“Okay,” I said, not entirely convinced, but I was ready for her to leave. When she did, I went back to waiting in the office with the extreme air-conditioning torture treatment.

It was nothing compared to the torture waiting for me in Mom’s Jeep Cherokee. She shot me a look of disappointment as I opened the door. But all I could think about was the picture of her with that married man. So as I slid into my seat, I shot her one right back.

I waited until we were pulling out of the school before I said, “By the way, on Saturday we are having dinner with Doc Ramsey.”

“We’re what?” The Jeep jerked onto the narrow shoulder as she whipped her head around.

“Watch the road, Mom, you don’t want to have a wreck.”

In my room, while being “grounded,” I pulled out Kori’s boxes. I tugged on a pair of her jeans. Spritzed myself with the scent of cherry blossoms. Slicked on her burgundy lipstick. As I was slipping one of Kori’s old-school concert shirts over her lacy black bra, I heard Mom leave to go to Colorado Cares.

“About freakin’ time,” I muttered.

When I got to Mr. Miller’s, Shay was half-naked and turning small piles of manure into larger piles.

It was no wonder Kori spent her last hours with him. He was a hottie of the hottest order. Eyes the color of a well-worn, absolute-most-favorite pair of Levi’s. Hair too short to look properly disheveled; instead the dark spikes played in an arrangement of devil horns and little angel wings.

Gotta love a guy with morally perplexed hair.

I could only imagine how much work his conscience got.

As I got closer, I could see he wasn’t a fan of the latest Five-No!-SIX! blade razors; the stubble on his boxy jaw looked at least a day old, and not that silly high school boy-fuzz, either.

With each lift of the pitchfork, he repeated the affirmation, “I am not shoveling shit.”

I started to laugh, and had to gulp it back down when his body flinched and he turned to stare at me.

I’d forgotten he might not be happy to see me.

Before I ran off, a smile lit his face. His eyes had this sparkle to them, like the reservoir has with a full moon and a nice breeze. Then they stilled in their dance, focusing on details that had him holding his breath.

Flattery like that was a heady thing. It’s funny how insecure you can get when people look at you too often and for too long. I don’t think it’s all that different from when no one looks at you at all.

When I got close enough, his eyes met mine. Whatever he thought he saw in me fluttered away and disappeared.

He wasn’t seeing me; he was seeing Kori.