“You’re trouble.” Daniella’s voice was lower than she’d meant. There was a tremor in there that she hardly recognized.

Half a smile pulled at Eli’s mouth. “I know that, too.”

And who was to say what might have happened next, had the door to the break room not swung open as Brock Harvey walked in.

“Oh, excuse me,” Harvey said with one of those knowing almost-smiles that adults liked to make when they knew things even when it was none of their business. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

And it was like the poles on two magnets had been reversed. What had just pulled Daniella and Eli closer together now sent them propelling apart, across the room. There couldn’t be enough space between them anymore. Daniella needed a canyon between her body and his. No, a galaxy. Then maybe she’d feel safe around Eli again.

“You’re not interrupting,” said Daniella before Eli could interject. She was still a little breathless, but she told herself that was because she’d leaped across the room. “Eli here was leaving, weren’t you, Eli?”

For a moment, Daniella thought that Eli was going to protest, was going to claim that he needed to stay in the room because of Jo, because of something, anything. What a laugh—Eli trying to avoid trouble. Like he wasn’t drawn to it. Like it wasn’t his match in a perfect set of magnets. But instead he gave Daniella a steady look; he was looking for clues as to what state Daniella was in. Whatever he saw, he nodded.

“Yeah,” said Eli. “I’m going to go and find Jo.”

Daniella nodded as he walked off. Eli looked back over his shoulder once as he opened the door. But Daniella turned away from him. She took a deep breath and ignored the sound of the door closing behind him.

Good. Bye.

Except that’s when she heard the low chuckle from across the room. “You seem capable for a pretty thing. Do you know if they’ve got anything else on offer other than bargain cheese and crackers in this joint?”

When Daniella turned around, she saw Brock Harvey smirking, like he knew a secret that Daniella never wanted to be told.

16

They Stuck Me Together with Glue

12:37 P.M.

Imogen

Nobody was at the register. That was Imogen’s first thought. There was something about the sight of the store’s source of income being totally abandoned that left Imogen in a place beyond sadness. A place where longing met up with inevitability and landed smack-dab into an awful metaphor.

Imogen turned away, running her shoulder into someone who was passing by.

“Oh, excuse me,” said a girl who was about Imogen’s age. She had brown skin and full lips and mischief in her eyes. She flashed the kind of smile that made Imogen want to lean in and ask about the nature of God.