Crushed by Laura McNeal Page B

global warming.
    Lea, in her quiet voice, said, “What does ‘a little’ mean?”
    Audrey just smiled and stirred Sweet’n Low into her tea.
    C.C. leaned forward and said, “Does ‘a little’ mean a little too much?”
    A light, surprised laugh escaped Audrey. “I don’t think so, no.”
    The girls all took bites of their bagels.
    â€œOkay,” C.C. said carefully. “How did it make you feel?”
    Audrey smiled and blinked slowly. She’d awoken this morning thinking of a legend they’d learned at the Tate School, the one in which the young, brave, and handsome Tristan is sent to Ireland to escort the beautiful Iseult to Britain so that she can join her intended husband, the vengeful and ignoble King Mark, who is also Tristan’s uncle. Tristan is sent with a magic potion for Iseult to drink so that she might fall eternally in love with the elderly uncle, but on the way Tristan and Iseult mistakenly drink the potion and fall eternally in love with each other instead.
    Audrey said, “I felt as if for the first time in my life I could imagine what Tristan and Iseult felt after they’d drunk the love potion.” This seemed to go too far, so she added, “Except I didn’t feel like I’d drunk the whole potion or anything. It was more like a single droplet.”
    Lea and C.C. had stopped chewing while she talked.
    Now, after a long moment, they resumed.
    Audrey said, “Almost the weirdest thing happened after I came home.” She was about to describe the money talk with her father when she noticed someone entering the restaurant, and stopped short.
    â€œUh-oh,” she said in a small voice.
    It was Theo Driggs with about five of his enormous, slouching friends. They sauntered down the next aisle.
    Audrey wanted to avert her eyes, but couldn’t—a mistake, it turned out. When Theo noticed her, he silently, exaggeratedly mouthed two words, and Audrey could read his plump lips loud and clear.
    Do list.
    Audrey looked away.
Mucker,
she thought.
Mucker, mucker,
mucker. She glanced at C.C. and Lea. “Vacate, vacate, vacate,” she said, and they all got up.
    Outside, in the warm sunshine, C.C. suggested tennis.
    â€œIn November?” Audrey said.
    C.C. spread her arms and gestured at the blue sky. “Audrey, honey, everything I see says June.”
    So they agreed on tennis at C.C.’s, but not until after lunch, because Audrey said she needed to run an errand for her father.
    â€œWhat kind of errand?” C.C. said.
    â€œThe boring kind,” Audrey said, to deflect any interest in their tagging along. “See you guys after lunch.”

Chapter 26
    The Return of the Spaghetti-Strap Dress
    â€œReason for return?”
    Audrey was returning the spaghetti-strap dress, along with the shoes and sweater. “The fit wasn’t—” Audrey began, but stopped. She didn’t want to lie; she didn’t know what to say; she’d never done this before.
    The clerk, a thin, fortyish woman with a clamped-tight face, lowered her chin and peered over her reading glasses. “You didn’t try them on before you bought them?” It was more an accusation than a question.
    â€œI did, but—” She glanced away, searching the aisles and hoping nobody she knew was in the store.
    â€œWas there something wrong with the garments?”
    Audrey turned. “No. It’s just that . . . my father didn’t like them.”
    The clerk brought the dress close to her face and sniffed it. “I think it’s been worn,” she said, and again peered down at Audrey. “Has it been worn?”
    Audrey lowered her eyes and nodded. Outside, it was the most beautiful, sunny November day ever, and here she was, standing inside a shop, doing this. She wanted to say,
It’s
okay, I’ll just go ahead and keep it,
but her father had looked so worried that she said nothing and waited.
    The