffft.” He made a deflating sound with his lips, like letting the air out of a balloon.

“Wow. How very respectful of you,” I said sarcastically.

“What? She doesn’t know she’s dead,” he said quietly. “All she remembers is that she was diagnosed. As far as she’s concerned, she’s on vacation, and she’ll be outta here in a day, anyway. Kid spent half her life volunteering with underprivileged children and the other half being polite. It’s just too bad she won’t be here longer so she could get a chance to sow an oat or two.” His eyes flicked over her like he was considering the possibility of helping her out with that particular situation. I shot him a withering look and turned my back on him.

“Hey! I’m just doing my job.”

“Whatever,” I said. “So how do you—”

But when I glanced over my shoulder, Joaquin was already gone. He’d moved down the bar to tend to the clamoring throng, leaving me with my unanswered questions. Like how, exactly, he knew all these things about Jennifer. Whether he was going to be the one to usher her. How these new souls were assigned to Lifers in the first place. Were they assigned? Or was I supposed to just start chatting someone up and see if they were ready to move on?

I took a deep breath and sighed, wishing Tristan would show up already.

“I know, sucks in here, right?”

Startled, I looked over and found myself staring into the dark brown eyes of one of the new arrivals—the guy in the ripped jeans who’d seemed so lost when he’d stepped off the ferry today. He had a tiny scar through his eyebrow and didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands; he touched the back of his neck, crossed his arms, then hooked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Totally,” I said.

“You live here?” he asked, standing next to me and gazing down at the drinks menu.

I hesitated for a split second. “Yep, uh…yeah. I’m Rory. Rory Thayer.”

“Brian Wohl,” he said, lifting a hand. “Just got here from North Carolina.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” He looked up at Joaquin, who had reappeared in front of us. “Can I get a beer? Whatever’s on tap.”

“You got it.” Joaquin quickly filled a mug for him.

I wondered whether he had the same gut feeling about Brian that Tristan had had this morning, but he just went right along tipping bottles over glasses, digging ice out of the freezer, and chatting with the customers. Brian sipped his beer while the room around us buzzed and hummed and laughed and clinked.

“So, Rory. That’s a nice name,” Brian said eventually, leaning one elbow on the bar. I felt awkward, sitting while he was standing, but there were no seats to be had.

“I’ll tell my dad you think so,” I joked. He raised his eyebrows at me in question. “He picked it.”

“Oh.” Brian took a swig of beer, then sucked his teeth. “I don’t know who picked my name. I never thought about it.”

“One or both of your parents, I’d guess,” I said.

“The thing is, I can’t really imagine them doing it,” Brian replied. He ran one finger around the rim of his mug on the bar, his eyes downcast. “I can’t imagine them caring long enough to think about it.”

“Oh.” Now I was the one who didn’t know what to do with my hands. I tucked them under my thighs and cleared my throat. “That sounds rough.”

“Sorry,” he said, his neck turning blotchy. “That’ll kill your conversation, right?” He let out a sharp sort of laugh as the blotchiness spread to his cheeks.

“No, no. It’s fine.”

I had the sinking feeling that I was very out of my element and glanced down the bar toward my sister, as if she could somehow telepathically tell me what to do. But I couldn’t even see her from where I was sitting, the crowd around her was so thick. Brian sighed and shook his head, like he was annoyed at himself. At least we were in this sinking boat together.

“So…uh…what brings you here?” I asked, then immediately regretted it. He had no idea what had brought him here. He didn’t even know what here really was.

“I had to get away from my family,” he said, looking away.

“How come?” I asked.

His eyes flashed. “You always ask so many questions?”

My face burned. “Sorry. I just…forget it.” And Darcy wondered why I hated parties.

“Not everyone has parents who like them,” Brian said tersely.

“I know,” I replied, my voice thick. “For a long time I didn’t think my dad liked me. All he’s done for the past four years is bitch at me and my sister, so—”

“I bet he never threw you out of your own house.”

He tossed back the rest of his beer and dropped the heavy mug on the bar like a punctuation mark.

My heart broke for him. “That’s…Brian, I’m so sorry.”

Brian leaned forward and rubbed his palms together. His fingers were dirty, the cracks in his knuckles dark with grime.

“Yep. Nothing was ever good enough for them. I graduated, got a job in a garage…but it still wasn’t enough, so…” He shook his head and shrugged. “Anyway, it’s okay, because now…I’m free.”

He spread his arms wide and smiled. There was a gap between his front teeth that gave him a charming, boyish look.

“I guess there’s always a bright side,” I said, forcing a smile. He had no idea just how “free” he was.

He pressed his lips together, considering this. “Always a bright side,” he said. “I like that.”

A relieved smile crossed my face. Finally, I’d said something right. A pack of raucous guys in the corner erupted in a cacophonous round of jeers and shouts. Brian winced.