ZANDER:Do you need help studying for your trig test this weekend?
BRITT:I’m in big trouble in that class, but I don’t want you to spend your weekend explaining trigonometry to me.
ZANDER:Who else do you know who can explain trigonometry to you?
BRITT:Good point.
ZANDER:I’ll come over to your house tonight, and we’ll get started.
BRITT:I’ll make you apple pie as payment.
Note passed from Hannah to Britt in eleventh grade:
HANNAH:Did you notice how Olivia followed Zander around at the party Friday? I think she might be into him. They’d look amazing together with their black hair and blue eyes.
BRITT:Totally! I really love Olivia. But I don’t think her personality is quite right for Zander. They’re not a fit.
Letter slipped under Mr. Finch’s door by Britt in eleventh grade:
Mr. Finch,
I’m so glad you coach the boys’ soccer team. You’re really good at it! Great job!
I only have one piece of constructive criticism. You don’t play Zander Ford enough. He’s super talented, and I sincerely believe that he could score a lot of goals and help your team to a winning record if he didn’t spend so much of the game on the bench.
Thanks for your consideration. Go Panthers!
—A concerned fan
Chapter
twenty
The next morning Zander drove past the employee lot behind The Giftery, confirmed that Carolyn’s car was parked there, then continued to Frank and Carolyn’s house. He let himself inside with the key that Frank had given him the day he’d moved in.
He found Frank’s phone charging on the desk in the home office.
Aurora padded into the room, her tail wagging and her homely dog face smiling.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He scratched her chin and then, when she rolled onto her back, obliged her by scratching her belly.
Sitting on the desk chair, he picked up the cell phone. Aurora pawed his pant leg. He ignored her. More insistent pawing.
“Come on up, then.” Since Aurora had the vertical jump of an elephant, he lifted her dead weight onto his lap.
Immediately, she rested her chin on the crook of his elbow and closed her eyes.
He brought Frank’s phone to life, then slowly tested his newest passcode theory.
Five. Six. Eight. Three.
With swift obedience, the phone unlocked.
Zander stared at it in astonishment.
No way.
LOVE had been Frank’s passcode.
