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to work and couldn’t be late. “Hey!”
    He shoved open the double doors, heading out into the afternoon sun.
    “I need you to drop me off at home.” Lizzie sounded both annoyed and out of breath when she final y was in stride with him.
    “Can’t.” He opened the door of his white truck, got in.
    “I’m going to work.”
    She got in anyway. “You… found a job?” She exaggerated just to irritate him.
    He revved the engine and waited for her to get out. She broke into a laugh.
    “What’s funny?” he asked.
    “That any respectable place would hire a loser like you.
    Wait! It must not be respectable if they hired you.”
    “Get out.”
    “Seriously, I need a ride home.”
    “And seriously, I can’t give you a ride now go bum one off one of your friends.”
    “You know none of my friends can drive yet.”
    “So hitch.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    “I’m going to be late, beat it.”
    She sat firmly, looking out the front window.
    “Where do you work? No, let me guess. You pick up trash downtown for the city. Do you get to wear one of those ugly orange jumpsuits that make you look like you just escaped from prison?”
    In one jerk, Cort leaned across her and thrust open the door, almost pushing her out. Then he saw Rachel coming through the parking lot with Ticia and Jennifer. He froze, sat back up and started to sweat.
    It was no skin off his nose to scream and yel , occasional y even pound on his sister—in private. But both of them knew better than to attack in public. That kind of behavior might be a turn-off to Rachel who looked right at him.
    He hoped the afternoon sun was blinding her, or the glare from his front windshield.
    He got out, sent her casual nod. “Hey.”
    “Hey, Cort.” Rachel looked at Liz and sent her a friendly wave. “Isn’t that your sister?”
    “Yeah. You know her?”
    “We had PE together last term. Hi, Liz.”
    Cort’s gut tightened when Liz rol ed down the window and started talking.
    “Rachel, what’s up? Need a ride? Cort’s giving them out today.”
    “I have my car.”
    “That’s right, that cute black Beemer. How would it be?”
     
    “It’s great, actual y.”
    “Wel , Cort’s going to pound me because I’m making him late for work. He has this mysterious job no one knows about.”
    “You mean the nail job?” Rachel asked, and smiled at Cort.
    He wanted to dissolve into the asphalt. Instead, he dropped his head to his chest.
    “Nail job?” Liz spit out, then started howling with laughter. Rachel, Ticia and Jennifer moved closer to the car, amused at Liz’s extreme reaction.
    “How did you know?” Cort asked Rachel, his voice quiet.
    “It’s the hot topic, Cort. Everybody knows. You’re not embarrassed are you?”
    Though his face was heating fast, he shook his head ignoring the sticky discomfort of the moment.
    “’Course not. I make good money there.”
    “Make?” Lizzie interjected. “You’ve worked there, what, a day ? No wonder you smel .”
    “Mean girl,” Rachel said, stil highly amused.
    “I’ve been working there for two weeks.” Cort’s tone was sharp. Aimed at Lizzie it promised retribution.
    “So were you advertising when you told me they did great nails at Miss Chachi’s or being honest?” Rachel asked.
    He crossed his heart. “Being honest.”
    Rachel looked at Ticia, at Jennifer, then back at Cort.
    “We go to La Nails in the mal but we’l give you a try.” She started toward her car. “You’ve got a chance to impress me, Cort.”
    “I’l take that chance,” he cal ed after her. “Come this afternoon.”
    As she backed away, the breeze mussed her hair, stirring something deep inside of him. “When do you work?” she asked.
    “Four to nine.”
    She lifted a shoulder demurely. “Maybe.” Then she turned and he watched her hips swing to her car.
    “Woohoo. You have it for her, don’t you?” Lizzie asked, rol ing up her window.
    The buzz of seeing Rachel and talking to her covered the total frustration