I hopped in and Stacey gave the driver Quinf s address. He pulled away before I even had time to say good-bye, so I just waved out the back window. As we drove along, I watched the scene on the street again, but I was a little distracted. It was getting awfully close to T-time: the time when I'd have my Talk with Quint. In my mind, so that the cab driver wouldn't think I was nuts, I started to rehearse the lines I'd worked out. "Quint," I'd say. "We need to talk. I like you a lot, and I'm glad we're friends, but — "

The cab screeched to a halt.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Isn't this the address your friend told me?" the driver asked.

I checked the building. "Oh, I guess it is," I said. I looked at the meter and was relieved to see a nice, even number. Six dollars. Ten percent of that would be sixty cents, and half again would make it ninety. I gave the driver seven dollars. "Keep the change," I said, feeling cosmopolitan and also a little pleased with my generosity, since I'd given him an extra dime.

"Thanks-have-a-nice-day," he droned, as if he said the same thing a thousand times a day and could hardly be bothered.

I stepped out, looked up at Quint's building, took a deep breath, and went inside.

The moment I saw Quint I felt less nervous. I really do like him a lot. He didn't kiss me or anything, either, which was a good thing since his little sister and brother, Morgan and Tyler, were standing right there. Morgan's six, and Tyler is nine. They would have teased the daylights out of us if Quint had acted like I was his girlfriend.

"Jessi," said Mrs. Walter, entering the room. "Nice to see you." She's soft-spoken and a little shy, but she seemed genuinely glad to see me. Quint's father came in, too. "Welcome," he said, smiling.