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just static electricity. Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t even know anything about him.
    Except that you kind of really, really like him . . 

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
    HarperCollins Publishers
    ..................................................................
CHAPTER 9
Lucy
    “When did you get so bad at tennis?” I asked Claire as we walked into the cabin. After dinner with my grandparents, we’d met up for tennis at the high school courts.
    “What? I was fine,” Claire said. “You were the one who hit every ball into the court next to ours.”
    “Me? What about you?” I cried. “You served halfway to Canada! If I had to say ‘Little help?’ to that couple on the court next to us one more time, I was going to die of shame.” I set my racket next to the coat closet inside the front door.
    “So, nice shack you got here,” Claire observed as she wandered around the living room and peered down the hall toward the bedrooms. “You know, when I first heard about this place from your grandmother, I wished I could live here with you, but now? Not so much.”
    “What are you talking about? This place is great,” I said. “Okay, it still needs some work, but I think in another week or two it could be okay. So how’s your job going?” I asked Claire. She worked at a soup-and-sandwich spot, one of the places that stayed open year-round.
    “It’s pretty good. Same as the winter but ten times busier, so I have to get faster. And how’s the Apple Store?” she asked.
    “It’s okay. It’s weird, actually,” I confessed.
    “Well, after three years of dreading running into Jackson, now you’re working with him. So how could it not be weird?” Claire asked.
    “Three years.” I thought about the Windex he sprayed in my eyes, the melting candles, the awkward silences. But there were a few times we’d laughed, too, so maybe we were getting a little more comfortable around each other. Not that it was saying much.
    “It’s not as bad as you’d think,” I said. “As long as I don’t remember how stupid I felt about making a move on him when I was thirteen.” I’d never told Claire the long version of the story—the one where I ended up feeling really angry at Jackson. I’d always tried to brush it off as no big deal, just an awkward kiss. The only ones who knew the whole story were Ava and Mikayla.
    “He probably doesn’t think about it. Not anymore. He probably forgot,” Claire said. “Look at it this way. He’s kissed a hundred girls since then.”
    “Seriously? A hundred?” I couldn’t believe that. “What kind of guy is he?”
    “So maybe not a hundred, okay? But I saw him last summer with at least a couple different girls—he was working at the Beach Club and they’d come into the deli all the time after work for sandwiches and drinks and stuff. Not that they ever talked to me that much, but the guy is really handsome, Luce. The fact you even kissed him once is a major coup. I mean, I’m impressed.”
    “Don’t be. I don’t think it’s something to brag about if the guy says, ‘Yeah, um, don’t .’”
    Claire laughed. “Yeah, but it counts .”
    “Are we counting now?” I asked.
    “We’re only counting the good ones,” Claire said. “Not my prom date a few weeks ago. He reminded me of our Saint Bernard.”
    “Big and furry?” I asked.
    “Slobbery.” She shook her head, and I laughed. “I couldn’t get inside the house fast enough. I needed a towel.”
    I tossed the dish towel at her and we both cracked up. “At least you had a date. I mean, a guy. I went with Mikayla and a bunch of other girls.”
    “Sounds like a way better plan,” Claire said. “I bet you had a blast.”
    I thought about the manicures, the dress shopping, the limo ride, and how Mikayla and I stole Ava away not only from her slightly pushy senior date but also from her ex, Dean, who kept trying to get her alone “just to talk.” After dancing nonstop at prom we’d all gotten a ride