Selma glared at her. “Excuse me?”

  “You are a talented artist, but a good teacher judges a student based on her work, not what her last name is.” Selma’s eyes fluttered with recognition. “I hope you can remember that when I redo this assignment.” Mira gave Selma a bright smile. A true belle always ended a conversation pleasantly.

  Selma mumbled something Mira couldn’t understand, then skipped the rest of the critiques and told the students to “free paint” for the remainder of their time because she suddenly had a migraine. Mira could barely contain herself. She happily took out her colored pencils and sketched a drawing of their backyard after the storm. Every once in a while she would look up and catch Selma staring, her cheeks tinged a pink hue.

  When class finally let out and Selma had left the building, Landon surprised Mira by lifting her into the air and spinning her around. Mira didn’t mind one bit.

  “That was incredible!” Mira gushed as Charlotte quietly moved away to avoid ruining the moment. “Did you see Selma’s face?”

  “You schooled her!” Landon said. “And in such a smooth way even I felt guilty. And I did nothing wrong.” Mira laughed. “Classy move.”

  Mira jokingly curtsied, but she was serious when she looked into his dark eyes. “Thank you for telling me that. I don’t know how you remembered a newspaper story about my dad, but that tip couldn’t have come at a better time.” She thought of her crappy conversation with Kellen and her worries on the way to Selma’s class.

  Landon looked like he had something to say, but they both realized they weren’t alone. Emerald Arts was already resetting the room for the next class. The easels were being moved aside to create space for large, paint-splattered tables. A girl was putting plastic cups of paint and jars full of water on the tables. Others started to trickle in, too, getting right to work. Everyone seemed excited to see Landon. The other volunteers chatted as they brought out buckets of used brushes alongside paint smocks and lampshades. Mira wasn’t sure what those were for. All she knew was that kids were waiting eagerly in the hallway, some younger than Connor. When one of the girls beckoned them to come in, everyone seemed to know exactly where to go.

  “Are you sure it’s okay I’m here?” Mira felt a little uncomfortable.

  Landon put a hand on her back, and Mira stiffened slightly. “We could use the help. Let me introduce you to everyone.” He pointed out various volunteers before finally introducing her to the nine-year-old girl he worked with in class. “Don’t be surprised if Jillian is a little shy at first,” Landon warned as he led her over to a peanut of a girl with shoulder-length straight hair. She was wearing a Taylor Swift T.

  “Jilly Bean, this is Mira. Mira, meet Jilly Bean.” Landon made the introductions.

  “Hi, Jillian,” Mira said brightly.

  “Hey.” Jillian didn’t make eye contact. “Landon, do you have to call me Jilly Bean around other people?” she whispered. “It’s embarrassing.”

  Landon ruffled her shoulders. “If Taylor Swift was calling you that, I bet you wouldn’t mind.” He sang a few lines from one of Taylor’s songs.

  “You listen to Taylor Swift?” Mira asked incredulously.

  Landon’s cheeks colored slightly. “Maybe.”

  At the mention of Taylor, Jillian opened up. “Not maybe. He knows all her songs.”

  “Now you’re embarrassing me.” Landon wouldn’t look at Mira as he rearranged Jillian’s art supplies. There were small containers of what looked like crushed eggshells, each container holding a different color shell.

  “Do you like Taylor Swift?” Jillian looked tentatively at Mira.

  “Who doesn’t like the goddess of pop country music?” Mira said. “Right, Landon?” He pretended to be hard of hearing while he took out construction paper and glue and placed them in front of Jillian.

  Jillian clearly was catching on to the shaming. “He likes Justin Bieber, too. He sang one of his songs to me for my birthday.” Mira started to laugh uncontrollably.

  Landon let some crushed pink eggshells fall through his fingers back into the container. “Stop giving away my secrets! I’m starting to regret inviting you here,” he grumbled jokingly to Mira.

  “Why do you care what she thinks?” Jillian asked. “Is she your girlfriend?”

  Mira stopped laughing, and she and Landon looked at each other. His cheeks grew more pink, and she was sure hers were the same color. “We’re just friends.” His eyes never left Mira’s face. “Mira has a boyfriend.”

  Jillian’s face fell. “You do?”

  Mira felt an overwhelming urge to correct that statement. “Had a boyfriend. He moved away a few weeks ago.” She looked at Jillian even though she knew Landon was watching her. It was a relief to say that out loud. It felt like Kellen had understood things were over the minute he stepped on that plane, but she’d needed time to wrap her head around the change. She and Kellen would always have a connection, but she needed to keep reminding herself that they weren’t a couple anymore. She couldn’t continue to act like they were one, because doing that only hurt one person: herself.

  “Taylor Swift has had a lot of famous breakups, and she writes songs about them.” Jillian was playing with the dyed eggshells as she gave Mira the rundown of Taylor’s love life. “It probably has to do with all the touring she does.”

  Landon shook his head. “Darn touring.”

  “If I do well on my next math test, Landon promised he’d try to get tickets to a Taylor Swift concert. She’s coming to the Greensboro Coliseum this summer.” Jillian stared at the paint-splattered table. “But he said he’ll only take me if I get a B.”

  “There have to be rules if you want me to take you to hear Taylor whine about her love life.” Landon handed her a lampshade. Some of the other groups had already started working. “So, Bean, today we’re gluing eggshells on this shade. You can make whatever design you like.” Jillian stared at her construction paper for inspiration. “Why don’t you sketch a design on the shade first?” She nodded.

  Mira followed Landon over to the counter to get more glue. Jillian had put her iPod earbuds in and was singing along to a Taylor song. “She’s a really sweet kid,” Mira said, and hesitated. “What qualified her for a class like this?”

  “Everyone’s story is different,” Landon explained. “Some kids are on the autism spectrum or have other special needs. Some come from bad homes. Jillian’s parents were going through a really bad divorce, and she wasn’t coping well at school. She needed a shot of self-esteem. She’s been with me for about a year now, and she’s come a long way. I can’t believe how easily she opened up to you.” He looked over at her. “She never would have done that a few months ago.”

  It was nice to see a guy so invested in a kid like that. “You really care about her.”

  Landon didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “And I already got the Taylor Swift tickets. She’s going whether she gets a B or not.” He grinned proudly. “The only problem is I got stuck with four seats even though I only need two. This guy on eBay wouldn’t split his four, so I bought all of them. I already had been outbid on another set, so I didn’t want to let these go. I used all my birthday money, but Jilly Bean deserves it.”

  That might have been the cutest thing she’d ever heard a guy say.

  “So now I have two extra tickets.” Landon leaned on the sink and tried to look cool even though the topic was totally adorkable. “Know anyone who might want to see Taylor Swift with me?”

  “Charlotte is obsessed with her,” Mira teased, and he looked slightly disappointed. “I don’t think she’s so bad, either. If you’re asking.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “I’m asking. So it’s a date,” he said, and she felt her stomach lurch. “But not until July.” They both laughed. “I’m not sure that will fly in Charlotte’s book. After all, she did say I owe you dinner for withholding valuable intel on Selma Simmons.”

  Mira tried hard not
to smile. “That is true. So how do we fix this?”

  “I take you out,” he said simply. “Tonight, though, is just the dress rehearsal. You guys didn’t really give me time to come up with a plan.” He looked at her searchingly. “Maybe next time you’ll let me take you out for real.”

  Her whole body tingled. Her voice was small but clear. “It’s a deal.”

  Fifteen

  Zoe had the music cranked up so loud that Izzie had no choice but to enter the pool house without knocking. She found her aunt huddled over her laptop in the kitchen while Adele played at full blast. Zoe didn’t notice Izzie till she was standing in front of her.

  “You almost gave me a heart attack!” Zoe said, clutching her yoga-toned stomach.

  “You’re going to have a heart attack if you don’t lower that music.” Izzie walked over to Zoe’s iPod dock, which was on the kitchen counter next to a pile of unwashed dishes and a half-empty Chinese food container, and lowered the music from deafening to normal. The ringing in her ears stopped. “I could hear Adele from inside the house.”

  “Sorry!” Zoe barely looked at her as she clicked away on her laptop, her mouse swirling in circles. “I work best when the music is loud, and right now I have a monster assignment that is way overdue—two actually. I can’t do anything else till I’m finished.”

  I can see that, Izzie thought. She could only imagine how Aunt Maureen would react if she saw the pool house like this. In addition to the dishes piled in the sink, there were takeout boxes stacked like magazines, dirty laundry on the floor, a mound of unfolded clothes on a living room chair, and camera equipment and backdrops everywhere. Zoe was in yoga pants and an oversize sweatshirt with her hair piled on top of her head with what looked like chopsticks. “I didn’t know you were working,” Izzie said. “I’ll come back.”

  “Stay. I’m… done!” Zoe clicked Send and looked up triumphantly. “Gwen and Gavin’s cute family pictures are in their in-box, and crusty Vivian Ingram has her photos of her precious Founders Day parade.” She slammed the laptop closed and flung herself from the kitchen chair to the couch. “Talk to me. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “It’s been almost a week,” Izzie said. A whole week since she had asked Zoe to help her out of that bind at USC and Zoe had flat out said no. Zoe hadn’t called or stopped by once to check on her. Didn’t she wonder how things worked out?

  “Has it been that long?” Zoe pulled out one of her chopsticks and scratched her head. “I guess I did fly to New York Tuesday for Gwen and Gavin, then back here Thursday, and Vivian has been calling every day for those pictures.” Zoe rolled her eyes. She pushed the pile of clothes Izzie thought were clean onto the floor and motioned for Izzie to sit. “But enough about me. Did you have fun at USC?”

  Izzie blinked. Zoe had to be joking. “I got grounded for going without permission and missed my birthday dinner, so I guess you could say no, I didn’t have too much fun.”

  Zoe slapped her forehead. “I totally forgot. So Bill was really mad? Even on your birthday? God, he’s such a stickler for rules. I’m sorry I couldn’t come get you.”

  It still bothered Izzie that Zoe had blown her off. Her aunt had said she was hanging around EC to get to know her better. Instead, they’d barely bonded and Zoe had totally forgotten her birthday. She wasn’t sure what Zoe wanted her to say.

  “How long are you grounded for?” Zoe jumped up and started opening cabinets.

  “Two weeks.” Izzie watched Zoe open all the cabinets till she found a cup. Then she went to the fridge and poured herself a glass of sweet tea. She didn’t offer Izzie one. “I can go to swim team practice and work on the booth for the Founders Day Street Fair, which is tomorrow, and the gala on Sunday, but other than that I am under house arrest.” Not hanging out with Brayden was the worst part about being grounded. Thank God she got to see him at school.

  Zoe grinned. “They didn’t say anything about not visiting the pool house, though. You can chill out here as long as you like. You can even say you’re here and then really go meet up with Brayden. I’m cool covering for you.”

  Izzie didn’t need any more problems than she already had. “That’s okay. I’m going to see him tomorrow and Sunday anyway.” Plus he had given her a sweet “grounding survival kit” at school that had her favorite Ice Breakers gum, a Butter Me Up cookie from town, and a note saying he had DVR’d her favorite shows and a Dara Torres swim competition, since she was banned from the TV. In the boyfriend category, Brayden couldn’t be beat.

  “Did Grams ever ground you?” Zoe wanted to know. “She never punished me or your mom. She was a total pushover.”

  “Grams was more of a talker,” Izzie said. “She never took away TV or gave me curfews. My dad might not have, either, if those pictures hadn’t turned up on Facebook.”

  Zoe’s arched eyebrows raised. “Facebook?”

  Izzie grimaced. “Brayden’s sister has a public Facebook profile, and she posted photos of us hanging out at this party we went to for my birthday.” Izzie sorted through the mound of newspapers on the coffee table. She pulled out the Monday edition of the North Carolina Gazette and showed her the headline: Senator Monroe Lets His Teenage Daughter Run Wild, A report by Grayson Reynolds. It showed one of Dylan’s grainy Facebook photos of Izzie standing in a frat house next to a girl wearing a USC sweatshirt. Her dad was unhappy about the party, but what was she supposed to do on a college campus on a Saturday night? Lock herself in Dylan’s room? Izzie had figured that if she was stuck there, she might as well find a way to have fun.

  “Lord, talk about getting caught in the act!” Zoe curled her legs under her and tugged at her fuzzy socks. She could have passed for one of Izzie’s friends even though she was in her thirties. “You had no way home. What were you supposed to do, stay in? God, he overreacts.” There was that edge to her voice again. It was the same one she had heard Zoe use on her dad at the parade. “One time he was furious at your mom and me because we went to see this band in a dicey Queens neighborhood. He said he should have been there to play bodyguard. He likes being in control, I think.”

  “He says he’s trying to protect me, but sometimes I feel like he doesn’t trust me.” It felt weird to talk about her dad to Zoe. “I told him I’ve been on my own for years, with Grams so sick, and I’ve managed fine. I could handle a trip to USC.”

  “Of course you could,” Zoe agreed. “I was the same way you are. That’s why I wasn’t worried about you in the storm. I knew you could take care of yourself.”

  Izzie played with a loose strand on one of the throw pillows. “The voters don’t see it that way. Dad says that to them it looks like I don’t listen.” She yanked the loose thread from the pillow, causing another string to unravel. “I don’t want to make him look bad in the middle of a campaign, but I hate being under a microscope. As long as he’s in the news, I am stuck in the public eye, too.”

  Zoe took the other chopstick out of her hair as if the conversation was giving her a headache. “One thing I will say about your dad is that he is magnetic. People are drawn to him, and that can be both good and bad. It was the same way when he was dating your mom,” she said softly. “He was only a rookie ballplayer back then, so he was always worried about how it would look if he was seen at this bar or doing something with your mom. It drove us crazy.”

  “Us?” Izzie made herself comfortable on the couch. This was the kind of conversation she’d been hoping to have with Zoe for a long time.

  “Your mom,” Zoe corrected. “She didn’t like being micromanaged. She never worried about image, and it drove her crazy that Bill did.”

  Izzie had avoided this question ever since Zoe showed up on the Monroes’ doorstep. “So is that why my parents broke up?”

  Zoe hesitated. “I don’t know. I wasn’t in the relationship; they were.”

  “Dad won’t talk about it. He just says they grew apart.” Izzie wrapped the pillow’s loose thread around her finger, making it tight, and then loo
sening it again. “But they weren’t together that long. How could they grow apart? Did they have a fight?” Izzie pushed. “I’m old enough to know.”

  Zoe exhaled slowly. “You’re right.” She played with the chopsticks in her hand. “It wasn’t a dramatic fight or anything. In the end, your mom just knew their relationship could never work long-term. Your dad was a rising baseball star and your mom was always going to come second to his career. She deserved to be more than just a ballplayer’s wife,” Zoe said determinedly. “The other guys on his team always had, like, three girlfriends and at least two more groupies on the side. Bill seemed faithful to your mom, but how long could that really last?”

  Her dad didn’t seem like the cheating type, but Zoe looked so annoyed Izzie didn’t want to argue.

  “We heard the rumors all summer long that he could be traded, and your mom didn’t want to do the long-distance thing. That never works. So when he got the official word he was moving on, she stopped taking his calls. She wouldn’t see him when he dropped by. I tried to talk to her, but she was determined not to be a lovesick idiot and she wasn’t willing to follow him around the country. She said it was better to break up before she got hurt. She didn’t know she was pregnant.” Zoe wouldn’t look at her. “I thought with him leaving, she’d stay, but she said the memories were too much. She left New York, and me, before I could talk some sense into her.”

  Izzie couldn’t decide how to feel. Was her mom so wrong to take control of her life? “I get why Mom wouldn’t have wanted to be number two, but when she realized she was pregnant, why didn’t she tell Dad about me?”

  “I don’t know.” Zoe stared intently at her. She looked so much like Izzie’s mom. It was an eerie feeling. “I know this is hard for you to understand, but things worked out for the best. Your parents never would have lasted, and Maureen is a doll.”

  The words stung. She loved her aunt, too, but how could Zoe be so blunt about her own sister? “Why do you hate my dad so much?”