Page 62 of Fake it ’Til Fall

Puck’s tail starts thumping against the floor.

Daisy looks down at him first, because she has terrible priorities.

“Hello, handsome,” she says.

“He’s a dog.”

“He’s a gentleman.”

“He tried to eat a sock this morning.”

“You shouldn’t discuss his private matters in public.”

Puck rises and shoves his head into her hip.

Daisy’s face changes.

There it is again. The thing that makes my chest feel like someone moved furniture without warning.

Then she looks at me. “Hello, Six-Fifteen.”

“Thorn.”

“You’re early.”

“Everyone keeps saying that.”

“Everyone is right. Is this a cry for help?”

“I came for coffee.”

“And yet you brought your face.”

“Usually comes with me.”

“Tragic policy.”

Bea snorts behind the counter.

Daisy crosses to my table and sets the notebook down.

I look at it.

The top page reads: HOCKEY DINNER QUESTIONS. IMPORTANT: DO NOT SOUND STUPID.

I look back at her.

She folds her arms. “Don’t.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You’re thinking loudly.”

“You wrote yourself instructions.”

“I write many instructions. I am an administrative professional.”

“You wrote ‘do not sound stupid’ with caps and underlined it—twice.”