“Oh my God. Did someone take it?” Lara’s face floods with color as she jumps to her feet and looks around frantically. “Excuse me,” she says to an older woman having a cup of tea by herself two tables over. “Did you see a red bag anywhere? Like a tote bag, about this big?” She holds her hands a foot apart.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t,” the woman says. “But I just got here.”
“Who steals another person’s bag in the middle of a coffee shop?” Lara asks, putting her hands on her hips as she glares around us. “My keys are in there! How am I supposed to get home?” Then she seems to realize how much attention she’s drawing to herself, and takes a deep breath. When she speaks next, it’s in a much calmer voice. “Okay. First things first. I’m going to check with the cashier up front, on the off chance that one of the waitstaff thought it belonged to someone else.”
I grasp that straw with all the enthusiasm I can muster. “That’s probably exactly what happened,” I say, falling into step behind her as she weaves her way through the room toward the cash register. The line is six people deep, but Lara sidles right up to the counter and waves at the guy taking orders. He’s a few years older than me, arms covered in elaborate tattoos, and he smiles when she catches his eye.
“Excuse me, sorry to bother you,” Lara says breathlessly. “I’m not ordering, but I seem to have misplaced my bag, and I was wondering if anyone might have turned it in?”
I expect the guy to shake his head, but he pauses with one hand on the register. “What does it look like?” he asks.
“Red leather, brown strap? The front pocket has a gold clasp.”
“Sounds familiar.” The guy reaches beneath the counter, and pulls out her missing bag with a flourish. Lara exhales in relief as he hands it over. “Some girl said she grabbed it by mistake,” he says.
“Oh, thank God.” Lara unzips the front pocket and pulls out her wallet first, then her keys, before dropping them back inside. “Safe and sound. Thank you so much!”
“Anytime.” The guy grins, happy to play the hero, even though he didn’t do anything except happen to be on point for the lost and found.
“Whew, that gave me a scare.” Lara slings the bag over her shoulder and puts her hand over her heart, leading me away from the line to a less crowded space near the restrooms. “What an absolute nightmare of a morning. Cal, I feel terrible leaving you, but I need to figure some things out. Then we’ll see where we land, okay?”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
Before she can answer, her phone rings in her hand. She looks down and holds up a finger. “Hang on, this is my friend who used to rent the studio. I’d better take it. Please don’t say a word to anyone until we talk again, all right? Everything will be okay, I promise.” I nod, and she quickly pecks my cheek before turning away with her phone to her ear. “Dominick? Dominick, is that you? I can barely hear you. I’m going to find someplace quieter.” She heads for the café exit, and I slump against the wall. I can’t decide if I actually feel worse after talking with Lara, or just no better.
Wrong is wrong.
I don’t know what to do next. Do I head back to Garrett’s? Are Mateo and Ivy even still there? What am I supposed to say to them if they are? I move sluggishly toward the exit, then trudge back to Lechmere station on autopilot, scrolling through my phone. The last text message I have is from Lara agreeing to meet; there’s not a single person at Carlton High who got in touch to share the news about Boney. Who am I kidding? My so-called friends probably haven’t even noticed I’m not there.
When I insert my CharlieCard into the station turnstile and step through, there’s already a train waiting with open doors. I climb the train’s steps and scan the half-full compartment, selecting a window seat toward the front. Then I settle onto the hard plastic chair and gaze at the bright fall day outside, my mind churning and full of questions that seem impossible to answer.
“Hey, Cal.”
Somebody pokes my shoulder. I turn, and nearly slide off my seat in shock when I realize it’s Ivy. She and Mateo are sitting side by side behind me, and for a second I’m so happy to see friendly faces that it doesn’t occur to me to question why they’re here. Then Ivy speaks, and wipes the half smile that’s forming on my lips right off.
“So we followed you,” she says.
IVY
“You did what?” Cal sputters as the doors close and the train lurches forward. He twists fully in his seat, his gaze darting between me and Mateo. “Followed me where?”
“The café,” I say. “To your…meeting.” I wait a beat for him to respond, and when he doesn’t, I add, “With Ms. Jamison.”
Cal stares at the ground. “So you spied on me,” he says flatly.
I guiltily cut my eyes toward Mateo. That’s not all we did. Not even close, but now doesn’t seem like the time to bring that up. “We were worried about you,” I say.