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And so, I start to laugh. Embarrassed, I clap a hand over my mouth.

Quint grimaces. “That bad?”

“No,” I say, daring to take one more step. He shoves his hands into his pockets and takes a step toward me, too. “I mean, you’re no John Lennon. But I’ve heard worse.”

“I’ll accept that.” He squeezes one eye shut. “Can we talk? Um… somewhere else?”

I take in a long breath, and nod.

The auditorium is empty and eerily quiet once Quint shuts the door. I walk a little ways down the aisle, needing distance, needing space to calm my thundering heart, before I turn to face him.

He’s leaning against the door. His expression is positively tortured.

“I was awful,” he says, before I can say anything. “I was mean. I was trying to hurt you, and I said all those things, and…” He inhales deeply. “I’m so sorry, Prudence. I didn’t mean them.”

I look away. The apology is so sudden, so fast on the heels of his song, that my emotions have tangled together. I’m nothing but a ball of feelings. I want this apology, I do, but it doesn’t feel earned. Not exactly. Not yet.

“Are you sure about that?” I ask.

“Prudence…”

“No, really. You can’t tell me you hadn’t thought those things about me, probably a thousand times before you actually said them. Critical, judgmental, selfish…”

He winces and his head falls. “I… yes, I used to… but I don’t…”

“The thing is, Quint.” I brace myself. “I’m not sure you said anything that wasn’t true.”

He shakes his head.

“Except the thief thing. I didn’t take that money. But… I did think about it.”

His gaze snaps back to me, surprised.

“Not for me or for my parents. I thought I would use it to buy Maya’s earring back for her. And honestly, I still don’t know whether that would have been the right thing to do or not.”

His brow furrows thoughtfully. “Well, the right thing probably would have been to talk to my mom about it. She would have helped get the earring back.”

I stare at him, momentarily dumbfounded. How does he do that? This ethical dilemma that had me tied in knots… how can he solve it so simply, so easily?

“Huh,” I say. “It probably should have been given to you.”

Quint frowns. “The money?”

“No. Never mind.” I squeeze my eyes shut. It doesn’t matter if the power of cosmic justice was given to me, and it doesn’t matter that I very well might have been the wrong person to wield it. I’m fairly certain it’s gone now. “I was just thinking that your moral compass might be a bit more finely tuned than mine.”

Quint waits for me to look at him again before responding, “That’s a weird thing to say.”

“I know.”

“But, thanks?”

“Look, my point is, those things you said about me before… I don’t want them to be true.” My voice squeaks, and I know I could start crying any minute. “I want to be someone who’s kind and forgiving. The sort of person who sees the good in other people, rather than… casting judgment all the time.” I smile sadly. “And when I’m around you, I become more like that person.”

I swipe at my eyes before any tears can fall. Take in a deep breath. Then wave my hand at Quint. “Okay. Now that I said all that… you can go back to telling me how sorry you are. I probably shouldn’t have interrupted.”

His expression starts to relax. “You do make it hard to give you compliments, you know that?”

I raise my eyes toward the ceiling. “So I’m difficult, too?”