This Is What Happy Looks Like(12)

But she dreaded having to give up her spot in the course to some trust-fund kid who’d spent her summer lying by the pool at a country club. There was no way she couldn’t go, and there was no way she could ask Mom to help make up the difference when they were just getting by as it was. It only made it worse that Ellie knew she’d say yes. It didn’t matter what she needed to do—sell the shop, donate a kidney, rob a bank—Mom would make it happen, which was precisely why Ellie could never, ever ask her.

Since school had let out, she’d started to become more desperate, working all day at one job or another, and then babysitting at night. She could see that Mom was worried about her new industrious streak, the way that work was taking over her summer.

“You’re sixteen,” she said. “You should be out getting into trouble.”

“I’m fine,” Ellie told her, again and again.

Now, as they stood there on opposite sides of the counter, the wind chimes tinkling in the breeze from the window, Ellie was sure they were about to stumble into the discussion once again, the same one that had lately been running on an endless loop like a bad recording. But there was a reluctance in Mom’s eyes that matched Ellie’s own. Neither of them wanted to talk about this; neither of them wanted to argue.

So when the door banged open, Ellie whirled around with a rush of relief. It took a moment for Quinn to emerge from between the T-shirts that were hanging near the register, and when she did, Ellie could see that her face was flushed.

“Okay,” she said, her hands held up as if she were about to perform a spell. “Okay, okay, okay.”

Mom leaned forward and turned to Ellie. “Is she having a nervous breakdown?”

“This is serious, Mrs. O,” Quinn said, sinking onto a blue beanbag chair. “This is, like, a dire emergency.”

“Is everything okay?” Mom asked, still looking relatively unconcerned. Ellie and Quinn had been best friends since they were five, and if the O’Neills had learned one thing in that time, it was that Quinn had a flair for the dramatic. Her definition of an emergency was a little more flexible than everyone else’s.

“Okay?” Quinn said, her eyes widening. “I have a date with Graham Larkin.”

There were a few beats of silence as this announcement settled over them. The moment Quinn said his name Ellie was surprised to be reminded of those eyes of his, and she blinked hard to shake loose the memory. Just behind her, Mom was shrugging her shoulders, mystified.

“Who’s Graham Larking?” she asked, and Quinn gave her a stern look.

“Graham Larkin,” she said, “is only one of the biggest stars in the world.”

Ellie laughed at the expression on Mom’s face, which was still utterly blank. “He’s in those magician movies,” she explained, “and now he’s the star of whatever they’re filming here.”

“And you’re going out with him?” Mom said to Quinn, who raised and then lowered her chin. “I haven’t been outside all day. Are there movie stars just wandering around town looking for dates?”

“He was in Sprinkles,” Ellie explained. “And he must have thought Quinn was at least as irresistible as the ice cream. By the way, who’s watching the shop?”

Quinn waved a hand in the air, as if this were a matter of little importance. “I left Devon there,” she told them. “He said he could handle it on his own. I need your help to get ready.”

Ellie couldn’t help feeling sorry for poor Devon Alexander, who’d been in love with Quinn for years now, and probably had no idea he was covering their busiest hours alone so she could get ready for her date with a movie star.

“Well,” Mom said, grabbing a red rubber ball from the jar beside the register and tossing it absently from one hand to the other, “you’ve come to the right place. I’m proud of my daughter for a great many things, but most particularly for her fashion sense…”

“Very funny,” Ellie said, glancing down at what she was wearing: a jean skirt, a plain white tank top, and black rubber flip-flops, which was pretty much her summer uniform.

“I really just need her for moral support,” Quinn said, hopping to her feet. “Is it okay if she knocks off early?”

“I just got here…” Ellie began, but Mom was nodding.

“It’s okay,” she said, still juggling the red ball. “Really. We can’t send Quinn off on a date with a major celebrity without a little help, can we?”

There was a teasing note in her voice, but Quinn was too distracted to pick up on it. “Exactly,” she said, rocking back on her heels. Everything about her was wound too tight, and she couldn’t stop fidgeting. “I mean, it’s a big deal. You should’ve seen all the cameras at the shop this afternoon. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like tonight…”

Mom fumbled the ball, which fell to the floor, glancing off a bin full of snorkeling gear and then rolling off into a corner. “Cameras, huh?”

“Yeah, tons of them,” Quinn was saying, while Ellie remained frozen, her gaze focused on the wooden floor in an attempt to avoid Mom’s eyes. “They’re all camped out by the set right now, but I’m sure they’ll be following him around later.” She paused, not noticing the strained look on the faces of her audience. “Paparazzi in Henley. Crazy, right?”