“What’s this group called again, Dad?”

A deep voice said something I couldn’t understand.

“The Patriotic Quartet. There’s four of them and they walk around the party only singing patriotic songs.”

“I would’ve never guessed that by their name,” I said, heading for the checkout. A few people shot me looks on my way, and I guessed I was being too loud for the library.

“I know.”

“And it’s not even the Fourth of July,” I said, quieter this time.

“Barely two weeks. Imagine how booked they are for that day.”

“Would you rather have to listen to only quartets for the rest of your life or screeching cats?”

“That’s a hard one. But quartets, I think. Unless they can only sing patriotic songs. Then the cats.”

“I’m getting our books now. Are you going to come rescue me and my empty gas tank or not?”

“Abby ran out of gas,” Cooper’s muffled voice said. He was obviously relaying the message to his dad. “I have her on the phone and can ask her exactly where she is. Otherwise we have the Find Your Friend app on each other’s phones.”

His dad must’ve asked what that was, because he said, “It’s like a GPS thing that lets me track her phone. What? Yes, it’s safe. You don’t let strangers track you, just your friends.” Back to me he said, “My dad doesn’t know what Find Your Friend is.”

“I figured.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“My hero,” I said dryly.

“See you in a bit.”

“I’ll be back at my house. No need to use the app.”

“Copy.”

I hung up and handed my books to the librarian.

“These are due in two weeks,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks.”

She used a wand to scan the barcode on the covers. “These are character-building books. They’ll make you think.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

I hoped they built character fast, because it felt like the clock was ticking.

TEN

The next day Cooper and I sat in my room reading our books.

“Was work any better today?” Cooper was lying on the floor. He’d rested Crime and Punishment on his chest and had his hands grasped behind his head. He looked so at ease in my room that it seemed like he should be a permanent fixture there.

From up on my bed, I responded, “Nope. Ticket counter again. Tina got the floor. Tina doesn’t even like the floor.”

“Stupid Tina.”

“I know!” I sighed and turned the page of my book.

Cooper was silent for several long moments, then asked, “Would you rather have to read only that book for the rest of your life or only be able to watch one movie for the rest of your life?”

“That’s hard. I love movies, but I can’t imagine never being able to pick up another book either.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I can give up movies. I’m visual,” I said.

“I don’t think I can either.” He held up his book. “You want to switch?”

“Switch? I’m on chapter six.” We’d started reading the day before, after he’d “rescued” me. And I was actually enjoying Charles Dickens. The language was hard to get into at first, but I felt like I was starting to understand. It was an interesting story that brought to life some of the things we’d studied in world history about the French Revolution.

“Let’s summarize what we’ve read so far and then switch for the next hour. Double the depth, right?”

I laughed. “Okay.” I Frisbeed the book to him. “Oh. I forgot to tell you I ran into Lacey Barnes at the library yesterday.”

“Zit cream girl?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never talked to her before. Does she really use that zit cream? Does it help?” He ran his hand over the side of his face, where he must’ve had a blemish. I couldn’t see one. Cooper had nice skin but, like me, broke out on occasion.

“She doesn’t use it. She has perfect skin.”

“Figures,” he said. “What’s she like?”

“Really nice, actually. And not vain at all.”

“What does that mean?”

“You don’t know what vain means?”

“I know what vain means, but why did you bring it up?”

“Nothing. Inside joke.”

“You already have an inside joke with Lacey Barnes?”

I almost said I had been kidding but then realized “Yes, I do.”

“There you go oozing your charm again, Abby.”

I threw a pillow at him and he laughed, then tossed me his book. It landed next to me on the bed. He picked up the book I’d thrown him and reclined back.

“Wait. Summary.” We each summarized what we had read so far and then began reading from the books we now held. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when my mom knocked on the frame of my open door.

“Have the classics swallowed you both whole or would you like to eat dinner?”

Cooper set his book aside and immediately stood. “Mrs. Turner, if you are offering food, I will eat it. It’s the least I can do.”

She beamed at him.

I joined Cooper and we followed my mom down the hall. “I can see why you wanted to switch books, by the way. Crime and Punishment is disturbing.”

“I know. I sensed nightmares. I’m not as tough as you,” he said.

“Didn’t you just call me a wimp the other day?”

“A wimp about some things. Not others.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

He chuckled. “No problem.”

Mom had made chicken and rice, and four plates sat on the table, where my grandpa waited.

“Cooper,” Grandpa said. “Again.”

Cooper smiled. “You sick of me, Grandpa Dave?”

“Always,” Grandpa said.

Mom swatted the air near Grandpa. “He’s kidding.”

“He’s not,” I whispered at the same time my grandpa mouthed, I’m not.

Cooper let out a single laugh. “It’s kind of creepy how you two are the same person,” he said, looking between Grandpa and me.

“Except he’s a hundred years older.”

“How’s the list coming?” Mom asked, loading up a plate and handing it to me.

“Cooper made me ride on a quad in the dunes. I’m not sure how much depth that gave me, but it was an experience.”

I was about to talk about how terrifying it was but pressed my lips together. Mom had stopped scooping rice midscoop, frozen.

I changed my tone. “It was fun. Cooper is a professional, so it wasn’t really scary at all.”

Cooper laughed, taking the plate full of food in front of me and sliding it in front of him. “Right. You should’ve seen her.”

I grabbed hold of his knee under the table and dug my fingers around it.

He shot me a look but then noticed my mom. “She did great,” he said with hardly a pause. “We took it slow.”

Grandpa sighed as if he knew what we were doing.

Finally my mom snapped out of her daze. “That’s great, hon. That’s definitely a new experience. Next time, will you run risky activities by me first?”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“I kind of sprang it on her. She wasn’t sure what we were doing. Sorry, Mrs. Turner.”