When he had fallen asleep around 4a.m., his thoughts were a blurry mix of elves and giants (including, near the end of the book, a baby one), of dragons and warlocks, and of Merritt... so much Merritt.
Now he drove like a maniac in the blue jeep, desperate to drop Annie off and hustle over to the bookshop to tell Merritt he had loved it. He could have called her, but he had to see her face to face, to tell her about how wonderful this thing they made had turned out to be. More than that, he had to tell her she had beenright and he had been wrong. Screw the deadline, forget the journals. They had to do this.
“I love you, Annie,” he called as she walked into the school. “More than ice cream.”
Annie waved in a you’re-embarrassing-me way, but she grinned.
Whit was grinning, too. He made it from the school to Goodenough Books in record time and opened the door with such gusto that he worried the bell overhead might swing off its hinge.
“Whoa,” said Huong, whom Whit did not actually know but whom Merritt had sometimes talked about. Today she wore a blue Dickies jumpsuit and oversized hoop earrings. She stared at him from behind the counter.
“Hi. Is Merritt here?”
Huong looked at him coldly and crossed her arms.
What had Merritt told her about him?
“No,” she said.
“Doesn’t she work in the mornings?”
“Usually,” the woman said, her voice flat and uninterested.
“But today...”
Huong shrugged. “Not here.”
“Okay,” he said. “You’ve been very helpful, thank you.”
She gave him a sarcastic smile and turned her eyes to the computer.
On the sidewalk outside the store, Whit pulled out his phone and texted Merritt. He waited thirty seconds for a reply before calling, but his call went straight to voicemail.
She’s ignoring me, he thought.Or worse—she blocked me.
He had to talk to her, though. Had to.
He thought, pacing the space outside the bookstore door.
Why wouldn’t Merritt be at work? Where else could she be?
He stopped abruptly, snapping his fingers.
Of course, he realized. She was back where this all began.
“So you’re telling me,” Whit said to Wet-Looking Curly Hair Woman, “that Mrs. Pryor is here today? Merritt isn’t subbing for her?”
“Sorry, who’s Merritt again?”
“Her daughter,” Woman with the Extensive Neck Scarf Collection said. She looked intrigued. “You know,” she explained, “she subbed when Kathleen was out on medical leave last semester. Cute girl, green glasses.”
“Oh,” Wet-Looking Curly Hair said, nodding eagerly. “Yup. A pretty girl, isn’t she, Mr.Longacre?”
Whit nearly groaned. From Goodenough Books, he had driven back to the Foothills School, speeding once again and going so far as to cut through the parking lot of an under-construction building to beat the wait at a red light.
“Can Ipleasehave a visitor pass?”
“What?” the ladies said together, confused.
