Page 24 of Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail

“Though ‘Summer Nights’ isn’t quite nailing it on the head.”

“I think that’s supposed to say ‘SummerSchool.’ ”

Astrid laughed and set the candle down. She felt herself relax asthey moved on to the next stall. She could do this. Shewasdoing this. She was smiling, and she and Jordan were getting along and—

“Okay, now,thisis what I’m talking about.” Jordan stopped in front of a stall draped with dark fabrics, its table littered with all manner of Victorian kitsch. She held up a truly monstrous clock, all tarnished brass and ornate embellishments. Tiny fairies ran amok across the entire clock’s surface like a scene out ofA Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Astrid just blinked at her.

“Oh, come on,” Jordan said. “This fits the Everwood.”

“It fits the Everwoodnow,” Astrid said. “Not the Everwood we’re trying to create.”

“You’retrying to create.”

“Good,” Natasha said from somewhere behind Astrid. “Perfect.”

Astrid tried to breathe normally, but this was not good, and it most certainly was not perfect.She’d rather go back to sniffing the lunchroom candle.

“This clock is wrong,” Astrid said, standing her ground.

“Again, foryou,” Jordan said.

“Are we really going to do this every single time we need to make a decision?” Astrid asked. “Me against you, old against new, spooky and outdated against clean and modern?”

Jordan smirked. “Nice choice of adjectives there, Parker.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yes, I hear what you’re saying. I just don’t like it.”

“We have a job to do.”

“So let’s do it.”

They stared at each other, facing off while Natasha uttered infuriating encouragements.

“We’re not getting this hideous clock,” Astrid said. She was going to win this argument, goddammit, if it was the last thing she did.

“And I say we are.”

Okay, so apparently Jordan was set on winning too.

“We can find a place for it,” Jordan went on. “Surely, there is some room, some corner where your precious virgin eyes won’t have to look at it too often, where we can—”

“I’m sorry,virgin eyes?”

Jordan shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to deflower your delicate sensibilities.”

Astrid’s blood felt hot, and not in a good way. In asomeone-just-spilled-coffee-on-my-favorite-dresskind of way. How dare this woman treat her like she was some weak-willed child in need of handling?

“My sensibilities aren’t delicate, thank you very much,” she said through gritted teeth, “and you can keep your god—”

“Okay, cut,” Emery said, pulling off their headphones. “Let’s take ten. I think we could all use some coffee.”

Astrid nodded but turned away so she could get a few deep breaths and stuff all the swear words tumbling through her head right now back into her mouth. Her limbs were trembling, and her eyes felt like they might fill with tears at any moment.

“Are you all right, dear?” A woman from the clock stall appeared from behind a curtain and was now peering at Astrid with concern.