A FEW HOURS LATER, JULIE let Carson take her hand as they walked across the parking lot downtown. She couldn’t believe they were doing this, right out here in front of . . . well, everyone. And more than that, she still couldn’t believe he wanted to.
People passed them on either side. Julie didn’t recognize anyone from school yet, but she knew they would be here—it was Thursday night, prime hanging-out-downtown time. Then a familiar girl slipped around the corner. She had a navy Marc by Marc Jacobs satchel that Julie recognized, because Julie had the same one.
Ashley? Julie’s heart started to bang in her chest, and her palms felt clammy. She pulled her hand away.
“What is it?” Carson turned to look at her.
Julie flinched. “Nothing. Sorry. I just thought I saw someone over there.”
Carson eyed her for a moment, then shrugged and gestured to an American Apparel store. “Want to go inside?”
“No!” Julie said it a little more forcefully than was normal. But everyone at Beacon High shopped at American Apparel. Surely someone she knew was in there.
Carson was looking at her even more strangely now. She swallowed hard and tried to regain her composure. “American Apparel is so mainstream,” she said in a flip voice. “I have a secret place I like around the corner. It’s so hip that the workers look down on the customers. If you don’t have cool facial hair or tattoos or, like, read the right indie blogs, they’ll roll their eyes.”
Carson raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure I’m cool enough to go?”
She smiled in spite of her nerves. “You, Carson Wells, are the coolest of the cool.”
“Even without creative facial hair?”
“Please don’t get creative facial hair,” Julie giggled.
Then Carson leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Julie peeked around to see if anyone was watching, but all the passersby were minding their own business. Of course they are, she told herself. She needed to just relax. She could do that, right?
They walked to the corner and turned toward the smaller streets just off the main drag. Julie’s favorite boutique, Tara’s Consignment, was ahead. It was where she bought most of her clothes; designer cast-offs at a fraction of the price, all she could afford on her lifeguard salary. As she took in the Gone with the Wind display in the windows—the owner was obsessed with the movie—she thought back to the last time she’d been shopping at Tara’s. She’d bought Parker a studded bracelet. Not that Parker had even worn it.
Parker. Things still felt off between them. They hadn’t really talked about what happened to Parker’s dad—or the coincidence of him dying not long after Julie had named him in class. Even though Julie still wasn’t sure anyone overheard them, she had to admit it was a strange coincidence. She wished she knew what had happened to the notes Granger had taken on the yellow legal pad, documenting what they’d said. She’d sworn she’d taken the pad, but when she’d riffled through her things, it wasn’t there.
On top of that, Parker was disappearing more and more often lately, and it seemed like she couldn’t remember where she’d been. And whenever Julie asked, Parker got weird and cagey, like she was hiding something.
“Julie.” Carson’s voice pierced her thoughts. They were standing in front of Tara’s now. A few kids with Technicolor-dyed hair who Julie didn’t recognize edged past them to go inside.
“Sorry,” she said brightly, smiling. “What did you say?”
Carson placed his hands on his hips. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”
Julie sighed. This was exactly why she’d never had a boyfriend—she knew she’d never be able to hide her feelings. She wanted to be totally transparent for Carson, she really did. But it wasn’t easy.
“I was just thinking about my friend,” she admitted. “Parker—I don’t know if you’ve met her yet. She’s kind of a loner. I’m worried about her is all. There was a death in her family recently, and I think it’s messing with her head.”
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in close. “You’re such a good person, Julie,” he said, running a hand through her hair. “So caring. So selfless. And you’re so beautiful. You know that, right?”
Julie felt her skin flush. “Thanks . . .”
Carson pulled her back toward him and kissed her firmly. Julie kissed him back, losing herself in the kiss. Finally, her head buzzing, she pulled away and led him into the store. She bobbed and weaved a little as she walked, practically drunk from the kiss.
“This place is amazing,” Carson exclaimed as they walked inside, his accent floating over the racks of tweedy coats, fedoras, and last-year’s Barney’s best sellers. A guy at the counter gave them a withering glare. Julie nudged Carson to look up. The sales guy was covered in black tattoos, had a curly mustache and a weird, pointy beard, and was reading a manga comic.