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“Easier said than done. Oh,” I said, pulling a twenty-dollar bill out of my pocket. I held it out for him.

“What’s that for?”

“For the burger you bought the other day.”

“Right.” He took the bill without a fight and put it in his pocket. For some reason he didn’t seem happy with this exchange. “What did Cheryl Millcreek’s daughter say?”

“What?”

“You said you messaged her. What did she say?”

“She hasn’t responded. I doubt she’ll ever see my message. It’s going to be in her spam folder, or wherever non-friend messages end up.”

“You didn’t request her as a friend?” he asked.

It hadn’t even occurred to me. “Should I have?”

“Yes!” he said. “At least that will appear in her notifications. She’ll look at your pic and think you’re her niece she never remembers the name of or something.”

“You’ve already characterized her as a terrible aunt?”

“We can only hope,” he said with a smile.

I pulled out my phone to send the request, and he shifted so he was looking over my shoulder.

I clicked on the blue button. “Requested.”

“Good,” he said.

I looked up at him. He was still next to me and our noses nearly bumped. We both took a step back at the same time.

“I better go.” He nodded toward the library, where his friends were probably waiting for him.

“Yes, of course. Thanks for…” I trailed off, not sure how to explain to him just how much he had calmed me down after the Jensen thing.

“Anytime,” he said, seeming to know exactly what I was talking about. And then he was walking away. “Oh, Finley,” he said, turning around and walking backward a few steps.

Maybe he needed to go back to calling me Soccer Star because my name on his lips set off a different kind of fire. “Yeah?”

“Publish another episode. It’s an interesting story.”

I THINK HE’S LISTENED TOmy podcast!I wrote in our group chat after school that day as I was setting up to record another episode with my grandma.

Who?Lee asked.

Theo! Why would he listen to my podcast?

Because it’s good.Maxwell responded.I’ve been listening to it too. Post the one where she talks about Andrew. You haven’t posted it yet.

I sat down in my chair and pulled up my stats bar on my computer. Sure enough, my last episode now had five hits. I moved the cursor over the publish button on the waiting episode but hesitated.

“You ready for me, Finley?” Grandma asked, and I released the mouse.

“Yes, come in.”

She settled in quickly today, like she was ready to talk about Andrew. I was glad because I was ready to hear about him.

“Last I heard you lost the bet on the surfboard and so he got the privilege of taking you out. Where did he take you on your first date, and how was it?”