I’m nearing the end of my first day at Freddy’s when I hear something falling on the black rubber mat behind me. A lot of somethings. When I turn, half the pyramid of Granny Smiths I had just stacked is gone. Duncan stands next to it, red-faced. He puts down his basket and skateboard and starts picking up the scattered apples.
My heart speeds up. Abandoning my produce cart, I stalk over.
He looks up. “Sorry. I guess I made an apple-lanche.”
Even though his pun is pretty good, I ignore it. I ignore his strong jaw, muscled arms, and beautiful eyes. My heart is reacting one way, but my head has to be in charge. “What are you doing here?”
“Buying groceries.” Still on his knees, he begins gathering apples.
“I’m sure your mom can take care of that for you, since she works here.” With the toe of one of my Vans, I kick an apple toward him.
The flush deepens. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.” His voice is urgent and low. “And about why you might have said it. I want to help you.”
I look around. There’s no one near us. “You want to help me?”
“Yeah. I do.” He cradles a half dozen apples.
“Then leave me alone!”
Duncan’s unfazed. “That’s why you moved down here, isn’t it? To figure out who did it?” He gets to his feet and starts fitting the apples into empty spaces, one by one.
It’s clear I don’t have any other choice but to talk to him. Or at least give him a talking-to. I huff a sigh. “Do you know where the employees park their cars?” When he nods, I say, “I’m off in fifteen minutes. Meet me back there.”
Pushing my produce cart through the black rubber swinging doors that lead to the prep room, I spend the last few minutes of my day grinding my teeth as I cut and wrap watermelon chunks. When I go out to the parking lot, Duncan’s doing kickflips next to my car. He’s still not wearing a helmet, so he must think he’s got this trick down. As I watch, he steps on the board wrong and almost takes a header. For some reason, his near miss makes me even madder.
“Get in.” I unlock his door and then mine.
It’s like crawling into an oven. But I don’t need anyone to overhear what I’ve got to say. “This is my life.” I shake my finger in his face. “And I don’t need you to go messing it up by spreading crazy rumors.”
“You’re right. It is your life. I wasn’t thinking it through, and I’m really sorry. After I left, I realized it’s about more than just Carly and Lauren, isn’t it? Because they aren’t the only ones who’d want to know that you’ve come back to Medford. Whoever killed your parents would probably be very interested in finding out what you remember.” He takes my right hand. I’m so surprised I don’t pull it back. He runs his thumb across my scar, and even in the heat, a shiver dances across my skin.
I pull my hand back. Push my feelings away. “So who else knows that Ariel had a scar?” I tried dabbing foundation on my palm this morning, but it lasted only a few minutes under the prep sink.
“Maybe my parents?” He shrugs. “But they might not remember the specifics. Maybe just me, since I’m the one who got in so much trouble for daring you.”
“There’s something you need to understand. My name is Olivia Reinhart now. Ariel Benson—that girl doesn’t exist anymore. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t matter. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve justice, or that her parents don’t deserve justice. And I’m the only one who can give it to her.”
“Okay.” Duncan nods. “I hear you. But you can’t do it all by yourself. You’re going to need someone to help you find out what really happened.”
My guard goes right back up. “This isn’t any of your business.”
“Maybe you don’t think it is, but you should still let me help. Because if you’re the only one asking questions, people are going to notice and start asking questions themselves. But me—they’ll just think I’m curious. They won’t worry that I have an ulterior motive. And who else knows this town better than someone who’s lived here their whole life?”
No matter how much I want to do this by myself, Duncan’s words make a lot of sense.
He must see my hesitation. “I never forgot you. Is it so wrong for me to want to help an old friend?”
“Okay, you want to help?” I turn the ignition. “Then let’s get started.”