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aisle.
I can do this.
I walk carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible. Once I hit the carpet, I think I’m home free. But wet boots can slip as easily on carpet as they can on tile. The heel of my left boot catches on the edge of the step and my foot slides out from under me. My arms start pinwheeling. My legs fly out at weird angles and I brace myself for impact. I probably would have ended up sprawled halfway down the stairs with the whole school staring at me if it weren’t for a pair of strong hands that manage to catch me before I hit the ground.
     
    “Careful.” The voice is low and soft and his breath is warm on my neck. I stand up unsteadily and make my way down one more step to where Jillian and Claire are sitting staring at me.
     
    “Holy sugar,” Jillian whispers in light of the fact that we’re in chapel. “That was Ben Donovan.” I shrug and both she and Claire look at me for a moment before turning their attention back to the front, where Father Birch is winding up the prayer. My cheeks still feel like they’re on fire. Okay, so maybe I’m not completely hardened to the concept of romance. Or maybe I’m still dizzy from eating too quickly, almost falling on my head, and Ben Donovan’s warm breath on my neck.
     

chapter five
     
    T he time it takes to pick up one almost-six-year-old from kindergarten and one almost-five-year-old from preschool is only slightly shorter than the time it took modern man to put someone on the moon. After three return trips (the first to retrieve one mitten, the second because Lucy did have to go to the bathroom after all, and the third because Dom forgot that it was his week to take home Chi Chi the Chinchilla), we finally manage to make it down the sidewalk and to the bus stop. We stand shivering behind the windscreen, waiting for the bus that will take us to my mom’s shop. It’s walkable from the school on a good day, but that day isn’t today. Today, the wind is biting at us, making it scary cold, especially since this is Georgia. Here, you can bake cookies in your car in the summer (yes, we’ve tried it), and you can sometimes wear flip-flops in the winter.
    “Piper, I’m cold,” Lucy says for the seventh time. I look down and her teeth are actually chattering. I give up my scarf, twisting it around her neck and tucking the ends into the collar of her coat. Dominic refuses to zip up his coat, claiming he isn’t cold.
     
    “I’m hot,” he says. Dom would argue that the sky is actually pink with yellow polka dots if you let him. Finally the bus rounds the corner and heads our way. I dig our bus passes out of my coat pocket and shift the three backpacks I am shouldering to try and make them stop cutting into my neck. The doors open and several people spill out. I have to grab onto Dom’s hood to keep him from knocking into everyone as they walk past. Once aboard, Dom and Lucy shoot all the way to their favorite spot at the back, leaving me to juggle the passes, the backpacks, and Chi Chi’s cage.
     
    “Only service animals are allowed on the bus,” the driver says, pointing to a sign posted on the front. I think quickly. The last thing I want is to have to walk the dozen blocks into the wind, dragging Lucy and Dom along behind me.
     
    “This animal is being trained to retrieve objects for people.” The driver peers into the cage. “Small objects,” I say. He looks at my face, which is already flushed. I can see he doesn’t believe me. I mean, I wouldn’t believe me.
     
    “Go sit down,” he says, waving his hand toward the back.
     
    “Thank you,” I say. I start making my way toward the back, where Lucy and Dom are on their knees looking outthe windows. When I’m halfway up the aisle, the bus lurches forward, sending me and Chi Chi sprawling to the floor. I push myself back to standing and peer into the cage. Chi Chi looks mad but unhurt. I wish I could say the same for me. Now, in addition to the run that wouldn’t quite