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heavy eyeliner and said, “I don’t get it. Why’d you tell Darlin your name was Ariel?”
    “Because my name is Ariel,” she said.
    “Your name is Kimberly,” I said.
    She waved her fingers in the air. “On my birth certificate, sure. But my spiritual name is Ariel.”
    I handed my walkie-talkie and my cash bag to Darlin, raising my eyebrows like are you getting this?
    Darlin smiled and placed my things on the hall table. She picked up a Styrofoam container of what looked like Uno’s cheese sticks and dipped one in marinara. “My real name is Deirdre,” she said. “ Such a bad fit. I changed it to Darlin when I was twenty-nine.”
    “‘Darlin’ is a thousand times better than ‘Deirdre,’” Kimberly/Ariel said. “So much softer.”
    I stared at them both.
    “Cheese stick?” Darlin said, holding out the box.
    “No, thanks.”
    “I’ll take one more,” Kimberly/Ariel said.
    I watched her scoop up a blob of marinara, and I thought, Wait a minute, I didn’t bring those to Darlin. And Darlin didn’t ask Kimberly to bring them, either, because I’d have overheard it if she had. Which meant that Kimberly thought to bring them on her own.
    I folded my arms over my chest. Good ol’ Kimberly had brought Darlin cheese sticks, while in all the chaos I’d forgotten Darlin’s Reuben completely. Although why should it matter? It wasn’t like I owned Darlin. Other people could do nice things for her, too. Still, my mood plunged from bad to worse.
    “Well, good night,” I said, wanting suddenly to be gone. I slipped out of my caterer’s jacket and headed for the door.
    “Yeah, I’ve got to go, too,” Kimberly said. “Hold on, Lissa. I’ll walk out with you. Bye, Darlin! See you next weekend!”
    Outside, she jogged to catch up with me.
    “Thanks for helping me tonight,” she said as I climbed into my truck. “I thought I knew Atlanta pretty well, but obviously I don’t.”
    I gave her a tight smile. She was blocking me from shutting the door.
    “Seriously, there are so many streets that I’ve never even heard of. Argonne Drive, Tuxedo, Slaton . . .” She rose up on her toes, peering into the truck. “Hey, what are you reading?” she asked, spotting my dream book on the dashboard.
    I grabbed the book and hid it in my lap, but part of the title must still have been visible. Her eyes dipped down and she said, “Dreams. Cool. I didn’t know you were into that stuff.”
    My face grew hot. “I’m not.” The receipt was still sticking out, and I tugged it free and crumpled it in my palm. “I just . . . I happened to run across it and . . . I’m not .”
    “Okay,” Kimberly said. “Whatever.” She hesitated, then tilted her head. “Listen, it’s not even ten o’clock. You want to do something? Go get some Krispy Kremes?”
    I wanted to get Krispy Kremes with Kimberly about as much as I wanted to return to Cost Cutters for an entire beauty makeover. I put the key in the ignition and started the truck. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m beat.”
    “Yeah, okay,” she said. She stepped away from the truck, and for a second I felt bad, especially when I saw that she was blushing.
    But it wasn’t my problem. I shifted into reverse and backed out of the drive.

CHAPTER 5
    ALL DAY SUNDAY I STAYED IN THE HOUSE. I did my homework, mainly, and helped Beth with hers. Then, after dinner, I tried to read the first chapter of my dream book. It was interesting, but I’d lost my earlier enthusiasm. It bugged me that Kimberly had seen my book. That she, of all people, thought it was “cool.”
    But that’s dumb, I told myself. It was like saying, “Ew, she touched my cupcake, so I don’t want it anymore.” Still, I closed the book.
    On Monday, I woke up late and had to rush to get dressed. I’d hoped my hair would somehow look normal again, but if anything, it looked worse. In some places it lay matted to my head, while in other places it did this awful winged-back thing, and nothing I did could make