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into letting Xander take all the cute girls, Herbie. He’s a nice boy, but he doesn’t lay golden eggs or anything. If you like a girl, then you go after her. Don’t let being friends with Fabian stop you.”
    “I won’t, Grandma . I promise,” I said, but I was really just placating her.
    We hit the bakeries , and then it was time to get Grandma off her feet and prop her up with some tea. I pulled out my cell phone and was about to text Xander when I caught sight of him out of the corner of my eye, leaning against the wall next to Jorhensen’s Apiary, chatting with—you guessed it—Violet Girl. She didn’t look happy about it. Not exactly unhappy either, just sort of intense. I must have been sending off some weird vibe while looking at her because she immediately turned her head to stare right at me. I felt like a total idiot, and I have no idea why. I mean, I was just standing there. I wasn’t making obscene gestures with my hands or anything. Xander cocked an eye in my direction, breaking out of his classic Marlon Brando slouch. Violet Girl took this opening to dash out of the building. I mean, she literally fled.
    “What was that all about?” I asked after he caught up with us.
    “Nothing.” Xander played it casual.
    “Well, what’s her name?”
    “It’s…” Xander thought about it, frowned, and then said, “You know, it’s weird, but I can’t remember.”
    This floored me. “You can’t remember a pretty girl’s name?”
    “No, it’s completely gone.” He thunked his head a few times trying to rattle the name loose.
    “That is weird. I thought rule number one was to always remember a girl’s name.”
    “That is rule number one,” Xander assured me. “But I guess I blew it this time.”
    After we’d perked Grandma up at the café and purchased our chocolates (Grandma splashed out on a full pound of assorted so Xander could enjoy a few), we headed for the car. Just as we were about to hit the exit, Xander pulled up short. “Oh, wait. I forgot something.”
    “What?”
    “It’s no big deal. I just need a minute,” he said. “I’ll meet you at the car.”
    “What?” I repeated.
    “It’s that Lydia girl at Sarducci’s,” he called over his shoulder as he trotted back into the fray. “I promised I’d bring her a soda.”

Chapter 4
     
    When we got back from the market, Xander helped us put the groceries away, which sent Grandma completely over the moon—again. She was going to make us lunch, but Xander said, “Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Lehmer. Why don’t you just relax? I’ll drive Sherbie to work, and we’ll grab a sandwich or something on the way.”
    Grandma and I only have the one car. It’s an ancient station wagon from the Neolithic period. The kind with the fake wood paneling and where the back bumper is usually held on with wire. Ours is in a little bit better shape than that, but still, it’s no beauty. Grandma doesn’t like to drive, but she doesn’t want me to take the car either in case she needs it to go somewhere, which is never. So I’m usually on the bus if I can’t manage to sponge a ride off of Xander or Rini.
    Aunt Agatha’s Pretzels is a crappy chain store that can be found in almost any mall in America. I hate chain stores and pretty much detest the mall, but I like being able to afford my cell phone and dial-up. And when I’m working with Rini, it’s not so bad. We crack jokes and generally have a good time. Xander doesn’t have a job, so if we’re both working, he’ll hang around in the food court, reading or surfing the net on his phone. Sometimes flocks of girls descend upon him, but he usually chases them off if one of us goes on break.
    “You’ve got fifteen,” Rini said, knocking salt off her hands and checking her watch.
    “Great,” I sighed, tugging off my apron and then snicking one of the reject pretzels. At Aunt Agatha’s, no malformed pretzels can be sold to the public. If there are any wonky ones, and there