Page 51 of Within These County Lines

He tugs at the fabric. “I got this from school. It’s vintage, baby.”

“You were in mathletes?” I tilt my head to the side. “I was too. I thought you weren’t smart?”

He laughs. “I wasn’t an idiot. I just wasn’t at the top of my class. I was more like Cady Heron from Mean Girls. Cool, but still capable of solving for x and y.”

I smirk. “You know Mean Girls?”

“Stetson, do I need to remind you that I’m not dead? I still experience life.” He sips his milkshake. “Which clique were you a part of at school?”

I shrug. “We didn’t really have cliques. There were only seventy people in my class. Everyone did sports. Everyone did theater. We were all Cady Heron.”

He chokes on his shake. “Seventy people?” He wipes his mouth. “Wow. I read about Penango’s population decline but didn’t realize it was that bad. There were almost two hundred kids in my class.”

“It was even worse before we merged with Hancock Valley High.” I swirl my straw in my drink. “That’s how I met Murray. He transferred in sophomore year.”

The waitress appears at our table, her pen aimed at me like a weapon. “How did you get that shake?” Her voice is tight with suspicion. “Were you just in the kitchen? You can’t go back there.”

“I . . . um.” My mouth goes dry.

“Tell her to look over there,” Xander murmurs.

“What?”

“Just do it.”

I gulp and point toward a framed photo on the other side of the diner. It captures Penango’s Main Street in the early 1900s. “Wait, what’s that over there?” I ask.

She scowls but glances over her shoulder. “What’s what?” she asks.

In the split second that she’s distracted, Xander snatches my milkshake.

I furrow my brow. What the hell is he doing?

When the waitress turns back, her face drains of color. “Wait—where did it go?” She blinks at the table. I still see the milkshake, but it must be gone for her now. “I swear there was just a strawberry milkshake sitting right here.”

I press my lips together, struggling to hold back a laugh. Across from me, Xander grins, barely containing his own amusement.

“See? Just trust me,” he whispers.

I clear my throat and morph my face into something resembling innocence. “I’m sorry,” I tell the waitress, looking up at her with wide eyes. “I don’t know what shake you’re talking about. But a strawberry milkshake does sound nice. Could I order one?”

She studies me, then looks under the table for a final check. “Yes.” She straightens. “But if I see that other shake, this will be the last one you get all summer.”

I nod.

With a huff, she pushes through the red swinging doors into the kitchen.

Xander bursts into laughter once she’s gone and slides my shake back across the table.

“How did you do that?” I ask, my pulse still racing.

“Turns out everything I touch goes invisible too. I guess that’ll come in handy with you.” He tilts his head to think. “My invisibility was depressing before, but now that I can interact with the real world, it’s almost like a superpower.”

“Everything?” I press.

“As long as it’s not rooted to the ground . . . or a person. There are exceptions.” He tosses the ketchup bottle between his hands. “I’ve been testing it since I met you. You just haven’t noticed. No one usually does.”

“What do you mean?”