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“Did you have a favorite role of mine?” I ask instead.

He fiddles with the radio. “That’s like asking me about my favorite D&D campaign—I love them all. But if I had to choose…I guess I’d say when you played that little girl inMary Poppinsin seventh grade. You were just perfect.”

I swallow hard. I’d been so nervous to play Jane Banks in that show. It was my first performance in a lead role and I was scared I’d forget my lines or accidentally drop my British accent halfway through a scene. Mom brought such a huge bouquet of flowers after that I could barely hold them, and everyone was coming up to congratulate me or give me hugs that…well, I’m not sure I remember Dad being there at all. Did he come up to talk to me after? Or maybe he only talks to other people about me.

I debate telling him about the musical being canceled this year, and my plans to bring it back. Mom wasn’t pleased when I told her, but I wonder if Dad would be more supportive since he just said how much he loves my theater roles. But I can’t rule out the possibility he’d turn around and tell Mom. They don’t speak much, but they did talk about theWaitressincident, so it could happen again.

I bite the inside of my cheek, deliberating.

“Riley,” Dad says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I just want you to know how happy I am that you’re working at the store. I love getting to see you more during the week and the customers love it too. Fred and Arthur won’t stop raving about you! I think they like you more than me.” He chuckles as he pulls into the parking lot. “Who knows, maybe after these eight weeks are up you’ll decide you like it at the store so much you’ll want to stay on.”

Any thoughts of coming clean about the musical fade away. Because if I do convince the school to bring back the musical, and I’m allowed to return to theater after probation, there’s no way I can have a part-time job and also be student director of the show. More importantly, there’s no way I’d want to. But Dad is smiling at me with such thinly veiled hope that I can’t find it in myself to say any of that.

Chapter Fourteen

Minutes later we’re walking into the store and somehow Nathan has beat us here again. Dad looks between Nathan and me with a little too much interest.

“I’m going to work on payroll in the back. Call me if youneed me,” he says, casting one last glance over his shoulder.

I sit down behind the counter, next to Nathan, and tell myself to chill out. There are way too many emotions rolling around inside me right now between that conversation with Dad and what happened with Nathan outside school. Everything is okay, I remind myself. It’s just Nathan. It’s just the store.

“How do you always get here so fast?” I ask him.

He looks over the top of his glasses at me. “That’s a secret.”

I snort. “You’re obnoxious.”

“Did you already forget? You’re only allowed to insult me if you’re using that quiet voice you have when you’re pretending to flirt with me.”

My heart spikes. I use a special voice? I decide to ignore that comment and pull out my English homework instead.

“Sophia texted that she might come by tonight.”

I look up. “But it’s not a D&D night.”

“I know.” He shrugs, but I can tell from his expression that he’s pleased.

“Oh. Cool.” I fight to control my tone. They’re texting each other? Whatever this weird feeling is that I’m having around Nathan, I can push that aside. But it’s hard to forget how she acted last time—trying to use him for free stuff. Which reminds me…I pull out twenty-five dollars and slide it across the counter to him. That’s way more money than I would have paid for dice, but they’re undeniably gorgeous, so I can understand the price.

“For the dice.”

He frowns and pushes the money back toward me. “No, it’s not a big deal. Keep your money.”

“You’re not buying things for me. I’m giving you this money even if I have to shove it in your mouth and tape it closed.” I hold it out to him.

“Wow, calm down. I’ll take the freaking money.” He reaches for it and pauses. “Wait, did you paint your nails to match the dice?”

I close my hands into fists, embarrassed. I’d come up with the idea late last night. I have all the polish colors that are in the dice, and I was curious about whether I could swirl themtogether on my nails the same way they did with the dice. It’s definitely not professional-looking, but I think I did a decent job.

“Let me see.” He puts out his hand, palm up.

I hesitate and then place my hand in his, ignoring the fact that my heart speeds at his touch. My heart would speed up no matter who was holding my hand.

“You did a great job. Maybe you should help me paint my Warhammer models sometime.”

“The old polish was chipping.”

“Hey, guys, I could use some help with—” Dad’s voice breaks off when he sees Nathan holding my hand. He looks between the two of us and we rip our hands away.