She nodded, then laughed stiffly. “Can’t have too many veggies, right?”

“I guess not.”

David cleared his throat and asked, “So, when did you move here?”

“In May. I’ve been working for my dad a lot. He owns the bookstore downtown.”

“Really?” David asked. “I went in there last week. It’s a great store. I don’t remember seeing you though.”

“That’s my mom’s fault. She dragged me around shopping for school supplies all week. This is the first year I haven’t been homeschooled, and my mom’s convinced I don’t have enough supplies.”

“Homeschooled?”

“Yeah. They’re forcing me to go public this year.”

He grinned. “Well, I’m glad they did.” He looked down at his cupcake for a few seconds before asking, “Do you miss your old town?”

“Sometimes.” She smiled softly. “But it’s nice here. My old town, Orick, is seriously small. Like five-hundred-people small.”

“Wow.” He chuckled. “L.A.’s just a little bigger than that.”

She laughed and choked on her soda.

David looked like he was ready to ask something else, but the bell sounded and he smiled instead. “Can we do this again tomorrow?” He hesitated for a second, then added, “With my friends, maybe?”

Laurel’s first instinct was to say no, but she’d enjoyed David’s company. Besides, socializing more was yet another reason her mom had insisted on public school this year. “Sure,” she said before she could lose her nerve. “That’d be fun.”

“Awesome.” He stood and offered her his hand. He pulled her to her feet and grinned lopsidedly for a minute. “Well, I’ll…see you around, I guess.”

She watched him walk away. His jacket and loose-fitting jeans looked more or less like everyone else’s, but there was a sureness in his walk that set him apart from the crowd. Laurel was envious of that confident stride.

Maybe someday.

Laurel threw her backpack on the counter and slumped onto a barstool. Her mom, Sarah, glanced up from the bread she was kneading. “How was school?”