Jonah and I spent the rest of the night talking on the phone and coming up with ideas to save the store. There’s no magic trick to success ere. Basically, we need to do exactly what I’ve been trying to do all year—earn more money. Get more sales. Find more customers. Spread the word.

I told Jonah there’s just no other option because I’ve tried them all, but he refused to believe that. He’s taken some free business classes at the local community college just for fun over his summer breaks, and he thinks that’ll help him find ways to generate more income. He swears he has new ideas for us to try, but we’ll need a few days for him to figure them out and make an official plan. That’s the difference with Jonah and me. I just go for it, trying out ideas randomly. He makes a plan. He’s probably typing up a spreadsheet before school starts.

When I meet with April the next morning for our walk to school, I don’t even know how to start telling her all the stuff she missed. The talk with Caleb, his obsessive texts, and the explosion with his dad. The offer to buy our business and most of all – the kiss. The glorious kiss I shared with Jonah.

As soon as I see her I smile and want to dive into telling her everything, but then my tongue gets stuck in my mouth. It’s just too much information to process right now.

“How’s your head?” I ask her.

“Finally better.” She makes this exhausted face and presses her palm to her forehead. “The migraines are the worst pain ever, and the drugs they give me for them aren’t much better. It takes away some of the pain, but it makes my body all warm and tingly. Feels like I’m sunburned all over.”

“Well, I’m glad to have you back,” I say as we walk.

“Did you actually go to school yesterday without me or did you ditch?” She eyes me suspiciously, probably trying to figure out if I’m lying or not.

Before I got busted by the AP, anytime April was sick or had a migraine, I didn’t bother going to school either. My reasoning was that it’s boring to walk alone and it’s also horrible to eat lunch in the cafeteria alone. Sure, I have some old friends from my junior year that I could probably sit with, but they’ve all pretty much ditched me since last summer when I dedicated all my time to the store. Plus, skipping school has always meant more time at the store.

I put my hands on my hips. “I’ll have you know, I went to school. And I went to every single class, and I actually did all my work, too.”

“Wow,” she says, her eyes going wide. “I can’t believe you’re taking this all so seriously. I mean, I’m glad you are, but when they set you up with that detention plan I just knew you’d blow it off.”

I shrug. “I really want to graduate. Plus, now I want Jonah’s tutoring to be appreciated.” I toss my hands in the air. “So what can I do? I have to go.”

“You and Jonah,” she says wistfully. “When are you going to finally admit to liking him?”

“Well…” I bite my lip and look over at her. We stop at an intersection. April puts a hand on her hip. “Well what? Don’t tell me you’re still in denial here.”

“I’m about as far from denial as you can get,” I tell her, unable to hide my grin.

“What does that mean?”

“It means we kissed.”

“You WHAT?” April grabs both of my arms and jumps up and down, oblivious to the traffic around us, mostly students who go to our school and can totally see us standing here looking like idiots.

“I need details!” she shrieks in a rare show of crazy emotion.

I start laughing and then I’m bouncing on my toes too. “I kissed him!”

“You kissed him!”

“Also, I told Caleb’s dad to fuck off.”

April stops bouncing. “What the hell happened when I was gone yesterday?”

I hold onto my backpack straps and take a deep breath. The school is just up ahead and we always stop talking about personal things by the time we cross this road so that no one overhears us. “It’s a long story. A crazy long story that might involve losing The Magpie.”

April’s eyebrows pull together. “You’re kidding.”

I shake my head. “I wish. I’ll have to tell you during lunch, okay?”

“No way. No freaking way.” April grabs my elbow and tugs me toward the right, turning onto Main Street. “We’re getting coffee,” she says as she picks up speed.

“But…first period?” I say, but I walk alongside her. “The bell rings in ten minutes.”

“It can wait.”

If she wants to ditch class for some Starbucks down the road, I’m perfectly okay with that. I’ve been a model student for the last month. I can screw up one class period.

The moment we place our coffee orders, Jonah texts me.

 

Jonah: I have some preliminary plans for The Magpie. Want me to give them to you now so you can look over before we talk at lunch?

Me: I’m not at school…I’m at Starbucks.

Me: Please don’t be mad!

Jonah: Why’d you skip?

Me: I told April a very brief description of what happened while she was sick and she’s dying for details.

Jonah: Cool. Can I come?

 

I tilt my phone to April and let her read his text. “Absolutely,” she says, taking my phone from my hand and texting that word back to him. “I want to hear all about the hanky panky you two have been up to while I was gone.”

We sit at a table in the corner that has a view of the window facing the school, just in case any teachers or principals decide to come in here looking for students who are skipping. Jonah shows up a few minutes later, his hair a little messy from the wind.

“Hey,” he says, sliding into the chair next to me. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and I blush from head to toe.

April grins. “Spill your guts, kids. I need details!”

After Jonah assures me he doesn’t mind missing first period, we all make a promise to talk just for this hour and then get back to school for second period. Missing one measly math class shouldn’t have Mrs. Reese freaking out or anything. I’ll say I was sick and needed to come into school late, or blame it on cramps.

I start with the beginning, and tell April everything that happened yesterday. I kind of skim over the romantic parts of the day with Jonah because I don’t want to give away all of our special moments to other people. Jonah helps me tell the story in places, and when we’re done, April is just as pissed off as I am about Jack Brown’s offer to buy the store and the sleazy way he tried to get his son to win me over.

“So although I fear this is hopeless and totally won’t work,” I say, eyeing Jonah who gives me a reassuring smile, “Jonah thinks we can come up with a plan to save the store.”

“Damn right we can.” He places his notebook on the table. To my surprise, he hasn’t concocted a spreadsheet on the computer or anything, he’s just written a ton of stuff in his super small but very neat handwriting.

“We’re going to do a community outreach,” Jonah says. “Most of the store’s business is from tourists and beach goers, but how many citizens of Sterling bother to go shopping on the boardwalk on a daily basis? Not many.” He taps the paper. “We’re going to bring the whole town to you. The Magpie will become a place to stop for all of your gift giving, book buying, trinket desiring needs. We’ll have a book club, and student discounts, and social media campaigns. It’s going to be great.”

I study over his ideas, many of which I’ve never thought of myself. They’re also really good. April throws in some ideas as well, and Jonah adds them to the list.

When we’re all coffeed up and walking back to school, I get a text.

 

Mom: Sorry babe. I’ve decided to sell the store.

 

“No!” My hands tremble and tears flood my eyes.

“What is it?” Jonah says, his hand on my back. “Who texted?”

“My mother,” I say as a tear falls down my cheek. Just minutes ago, I’d been so happy and hopeful for the store. Now that dream is crushed. “She wants to sell.” I show them the text and April and Jonah are stunned into silence, which only makes me cry harder.

Then Jonah takes the phone from me and presses the call button over my mom’s name. “Talk to her,” he says, pushing the phone back to me. “Tell her to give it three more months. Promise her the store will earn at least a thousand extra dollars a month and if it does, she’ll reconsider.”

I nod quickly, trying to remember everything he just said, even though I’m pretty sure it’s hopeless. We’ve lost and Jack Brown has won. Mom answers the phone after several rings, probably because she wasn’t sure if she wanted to answer knowing I’d probably be mad.

“You can’t sell the store,” I say.

“Natalie—” Mom begins. “We’ve been over this.”

“Yes, but I’ve got a proposition for you. Tell Jack you need three months to decide.”

“Nat—”

“Tell him. He’ll wait. He has no other choice. And in these next three months, I’ll have the store earning a thousand dollars more per month. No—fifteen hundred,” I say. Jonah’s eyes widen, but he nods.

“Please, Mom.” I grip the phone to my ear as a tear rolls down my cheek. “Please believe in me. If it doesn’t work out in three months, you can sell the store with my blessing.”

“Fine,” Mom says after a long moment of silence. “You have a deal.”