“You scared him,” Glenn says hotly. The sun catches in Tully’s hair like firecrackers. Her eyes narrow. “Seems as though you don’t bully Cassie. I know you don’t bully me. But you bully Lucas and Lorne, and Gary Sanger.”

Bully? Excuse me. All I do is hassle kids to have a bit of fun, or to blow off steam. And why didn’t she add Glenn to the list?

Duh. Because he hasn’t told her. “I never pick on girls,” I say. “I have my standards.”

Glenn says, “I overheard your father reaming out the receptionist when my dad was pricing a new car. Humiliating her in front of—“

“Shut up!” I shove him hard in the chest.

He staggers and bangs into the wall, dropping the ladder.

“Do that again,” he says, “I dare you!”

Taking a fistful of his T-shirt, I haul him toward me. Tully drops her end of the ladder and tugs at my elbow. He kicks me in the shin. When I kick him back, her ankle gets in the way.

“Ouch!” she cries.

“Tully,” Rolf calls, “you seen the other scraper?”

My breath escapes in a whoosh. I unclench my fist, leaving a little bundle of creases in Glenn’s shirt. I’d have smucked him without a thought for the consequences. No job. No $100.

You’d have lost more than that.

My shin hurts where Glenn’s sneaker hit bone.

Rolf comes around the corner. “Problem here?”

“No,” says Glenn.

I wait for Tully to tell on me.

She’s frowning at Glenn. Guess she was waiting for him to do the same thing. “No,” she says. As she steps back, bumping into the ladder, it scrapes against a rock.

“Easy,” Rolf says, “ladders don’t grow on trees.”

“Specially metal ones,” Tully says, flashing him a smile. He smiles back and ruffles her hair. “I left the scraper beside the paint can,” she says, “I’ll show you.” As she leads him off to the garage, I try to imagine Rolf’s smile on Floyd’s face.

I don’t understand why Tully is keeping her mouth shut. What’s in it for her? She never struck me as the devious type.

Glenn smoothes the creases in his T-shirt. I could clock him right now and who’d know? But my limbs feel like lead and I’ve got no heart for it.

“What are you here for?” I say.

“Tully asked if I’d help Rolf with the painting. It’s supposed to rain in a couple of days, and he wants to get the whole house finished beforehand.”

“Why do you hang out with Tully? She’s such a loser.”

“I like her! We’re friends.”

“You must be her only friend in Hilchey Bay.”

“That makes the rest of you losers,” Glenn says, flicking out a fist.

Floyd could teach him a thing or two about punching. “Why aren’t you scared of me?”