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front of the store and stands in a short line at the one
    lonely check-out counter. Janie glances at the periodicals while she waits.
    Rides through a wave of hunger nausea. Loads her things onto the belt
    and watches the scanner anxiously as the number creeps upward.
    “Your total comes to fifty-two twelve.”
    Janie closes her eyes for a moment. “I"m sorry,” she says. “I have exactly fifty dollars. I need to put something back.”
    The checker sighs. The line behind Janie grows. She flushes and doesn"t
    look at any of them. Decides what"s necessary.
    Hesitantly picks out the cake mix and the frosting. Hands them to the checker. “Take these off, please,” she says quietly. It
    figures , she thinks.
    The checker makes like this is huge deal. Stomps on the buttons with her
    fingers.
    People thaw, drip, and shift on their feet behind Janie. She ignores them.
    Sweating profusely.
    “48.01,” the checker finally announces. She counts out the $1.99
    in
    change like it"s breaking her back to lift so many coins at once. Janie strings the pregnant bags over her arms, three on each side, and
    flees. Sucks in the cold fresh air. Pumps her arms once she reaches the
    road to get in her workout for the day, trying not to crush the eggs and
    bread. Her arms ache pleasantly at first. Then they just plain ache.
    After a quarter mile a car slows and comes to a stop in front of Janie. A
    man gets out. “Ms. Hannagan, isn"t it?” he says. It"s Happy. Also known
    as Mr. Durbin, her Chem. 2 teacher. “You need a ride? I was a few
    customers behind you in line.”
    “I"m…I"m okay. I like the walk,” she says.
    “You sure?” He flashes a skeptical smile. “How far are you going?”
    “Just, you know. Up the hill a ways.” Janie gestures with a nod of her
    head up the snowy road that disappears into the darkness beyond Mr.
    Durbin"s headlights. “It"s not that far.”
    “It"s really no trouble. Get in.” Mr. Durbin stands there, waiting, arm
    draped over the top of the open car door, like he won"t take no for an
    answer. Which makes Janie"s skin prickle. But…maybe she should take
    the chance to get to know Mr. Durbin a little better, for investigation
    purposes.
    “Well…” Janie"s starting to get shaky with hunger. “Thanks,” she says,
    opening the passenger-side door. He slips back inside the car and moves
    four or five plastic grocery bags to the backseat, and she gets in.
    “Straight ahead, right on Butternut. Sorry,” she adds. She"s not sure why.
    For the inconvenience, maybe.
    “Seriously, no problem. I live just across the viaduct on Sinclair,”
    he
    says. “It"s right on my way.” The blast of the car heater fills the silence.
    “So, how do you like the class? I was happy to see so many students.
    Ten is big for this one.”
    “I like it,” she says. It"s Janie"s favorite class, actually. But there"s no
    need for him to know that. “I like the small size,” she adds, after more
    silence, “because we each get our own lab station. In Chem. 1, we were
    always doubled up.”
    “Yep,” he says. “Did you have Mrs. Beecher for Chem. 1?”
    Janie nods. “Yeah.”
    Mr. Durbin pulls into the driveway when she points it out, and looks
    puzzled to see Janie"s car standing there, looking like it"s just been
    driven. There"s no snow built up on it, and steam rises off the hood. “So,
    you prefer to walk on a frigid night like this and lug all that junk home
    through the snow?” He laughs.
    She grins. “I wasn"t sure I"d have ol" Ethel back tonight. Looks like she"s here now.” She doesn"t explain further. He puts the car in park and
    opens his door. “Can I give you a hand?”
    The bags, once she got into the car, had slipped every which way, and
    are now a tangled mess. “You don"t need to do that, Mr. Durbin.”
    He hops out and hurries to her side of the car. “Please,” he says. He
    gathers three bags and scoots out of her way, then follows her to the
    door.
    Janie hesitates, knocking the