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guy was a stockbroker and a real phony.
    Another bunch of kids brushed past, knocking the guitar case off his shoulder. Devin Freedman caught it before it hit the ground.
    “You need to get out of the line of fire.” Still carrying the case, he stepped back into the library’s portico before handing it over. “It’s Mark, isn’t it?”
    He remembers my name . Suddenly Mark’s day got a whole lot better.
     
    D EVIN REMEMBERED THE KID because he had a good guitar. “What are you studying…music?”
    “Business…I’m in some of your classes.”
    “Really?” Devin hadn’t noticed him, but then the teenager wasn’t big on eye contact.
    Mark obviously misinterpreted his surprise because he blushed and added in a rush, “But I’m not some wanker carrying his guitar case around all the time to be cool. I busk in town during lunch breaks. That’s why I’ve got my acoustic today.” He shrugged in a belated attempt to appear unconcerned. “The money keeps me in beer.”
    Devin kept a straight face. “Not something parents allow for in their budget, I guess.” He looked toward the cafeteria and braced himself for stares. Having cut short the meeting, he had to hang around for his next class, and damned if he was going to go hungry because a bunch of kids would gawk at him. Delaying the moment, he asked, “Made any friends yet?”
    “No. I mean I’m sure I will….”
    Devin realized he’d hit a nerve. “Me, neither,” he said easily. “First day everyone wanted to sit with me. The dean gave a stern lecture about harassment and now nobody does. Who’ll let me copy their homework?”
    The kid laughed; it sounded like he really needed to. What the hell. “Had lunch yet?” Devin had been going to ask the librarian as a peace offering, but she’d gone home sick, which was odd because she’d looked fine half an hour ago.
    Color rose under Mark’s pale skin. “If you’re asking because you feel sorry for me—”
    Devin raised his hands to the sky. “Fine, we’ll sit by ourselves like a couple of geeks.” He started walking across the road, heard Mark scramble to catch up, and hid a grin.“Since I’m doing you such a favor,” Devin growled, “you’re buying.”
    The kid shot him a glance. “Hey, you’re the rock star,” he protested.
    “Which makes you the groupie,” Devin drawled. “I’ll have a coffee and a doughnut and it better have sprinkles.”

CHAPTER FOUR
    R ACHEL CAME BACK TO WORK two days later, all cried out. The aftereffects—sore eyes and red nose—led credence to her flu story, which only made her feel more guilty. A childhood of enforced deception had given her an antipathy to lying.
    She was in an intolerable situation, aching to see her son but with no excuse to do so. Instead she had to depend on the occasions he chanced into the library during her shift, and not surprisingly, after her babble on Tuesday he tended to give her a wide berth.
    Friday afternoon she’d just begun an informal workshop on finding and searching business resources when Mark and Devin came in together and joined the seven students already standing in a circle around her. Ignoring Devin, she smiled a welcome at Mark and summarized her intro. “Okay, everyone, let’s move on to search strategies.” Act cool , she told herself, he needs to think of you as normal.
    As she distributed the handouts, Devin murmured provocatively, “Your hair’s much nicer down.” Rachel turned her back on him. She hadn’t seen him since the kiss three days earlier, and he wasn’t a bit repentant. But a slap on the wrist would have to wait for privacy.
    She got the opportunity twenty minutes later, when she dismissed the group. To her surprise, Devin had asked some intelligent questions, made notes, acted like a regular student right down to calling her Ms. Robinson. “Can you stay behind a moment?” she asked him.
    “Sure. Mark…go ahead, buddy, I’ll catch up to you.”
    Rachel forgot her prepared lecture