I sigh, straightening the corner of the bent envelope in my hand. “I have a date with June at four.”
Mrs. Rawlings checks the time on her gold watch. It’s three fifty. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She makes it sound so simple, like her husband didn’t hire me as an alternative to my going to jail.
“It’s no big deal,” I lie. “I just haven’t been given official hours with this job, so when we made plans, I assumed I’d be done by now because I’ve been for the past week.”
“Well, go!” She makes a shooing motion with her hand.
I shake my head. “No. I’ll finish this.”
“Flynn. Go! That’s an order.”
Is she mad?
“Seriously. I’m fine. I want to do this for you. I need this job.”
She kneels on the floor across from me, setting Loki free to roam around. “I needed this day. The movie. Loki. And now I need this,” she says, taking the cards from me.
“Need what?”
She pauses, looking up at me. “I need you to see where it goes. The nervous boy feigning confidence. The smitten girl playing hard to get.” Pulling in a long breath through her nose, she smiles. “It’s familiar. And I …” she closes her eyes for a second. “I justneedit,” she whispers.
“Well”—I check my phone—“I don’t know if she’ll wait for me. But I’ll try.”
“Run.”
I laugh while standing. “I didn’t wear running shoes, but I’ll do my best.”
“Flynn?” Mrs. Rawlings calls after I’m several feet down the hallway.
I turn.
“Manners. I promise no matter what happens, if you have manners, she’ll want another date. And you’ll know when it’s the right time to tell her about your past. Because youdohave to tell her.”
“Manners,” I repeat with a quick nod. “Past. Got it.”
It’s a big lake. I should have specified where we’d meet, so I text her.
Flynn: U here?
June: I was. But u were late. A girl has to have standards
“Shit.” I drop my head back and stare at the cloudy sky before closing my eyes. “I’m such a fuck-up,” I grumble.
“Words matter.”
I whip around in a half circle as June saunters toward me in denim shorts, a tight, black tank top, and white sneakers. Of course, I stare at her legs so long she calls me out with a knowing grin. But it’s not just her legs. The smile and the mischievous sparkle in her eyes is enough to render me speechless. I feel like the best version of myself when she looks at me. A version of myself that I’ve never seen, but often imagined.
“There are no two words more powerful thanI am. So remember, what you say after those two words matters.” She slides her hands into her pockets and starts walking along the path.
I guess we’re not holding hands.
“In that case,” I say, catching up to her. “I amsorry for getting here late. This new job of mine has unpredictable hours.”
“Ah, yes. I’m sure there is nothing predictable about the muse business. After all, inspiration is unpredictable.”
“I feel like you’re making fun of me or my job. Which is it? And are we going to walk around this whole lake?”
“This whole lake?” She giggles. “You mean like two? Three miles?”
