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Chelsea was the smart one; Lulu was the pretty one. Chelsea was the careful one; Lulu was the wild one. Chelsea was conscientious and hardworking; Lulu skated by. These were their roles, and they both knew them well, especially when they were together. Usually, their friendship was an easy balancing act. Lulu tempted Chelsea to be a little bad; Chelsea pulled Lulu back from the edge. But lately, Lulu was going places that Chelsea didn’t always feel comfortable following.
    Chelsea did think about calling her mother. She had that feeling, which Kate always encouraged her to honor. If you feel nervous, if something doesn’t feel good or right, your instincts are telling you something. Make sure you listen .
    Chelsea snatched the phone back from Lulu, who gave her a wide smile. But the truth was, Chelsea didn’t want to go. She did want to see Adam McKee in the flesh. And she didn’t want him to see Lulu first.
    “I’m hungry,” said Chelsea. She stuffed the phone in her bag and looked at her friend.
    Lulu stood up and wrapped her arms around Chelsea. She smelled of strawberries and cigarettes. “You love me,” said Lulu.
    “I do,” said Chelsea. She gave Lulu a quick squeeze and released her.
    They walked toward the food court. Chelsea told herself that she had posted about their mall visit, anyway. As soon as Lulu had accepted Adam’s request, he’d have been able to see that was where she was going. Besides, what were the chances that he wasn’t who he said he was? And if he was, what were the chances that he’d actually come? Brighton wasn’t far, but it wasn’t close, either.
    “Don’t worry, Chaz.” That was Lulu’s annoying nickname for Chelsea. “First serial killer we see? We’re so out of there.”
    “Very funny,” said Chelsea. She made this kind of mock-snorting laugh that they’d done since they were kids. “Really. You’re a riot.”
    Lulu took Chelsea’s hand and held it tight. Lulu had always been physical with Chelsea, very affectionate. Chelsea loved that about her friend. Lulu had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world. There was a group of boys hanging out by the surf shop. Chelsea noticed that they all turned to look at Lulu. Lulu passed them by without a second glance.

    D ean Freeman watched the bus pull away, knowing that Emily was on it, that he had let her down again. Something about the way it lumbered off, spewing black smoke from its tailpipe, merging into traffic, made him ache. He didn’t want Emily riding the bus. She deserved so much better. He was going to be the one to make sure she got it sooner or later.
    He went inside the restaurant anyway. Carol looked up at him from the register as the little bell over the door announced his entry.
    He didn’t like the way she looked at him, as though he had done something wrong or was about to. It was the look of teachers and principals, truant officers, cops. Like they knew you, like they could see right through every lie you hadn’t even thought of yet. Like they knew it all. People had been looking at Dean Freeman like that all his life. He couldn’t wait for the day when he proved to them all that they didn’t know shit about him, couldn’t begin to guess who he was or what he had in him.
    “Hey, Carol,” he said. He put on his sweet face, the one he used for Emily’s mom, potential employers, or anyone he needed to win over. “Is Emily still here?”
    “Hi, Dean,” Carol said. She took off her glasses and let them hang from the beaded chain around her neck. They rested on the cushion of her wide bosom, which—even though she was way old—he couldn’t help staring at. “Her shift ended over an hour ago. She ate and left.”
    “Ah,” he said. He pulled his face into a disappointed grimace. “I got hung up at a job interview. I’m late to pick her up.”
    Carol gave him a slow nod, a narrow up-and-down stare. Did she seem skeptical? What right did she have to doubt what he