When he stepped back, her breath flew out. She looked down and saw that the gap was now modestly pinned shut.

“Better?” he asked.

“Oh. Yes!” She paused to compose herself. Said, with queenly dignity: “Thank you, Elijah. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

A moment passed. Crows cawed, and the autumn leaves were like bright flames engulfing the branches above.

“You think you could help me with something, Alice?” he asked.

“With what?”

Oh, stupid, stupid answer. You should just have said yes! Yes, I’ll do anything for you, Elijah Lank.

“I’ve got this project I’m doing for biology. I need a partner to help me with it, and I don’t know who else to ask.”

“What kind of project is it?”

“I’ll show you. We’ve got to go up by my house.”

His house. She’d never been to a boy’s house.

She nodded. “Let me drop my books off at home.”

He pulled his bike from the rack. It was almost as battered as hers, the fenders going rusty, the vinyl peeling off the seat. That old bike made her like him even more. We’re a real pair, she thought. Tony Curtis and me.

They rode to her house first. She didn’t invite him in; she was too embarrassed to let him see the shabby furniture, the paint peeling off the walls. She just ran inside, dumped her book bag on the kitchen table, and ran out.

Unfortunately, her brother’s dog, Buddy, did as well. Just as she came out the front door, he scampered out in a blur of black and white.

“Buddy!” she yelled. “You come back here!”

“He doesn’t listen very well, does he?” said Elijah.

“Because he’s a stupid dog. Buddy!”

The mutt glanced back, tail wagging, then trotted off down the road.

“Oh, never mind,” she said. “He’ll come home when he’s ready.” She climbed onto her bike. “So where do you live?”