“And Spencer didn’t tell you exactly what was going on?” Mrs. Amberson asked.

“Just that they figured out a way in and out, that it will start at 10:02, and we should meet them afterward at the meeting place two blocks from here.”

More people came from the direction of the subway. Among them was a familiar figure, half hidden by a hoodie. But by now, Scarlett knew every inch of Max’s outline.

“It’s Max,” Mrs. Amberson said, as he came closer. “Really, O’Hara, you’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty with that one. I remember when you were reluctant to spy on him…”

“I don’t spy,” Scarlett said.

“Yes, of course. You know what I mean.”

They quieted as Max approached. Mrs. Amberson pulled out her phone and stepped off to the side to talk. Scarlett got the feeling she was just doing that to give them some room, which was disconcerting.

“You always post where you’re going to be,” he said. “Stop flirting with me.”

Before the kiss, that would have had a totally different meaning. It would have just been snide. Now, it had some real weight. Max seemed to catch on to this a moment too late, and his voice trailed off. Scarlett tried to come up with some kind of witty rebuttal, but finding nothing in her mind, decided to act like it had never been said.

“We just have to wait a few minutes,” she said. “Then it starts.”

“What’s it?” he asked.

Before Scarlett could explain, a black Mercedes pulled up to the curb next to them. It was a car Scarlett knew well.

“Oh crap,” she said.

Marlene got out first, followed quickly by Lola and her parents. Marlene’s finger was pointing at Scarlett even before she left the car. She walked right up to Scarlett and jabbed it in the direction of her face.

“Told you!” she said. “I told you!”

“Aren’t you at a show?” Scarlett’s mom asked.

“I…”

“You!” Marlene noticed Max standing there. “Are you guys, like, dating now?”

There was obvious disgust, and maybe a little bit of jealousy in her voice. Mrs. Amberson had turned around and seen what was going on. She quickly concluded her conversation and hurried over.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed. “We just this moment walked out of the show, and someone sent me a message saying that we had to get down here right away.”

Scarlett’s parents didn’t appear to think much of this story.

“So,” her mom said, “what is going on here?”

“Beats me,” Scarlett said. “We just saw the…you know…thing…and we…”

“Let’s try that again,” Scarlett’s dad said. “What is going on? If it involves Spencer, you know. In fact, this sort of looks like your handiwork. You’re the one who brought Hamlet home, right?”

“Me? I…”