Whenever this thought nipped at her, she located that feeling she’d had since seeing herself on the security camera, the glue and the grip of it. It lived behind her eyes. She turned it up and pointed it at loved ones and strangers alike. Use it or lose it, BK Liddell! He made them scream back Yes, Coach Marshall! when he hollered out his encouragements like drill orders and laughed into his whistle as they ran or jumped or did sit-ups or shot baskets.

In line with Ada at the doughnut shop, Carly watched the cashier scramble through order after order, and the girl with the black headset and cool nose ring running the drive-through, and the couple bristling at each other at the only table she could see without being too obvious about it. She chewed over their gestures and postures, trying to glimpse everything more in their movements, everything she knew was there in every moment. The fishing was good today, and every day that she remembered to try. So many little things she could catch that were always happening everywhere.

The lady in front of her turned around and put her hand on Carly’s arm. In the past two weeks, there had been other people like that. Carly told her friends they were freaky, but in truth the touchy ones were usually nice.

“You don’t know me. My daughter goes to your school. She’s over there at the table. She’s in the seventh grade, so you probably don’t know her. Anyway, you’re wonderful.” And then to the cashier: “And I’ll pay for whatever she’s getting.”

The lady smiled back to Carly, and Carly looked at Ada, drop-jawed at her side.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize the two of you were here together. Of course, you, too,” the lady said to Ada. “Both of you get something. My treat.”

Carly paid more in thank-yous and blushing than she would have in money for the sweet coffees and sprinkled doughnuts. She and Ada walked back through the crush of people, their eyes on the goal of the last two swivel stools at the window. The line was from the counter to the door, packed with Friday-charged students and a few adults.

A boy from her class stepped clear of a knot of other kids in the middle of the line. His name was Dylan and Carly had hated him since the third grade. Dread pulled down on her stomach, even as her heart sped up to pounding. Dylan had his phone pointed toward her, tracking her, recording.

“Oh, look! It’s the famous Carly, gettin’ free eats. Maybe we can catch her doing something awe-some. C’mon, Carly, do something awe-some.”