In the middle of the summer, she’d been on a run, working the wooded path that wound around the neighborhood, her feet striking the pavement in tempo with her thoughts, when a black Labrador had shot out of the woods from her right, nearly scaring her out of her Brooks trail-running shoes. She’d managed to skid to a stop when the dog had leapt up onto her chest, licking her furiously on the chin, before its owner had emerged from the woods.

“Percy! Percy! Get off her!” a boy with longish black hair that hung above his eyes shouted. He had kind features, a nice smile, and was only slightly taller than Sam. He wore a Scoops Ahoy T-shirt and khaki shorts that covered his lean athletic frame, which set Sam, a religious Stranger Things fan, at ease.

“Percy?” Sam asked, the big dog now held up by her arms. “As in Weasley or Jackson?” she said, referring to the J. K. Rowling series and Rick Riordan series. “And please don’t tell me your name’s Steve,” she added for good measure. Let’s see how he responds. Sam had a way of testing other people when she met them. It was an automatic response that allowed her to categorize people as friend, potential foe, or acquaintance.

The boy studied her for a moment, as if assessing whether she was making fun of him or asking honestly. His blue eyes danced in the shadows of the woods, and he said, “Riordan, of course. Don’t get me wrong. I love the Harry Potter books, but I was always more into mythology than wizardry. But that’s just me.”

Sam studied him for a moment before replying, scratching the grinning Percy behind the ears as he tried to lick her face. Maybe it was the heat, her quickened pulse, the affection of the dog, or some other unknown variable, but she was attracted to the boy, strongly.

“I agree. And I can’t remember which one it was, but Harry was a bit of a whiner in it, while Percy has a much better sense of humor, which I prefer.”

Before he could control himself, the boy had blurted out, “My name’s Ben, and I’m pretty funny too.”

Sam had seen the terror in his eyes as he’d said the words. She imagined his angst and smiled. Rather than repelling her, his awkwardness had the opposite effect: charming and disarming. In the moment, she was a girl on a run, and he was a boy with a dog, and all felt right with the world.

“Well, Ben, I’m Sam, and I know I’m hilarious. So that makes two of us.” She looked at Percy, pools of brown staring up at her in unconditional adoration. “And I’ll bet Percy is too, aren’t you, boy?”