But dragging heavy equipment and fishing tourists out of the water while keeping afloat requires a certain amount of stamina. I’m training to do search and rescue as a career, so this is excellent preparation, but Duke? He does this for pure fun, and it shows in every fiber of his being. He carries himself like a newborn foal, all knees and elbows strung together with rubber bands, covered in a well-worn layer of North Face and dipped in neon. Every summer for the last three, Duke’s dyed his hair some varying shades of “highlighter,” claiming it’s so the tourists can spot him easily. I’m sure that’s true, but also, it annoys his dad to no end.

I back up to allow the tour group into the store and pull out some clipboards we have sitting behind the checkout. I hand a couple off to Duke, and we disperse them through the group.

The on-the-spot surveys were another James idea. They allow customers the opportunity to share their complaints immediately, rather than fester so they jump on Yelp to one-star us on the way home. It’s not foolproof, but they can keep it anonymous, and we hand out free cone coupons for Frosty Snacks as incentive. There is nothing better after a long, hot afternoon of sweating than free ice cream.

Five minutes later, they’re out the door, two pausing to glance at my display and purchase NMU merch on their way. The pair of teenage girls leaves, but after thirty seconds, one returns, slightly out of breath. She slides a small slip of paper toward Duke, who takes it with an easy grin. She waves shyly over her shoulder, and he immediately taps the number into his phone as the door closes behind her with a jangle.

I shake my head, riffling through the pile of surveys to pull the one I can only presume was hers.

“Cate with a C?” I ask.

“The best kind of Cate,” he says.

“She in high school?”

“College. Incoming freshman.”

Ah. That’s lucky. Not a tourist, then.

Duke takes a swig from his Nalgene, wiping his mouth and letting out a long breath. “New display?”

“Yeah, Dani asked me to work my magic.”

“And you can’t turn Dani down.”

“No one can.”

“It would be like chastising a kitten.”

“Or Noel.”

Duke leans over his elbows on the counter, smudging the glass.

“You can go home,” I say.

He squints one eye, scratching at his turquoise hair and letting it drop back across his forehead like a Nike swoosh. I can feel his hesitation, and my temper spikes.

“God. Please go.”

He glances at the clock. “I have a few minutes. Cate with a C just left. Don’t want to look like I’m following her.”

“Stop.”

He straightens with a pained look. “But last time, you said—”