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suspicion that my five-second flirt with dating her super-hot brother was over. But she did know about last period.
    “So you’re going to the dance with Julian LaSalle?” She eyed me curiously.
    “Yeah. I’m doing a feature on his art for the newsblog. It’s just research.” I hadn’t thought about the ethics of dating my subjects. Much.
    “Sounds like a fun field,” she winked. “Didn’t he make the dolphin in the quad?”
    I nodded. Last year Julian had designed a patchwork dolphin made up of discarded pieces of driftwood, copper, and metal roofing, and it turned out so well, the principal had it planted on the school grounds.
    “He’s really talented,” I said. “His current project is a sculpture of a runner made from different pieces of junk. Like the head is a motorcycle tire and the arms and legs are metal tubing and stuff. It sounds weird, but it looks cool. He sent me some pictures.”
    She took my phone and slid her finger across the slideshow of Julian’s art. “He does all this at school?”
    “And his house. His mom basically gave him their garage for his workshop.”
    We were quiet as Mrs. Womack passed down the row returning graded projects.
    “Are you going Friday?” I hoped she might tell me Jack’s plans.
    “Not sure,” she whispered. “I don’t really know a lot of guys here yet.”
    “Oh, well, it’s just a silly dance.” I didn’t want her to feel bad—most guys at our school were probably too intimidated to ask Lucy on a date. And after meeting her dad, I wasn’t sure they were wrong to feel that way. “I doubt I’d be going if Julian hadn’t asked me.”
    “We got an A on our project.” She smiled and turned back to her books.

Chapter 5
     
    Even if I wasn’t sure how to interpret my date with Julian, there would be pictures. And I wanted to look as hot as possible. Tamara Johnson had done my hair since we moved here, and being a local, she knew all the inside scoop. I sat in her home-salon Friday afternoon as she pulled out my curls with her big round brush and gave me the latest.
    “Julian’s so cute. I love the way he dresses. And so talented.” She winked as if she knew something I didn’t, which she probably did. “You know that running sculpture he’s working on? With the motorcycle parts? His mom said it’s been commissioned for the National Athletic Center in Darplane.”
    “That would be huge!” I had to add that to my feature on him—bonus for both of us! “Hey, I didn’t know you did Ms. LaSalle’s hair.”
    Julian got his easy, beachy manner straight from his mom. She reminded me of a French movie actress with olive skin, long dark-brown hair and dark eyes. She’d never married, not even Julian’s dad, and she was quiet and graceful. I’d talked to her a few times when I was tutoring Julian. She owned a small souvenir and original artwork store down by the water.
    “Oh, yeah,” Tamara said. “Since we were kids. Before she was Alexandra LaSalle and just went by Lexy.”
    A one-word name. Perfect. “I wonder why she’s always alone. She’s so beautiful.”
    “Mm-hm,” Tamara nodded. “Keeps to herself. Very private.”
    My mind drifted to the other loner I’d recently met. And my story idea. “Hey, what do you know about Bill Kyser? He has those twins who started at the school this year?”
    “I know those folks don’t mingle with the natives.”
    “Actually, Lucy invited me over to their house to study, and I sort of met him.”
    Tamara grinned. “Well, I will tell you this, that’s a good-looking man.”
    “But kinda mean, don’t you think?”
    “I wouldn’t know, baby girl.”
    “Do you know what happened to his wife?”
    “Meg Kyser?” Tamara looked up at the ceiling. “It’s been a long time. The official report is that she was killed in a car accident. Period. But there was some gossip drugs or alcohol was involved. I think some people even suggested she might’ve committed suicide. But that kind of stuff