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in the cars in the parking lot.
    "Don't worry about it." She waves a hand. "They'll find us. Trust me."
    "So confident!" I give her a nudge.
    "Not really. Just used to guys who drive Mommy's Porsche Cayenne and hold their cell numbers up at windows."
    "How do you know it's not his Porsche Cayenne? I mean, it's your Bentley."
    Rory shakes her head. "No, it's not. I bought Frank with my own money. The Bentley is SMD 's."
    "You know what I mean. Same thing."
    "It's not the same thing. It's not the same thing at all."
    At this one small mention of SMD , Rory seems to become instantly uptight again, so I change the subject. Standing outside the juice bar, I look at the large, fancy-script chalkboard hanging in the entrance. I read it out loud. "Organic, vegan, wheat-free, gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free, corn-free, salt-free, nut-free, yeast-free, and sulfate-free. Do you think if I asked for fruit-free as well, they'd give me a cup of water?"
    "That might have trace minerals or something. Maybe a cup of air. And you'd better request no ice, just to make sure."
    We're both cracking up when the guys walk in behind us. "Hey," the guy who was driving says. "How's it going? I'm Anders, and this is Will."
    * * *
    The juice is amazing, but as it turns out, that cup of air would have been more exciting than Will or Anders. Right from the moment we get our juices and sit down, all they seem to be interested in is getting Rory's number, or getting her to go on some kind of date with them. And they completely, utterly and totally ignore me. To the point that Rory introduces me and they barely even glance my way.
    "So, what are you up to tomorrow night?" Anders asks Rory as she finishes her juice (which she bolted, I might add). "We're having this party and—"
    "Sorry," Rory says. "We're headed to Las Vegas tomorrow morning."
    "Cool." Will nods like he's a high roller who slips off to Vegas all the time.
    "For work." Rory looks bored.
    "Right," he says. "Work. Cool."
    Rory makes like she's checking out something behind us and rolls her eyes so the guys can't see. It seems she's had more than enough. "We'd better head out. It's almost four. It was nice meeting you," she says flatly as she begins to stand up.
    Anders catches her arm.
    "Whoa!" She pauses and looks at his hand.
    He lets go instantly.
    "So, anyway, let's swap numbers before you go." He tries one last time.
    "That's okay," Rory says as I stand up beside her. "I'll just catch you around. You know, at the lights."
    "Yours then?" He turns to me as I snort at Rory's answer.
    So I'm alive now? I don't grace his question with a response. "Yeah, nice meeting you, too," I say as we both start for the door.
    Thankfully, they don't follow us. Rory pauses to say a few words to the owner as we leave, and then we keep going. "They're taking photos of us with their cells," Rory tells me as we're almost outside. "I can just tell. I mean, what for? To show their friends? Look! I got a photo of Rory Hartley's ass. Like anyone would want to see that!"
    "Um, hate to break it to you, but they would," I tell her.
    "Pffft," Rory says, looking down at her denim cut-offs. "Then they really need to get a life." Suddenly, she stops, right on the brink of turning the corner, when we'll be out of sight.
    "What's up?" I say, stopping as well.
    She shrugs. "What do they say? Let's give them something to talk about." She reaches over and pulls my cap off with one hand, pulling her own off with the other hand at the same time. Both sets of blonde, curly locks come spilling down at the same moment. And, in the background, there's a distinct scrabbling and the voices of Will and Anders.
    "Hey, check it out! That's not her friend. That's a Hartley!" one of them says. Anders, I think. "She's that other one. You know, whatsherface's kid."
    * * *
    "Whatsherface's kid." Rory is still cracking up as she turns the key over in the ignition. "Like your mom's so forgettable! Whatsherface. Sorry they were such