“So,” Teddy interjects.
“Right, yeah.” I stand up straight and press the napkin to my own damp forehead. “No table. We’re not ordering any food. I don’t think, anyway.” When Teddy looks confused, I soldier on. It was just like Will not to care how completely embarrassing and out of my comfort zone this whole interaction might be. “My boyfriend came up with this scavenger-hunt thingy.” I think I see Teddy’s smile falter for a split second. “For my birthday. I think this is one of the spots, but I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do here.”
“You’re supposed to bring back a ball,” Matt says. “Her name is Lake. Lake Devereaux.”
Teddy raises an eyebrow. “So, you must be the famous Lake, then.”
“That’s me. Well, except for the famous bit. I’m the nonfamous Lake Devereaux. Hope that’s okay.”
“She’s just being modest. This little lady has completed the eleventh grade,” Matt says in the slowest and most condescending tone possible.
“Boyfriend, you said?” Teddy tilts his chin away from me and studies me out of the corner of his eye.
“Um, yeah, that’s what I said.” There’s a pause. “Why? Is something wrong?”
Teddy blinks and shakes his head. “No. Sorry. He just came in with someone.”
“Hippie looking? Lots of jewelry? Offbeat clothes?” I say.
He cocks his head. “No, I don’t think so,” he says. “I think I would have remembered that. Anyway, I just thought—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.” My heartbeat quickens because it doesn’t sound like Penny, which means it might have been someone else. Another girl. But we didn’t hang out with any other girls. Teddy nods abruptly and spins on his heel. “Right. I’ll, uh, be right back.” And he vanishes in the same direction that Antonio has.
I tap my foot on the carpeted floor, and since I don’t want to think about the someone that Will came in with, I decide to snap at Matt instead. “Do you have to be such an ass to everyone?”
“Oh, the eleventh-grade comment? I’m sorry. I just thought the twentysomething bus boy should slurp up his drool given that, I don’t know, you’re still in high school.”
“He wasn’t drooling.”
“Please, Lake. You know what effect you have on people,” Matt mutters and glances away. “Your friends. School. Everything’s so easy for you. I mean, I’m your brother and all and trust me, the whole thing makes me want to vomit, then aspirate my vomit so that I can vomit again, but even I know, the pretty thing…it works for you.”
I grind my teeth together and cross my arms. “You’re an idiot” is all I can muster.
Because I know I’m pretty. I have known since the first moment I walked into St. Theresa’s and met Harrison and Peng. But to imply that I have friends because of the way I look is ridiculous. Hurtful, even.
Unbidden, though, and despite my best efforts to ignore every sign pointing me back to it, Will’s secret posts echo through my mind: Well, when you said it, did the ugly parts show through? And it’s as though someone has socked me in the stomach with a baseball bat. Again.
Maybe that’s why I’m confused when Teddy reappears holding out a Styrofoam takeout container. “What’s this?” I ask. Or it could just be the fact that Teddy is holding out a Styrofoam takeout container, since that in itself is pretty weird, considering I didn’t order anything.
“A meatball for the lady.” Teddy grins, but his grin folds when he notices Matt staring hard at him again. Teddy shifts his weight on his feet. Lady and the Tramp. I was right. The two dogs have a fancy dinner and nudge the meatball to each other between their noses. It’s oddly touching, even for someone like me who doesn’t like dogs.
Will, of course, adored dogs. Then again, he didn’t have a scar on his hand from where one had bit him, so that made it easier.
“And this.” He hands me an envelope. On it, Will’s handwriting spells out my name, and then underneath it: Clue 2. Seeing Will’s writing after his death feels eerie. I can’t stop staring at it. I consider asking for more information about the someone with whom Teddy saw Will. Could it still have been Penny, just in less free-spirited clothes? But instead I gingerly pick up the envelope and press it to me.
Teddy offers us a close-lipped grin and then takes his leave.
“Right, well.” I suck in a breath. “I guess I’ll pull the car around so that we can cause another traffic jam.”
“You’re not going to read it?” Matt asks.
“Not right here.” I stuff the envelope in my back pocket. I feel too exposed here. Maybe it’s the idea that perhaps Teddy had been checking me out after all that makes me uneasy. I don’t know. Will hasn’t been gone a week.
God, this is all so confusing.
I notice that Matt’s stare could burn an ant alive.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not backing out of my promise. I’ll read you the clue and you can come with me on the next one. I didn’t leave you out on the sidewalk or in the car, did I?”
“So you haven’t escalated to the level of abusing cripples. Whoop-dee-doo.” But even with his head tilted down, I can see the faintest smile threatening to peel open the seams on his perpetual scowl. “Hurry back.”
I do. I speed walk to the van, my hands trembling slightly as I work to jab the key into the ignition. The clue in my pocket feels like a bomb waiting to go off. Another stop. Another memory. The same Will? I don’t want everything to change. But since the accident it’s as though I can feel the ground gradually shifting underneath me. One way or another, things are going to.
I pull the van around the corner close to the curb and turn on the hazards. To my surprise, when I return, Matt is actually talking to the hostess.
“A total shoo-in.” His eyes twinkle up at her. “You know, I don’t get out much, but as far as I’m concerned, I bet they’d put your face on the cover.”
“There’s a cover?” She kneels down so that she can be on the same level as Matt.
“Of course. Hair, makeup, wardrobe, the whole works. I bet they even let you keep the clothes. Is that a thing girls care about?”
“Um, yeah!” She claps her hands. “Are you kidding me?”
“A-hem.” I scoot closer. I raise my eyebrows at Matt, who swallows a grin and slides his glance sideways toward the door. I smile and thank the hostess, and I get the sense that she feels very proud for having entertained the boy in the wheelchair while he waited.
I lean close to his ear as I push the chair out of the restaurant. “What, is there some kind of moratorium on relentlessly mocking that you’re observing, or were you just that enamored with Miss Taterelli’s over there?”
“Oh no,” Matt whispers back. “No moratorium. It’s not my fault she actually believes that there’s a contest for the most interesting food service employee and that she should enter it. She asked where to find an application.”