“You’re welcome.” I say awkwardly, and turn my head so my honey-blonde hair falls in front of my flushing face. “And you can repay me by calling me Lara instead of Miss Austin.” I say. 

“Right. Times have changed.” He says, and brushes my hair behind my ear. I turn to face him, and bite my lip. Everly calls Jack home for dinner, and he stands up abruptly. “Goodbye, Lara.” I smile, and watch as he walks back to his house. 

“And she wouldn’t even let me kiss her. Doesn’t the idiot girl know I was trying to help her? She’s going to be the only girl in school without a boyfriend? She’s lucky I decided to be nice to her.” I hear a familiar annoying voice say. I leave my books on the lunch table next to Tessa, and walk up to Cal’s group of friends. 

“I’ll thank you to not talk behind my back, Cal.” I say, my hands on my hips. Cal turns around to face me, smiling. A lit cigarette sits between his fingers, but none of the teachers seem to want to enforce the rules.

“How did you even hear that?” He asks. I get my sarcastic voice ready. 

“Well, you see, I have these things called ears, and they enable me to hear nearby conversations!” I say with a smile, then point to his own ears. “And look! You’ve got them too, so listen to this:” I switch to my serious voice. “I don’t need your pity, you arrogant piece of scum. And neither does any other girl.” Carl’s face hardens. “And if you can’t say something to someone’s face, then you’re a coward.” I smile as I see people gathering around us in my periphery. I want everyone to hear this. “That’s what you are, Cal Wilson. A coward. A stinking, idiotic coward.” I hear muttering from around me, and people laughing at Cal. I fold my arms and watch Cal, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed at me. 

“Oh, she got you good, Cal.” Someone says, and Cal finally loses it. He grabs one of the straps of my yellow dress, and pulls me out of the circle and behind the school. 

“Nobody humiliates me and gets away with it.” He says, pulling me along. The cigarette in his hand burns my shoulder, and I wince. Cal throws me down, tearing the strap of the dress off. He kneels next to my shaking form.

“You’re scared now, sweetheart.” He taunts, and picks me up by the other strap on my dress, tearing it off also. He pins me against the rough red bricks, and smiles. He puts the cigarette in his mouth, then blows all the smoke out in my face. I cough, choking on it, and continue to try and push him away. Cal offers me the cigarette, and I take it from him, throwing it in a murky puddle. It makes a delightful sizzling noise. Cal looks back at me with narrowed eyes, and kisses me, not in the gentle way he did before, but a demanding, insistent way that hurts. His breath tastes like smoke. It’s disgusting. 

“Hey!” Jack says, entering the alley. Cal pulls away from me and scoffs. 

“It’s that idiot that lives across from you, sweetie.” Cal says, smiling. He turns to Jack. “How do you not know what a television is?” Jack ignores his question and walks closer. I try and push Cal away again, but he pins my arms at their sides. He turns back to look at me, and pulls out his pocketknife, the kind all boys carry, young and old. I flinch as he opens the blade, but instead of murdering me, he reaches behind my head and cuts my hair short. I gasp and reach behind me, hoping this is all just a dream. Silky strands of blonde fall down into the murky puddle below, then get blurred by my tears. 

“Oh, look, she’s crying.” Cal says with a mock pout on his face. “Well, now that you’ve lost your one good feature, you’re nothing, sweetheart.” 

Cal closes his pocketknife and leaves, dropping me in the dirt. Jack runs to my side, and offers his handkerchief to me. I fold my arms tightly around me, and I don’t want to move them. They’re my protection. Jack instead wipes the tears away himself, then tucks the handkerchief away. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, helping me sit up. I shake my head and sit on a pile of shingles. “Why are you holding your arms like that?” I flush. 

“It’s the only thing holding my dress up.” I mumble. “He tore the straps off.” Jack’s mouth turns into the shape of an O, and he goes to search for the straps silently. When he returns, he pulls a little matchbox from his pocket, but instead of tiny wooden matches, it contains a shiny sewing needle and some thread. Jack kneels in the puddle, the knees of his pants getting wet, and starts sewing them on. His warm hands brush the skin on my collarbone, and I flinch. 

“Sorry if I pricked you. I know I’m clumsy.” He says, stitching the strap into place. 

“No, it’s not that.” I say, blushing. Jack continues to sew on the straps until my dress is repaired. “Thank you so much.” I say, standing up. “Is there anything in that little matchbox that could fix my hair?” Jack smiles and shakes his head. He searches his pockets and pulls out a purple stained popsicle stick. 

“I’ve got a magic wand.” He says, waving it in the air. I snort.

“Is that the popsicle stick you had the day you died?” I ask. He nods. “Wow. That’s like a relic of history from this town. It’s so cool.” Jack smiles at me. “Sorry. I’m a ghost story nerd.” 

“It’s okay.” He says, tucking the popsicle stick back in his pocket. He reaches for the matchbox, and pulls out a little black ribbon from it. He ties it around my head, and fluffs what’s left of my golden curls. “It looks good.” He says, then notices the cigarette burn on my arm. “That looks pretty bad.” He says, pointing to it. 

“It’s fine. I’ll just clean it when I get home.” I trip over the curb on the way back to the school, and get my shoes muddy. “Great. Just great.” I say, and scrape the mud off against a brick. 

“Do you need to go home for the day?” Jack asks. I lean against the brick wall, and nod, my head aching. “I’ll tell your sister, and get your things.”

“Thank you.” I say, and sit down, rubbing my eyes. 

“Lara!” Tessa screams, running over to me a few seconds later. “Are you okay?” She asks, breaking my ribs in a hug. 

“I’m fine.” I say, and lift my head. 

“Oh my gosh, your hair!” Tessa screams. “It looks so good! There’s no way you can’t get a boyfriend now!” I make eye contact with Jack, and roll my eyes. Tessa is still admiring my hair, so she doesn’t notice. “I never thought long hair suited you anyway.” She says, laughing happily. I wince and rub my eyes again. 

“She has a headache.” Jack says. “I can take her home, if that’s okay.” Tessa nods. 

“Here are her books.” She says, tipping them into his arms. “Mom’s at work, so the back door is the only unlocked door.” She says. “But if that’s locked, the key is in the hydrangea plant. And our room is up the stairs and on the right. The first door on the right, because the second door is a closet.”

“Okay.” Jack says, and helps me to his feet with his free hand. I walk next to him silently, squeezing the folds of my dress, so much that my knuckles are probably white. “Is your father dead?” He asks, as we’re halfway there. 

“What?” I ask, finally turning to face him. 

“Well, I know times have changed a little, but I’ve gathered that the husbands are usually the ones who go to work, not the wives.” I duck my head down, but my usual protective curtain of hair is missing. Darn that Cal Wilson! “And I heard Tessa say your mother was at work, so I assumed-“

“He’s not dead.” I interrupt. “At least I don’t think he is. Maybe if we heard from him once in a while, I’d know for sure!” I throw my hands up in the air and walk further ahead. 

“I’m sorry. It’s not my business.” Jack says, opening the backyard gate for me. “I’m not good at this.”

“It’s fine. You’re just curious. No harm in that.” I jiggle the back doorknob, and sigh. I reach under the leaves of the old hydrangeas, and pull out the little rusty key, and unlock the door. “I could make some lemonade, if you want to stay.”