“It’s not that simple,” Mom said. “It affects me too. And your father.”

Ellie snorted. “We’re trying to protect him now?” she asked, sitting back in her chair and folding her arms. “He’s never done one single thing for us, never even tried to find us—”

“You know that’s because I told him not to.”

“—and yet you still worry about him? If he ends up running for president, they’ll probably find us anyway. So what’s the difference?”

“They might,” she said. “But they also might not. That was three campaigns ago now. There are new scandals all the time. They’ll bring it up like they always do, but it doesn’t mean they’ll necessarily seek us out.”

“I thought you just said there were no boundaries.”

“As far as politics goes, it’s old news,” she said. “But as far as celebrity gossip? It’s a big story. Anything involving that kid seems to be a big story.” Mom pushed the last pancake around on her plate. “Don’t you get it? We have a life here. I worked hard to make that happen. And once something like this is out there, you can’t take it back.”

Ellie’s voice, when she spoke, was very small. “But I really like him.”

“I know,” Mom said, reaching out to put a hand on top of hers. “But even if your father wasn’t an issue, you don’t want this. Trust me. Nobody wants to wake up to photographers camped out on their front lawn. I’m sure Graham Larkin would say the same thing.”

As she walked to work later, Ellie wondered if that was true. When she’d asked Graham about being recognized, he hadn’t wanted to talk about it, though when it came to the photographers in town, he seemed oddly resigned, treating them with no more ill will than a pesky stray dog that refuses to take a hint. She’d seen so many photos of him in Quinn’s magazines, leaving the gym or trying to have a quiet dinner at a restaurant, and it didn’t seem possible that someone could ever get entirely used to that sort of thing.

As she passed the trailers, she noticed the crowds were thinner than usual, and she remembered Graham saying they’d be filming out on the water. Even so, she spotted one of the photographers smoking a cigarette off to the side, and she quickened her pace, still unsettled by the morning’s conversation. She was grateful her first shift was at Sprinkles; even if Quinn was still mad at her, it would be better than being stuck in a small space with Mom all day as she tried to figure out what she was going to do about Graham.

But when she pushed open the door of the shop, she was surprised to see Devon’s curly head pop up from behind the counter.

“Hey,” she said, walking over and dropping her bag. “Where’s Quinn?”

He slid his eyes away. “She asked me to cover her shift.”

“How come?” Ellie asked. “Is she feeling okay?”

Devon nodded, but he still wouldn’t look at her.

“Is she avoiding me?”

After a moment, he lifted his gaze. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I bet she just had something else she needed to do.”

Ellie nodded. She’d known Devon since he was four years old; he was nice to a fault and unfailingly earnest. If he was lying, it was only to spare her feelings. With a sigh, she reached for the metal tub they used for dirty ice-cream scoops, taking it over to the sink in back, where she could be alone.

They spent much of the morning in silence. In between customers, Devon sat perched on a bar stool reading a worn copy of The Great Gatsby, and Ellie fought back the urge to pepper him with questions.

When her shift was up, she began to gather her things, and Devon lowered his book. “That’s exciting about the movie guy.”

Ellie smiled. “I guess.”

“Want me to tell Quinn you said hi?”

“That’d be great,” she said. “Thanks.”

He nodded and resumed reading, but when she was nearly to the door, Ellie stopped and turned around again.

“Hey, Devon?” she said, and he looked up, his glasses slipping on his nose. “That’s exciting about you and Quinn too.”

His smile broadened. “Thanks.”

Outside, the wind had picked up, and Ellie stood blinking away the dust and grit that were flying around. Down the street, she could see an unfamiliar boat coming into the harbor, two men in dark Windbreakers leaning off the bow, and even before she spotted Graham and Olivia, she guessed it was the one they were using for the movie. Someone cut the engine as it neared the buoys that marked the far edge of the harbor, and the boat slowed, a few seagulls making lazy circles above it.

Ellie was far enough away that she couldn’t make out anyone’s face, but she could see that Olivia was standing very close to Graham, even as he looked out at the wake of the boat. She wondered if she should be feeling jealous. She realized most girls probably would. But from everything she knew about Olivia, it seemed like a guy would have to be schizophrenic in order to be interested in both her and Ellie at the same time. And from the way Graham had kissed her last night, she knew that wasn’t the case. She knew he was only interested in her.

It was this that propelled her down the hill: the memory of that kiss. She was supposed to be at her mom’s shop right now; her shift was just beginning, and there was plenty she needed to do. But as the boat came closer to the dock, Ellie found herself walking toward the water, as if drawn by some kind of magnetic force.

She still didn’t know what she was going to do. Deep down, she understood that her mother was right. And not just about the cameras, but about all of it. The same thoughts kept tumbling around in her head, like clothes left too long in a dryer. He was too big a star. His life was too different. He’d be leaving soon. He’d hurt her.

But at the moment, none of that seemed to matter.

She simply wanted to be closer to him.

By the time she made it down to the bait shop that was perched at the edge of the marina, the boat had drawn up alongside the dock and she could read the name painted on the stern: Go Fish. Graham climbed out onto the gray wooden dock. He was dressed in a suit and tie, which struck Ellie as an odd choice of sailing apparel until she remembered that the scene took place just after his character’s father’s funeral, when Jasper flees the church in order to take the boat out on his own, only to be followed by Zoe.

A gust of wind skipped over the water, and Olivia used one hand to pin down the bottom of her dress as someone took the other to help her off the boat. When she was safely on solid ground, she and Graham made their way together up the long walkway, flanked by the director and a few assistants, all of them with headsets and clipboards and grim expressions. Two members of the crew stayed behind to secure the equipment; Graham had mentioned yesterday that they wouldn’t be done until late in the afternoon, but Ellie suspected they had to break early because of the weather.

A crowd had gathered along the harbor wall, and the screams reached a fever pitch as the two stars approached. A few oversize security guards patrolled the edges, but this didn’t prevent the tourists from recording it all on their phones or the tween girls from leaning over the rail with wide-eyed glee as Graham approached. Olivia paused to whisper something in his ear before stopping to sign a few autographs, and the rest of the paparazzi appeared as if from nowhere, moving in to bear witness to the moment with their heavy cameras.

Ellie had come to a stop near the harbormaster’s office, still a safe distance away from the crowds, but as he headed back toward his trailer, Graham looked over. His eyes found hers quickly, so quickly it was almost like he’d known she would be there. She smiled reflexively at him, but before she had a chance to do anything else—shake her head or give him some sort of sign—he changed direction, walking toward her without seeming to notice that the attention of the entire dockside had shifted his way.