CJ ran the race. She ran it with every bit of Ms. Chandran’s coaching advice pumping in her ears. Dig deep, CJ. Dig! She ignored the ache in her lungs and the burn in her legs, and kept digging until she exploded over the finish line, collapsing in a heap of exhaustion and emotion and absolute awe at what she’d just done. She’d come in second to last, and yet she’d never been prouder of herself. She didn’t feel intimidated by the greyhound girls after that.
“And I know”—CJ’s voice caught a little and she played it off with a cough—“I know what it means to have a good coach. Your one girl needs that. She deserves that.”
Wyatt looked CJ up and down again. She could tell he was impressed. “Okay, Clarke. You’re hired. I mean, not hired. No money will exchange hands, but…”
She smiled. “You will not regret this.”
“I doubt I will. But you might.”
He was smiling now. In a way that made her wonder what she’d just gotten herself into.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ve got some paperwork for you in the back. Follow me.”
Feeling triumphant, CJ stepped forward. Wyatt did not. Step, that is. He rolled his chair back from the desk. With a sweatshirt slung over the back of his chair, CJ hadn’t noticed that the reason Wyatt hadn’t stood when she’d extended her hand wasn’t because he was rude. It was because he couldn’t stand. Wyatt was in a wheelchair.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Nope,” CJ said.
She gave him a smile and followed him into the back.
The movie theater where Martha worked was a dusty old singleplex. The best thing about working there was also the worst thing: It was boring. They only showed artsy movies that weren’t exactly popular with the unsophisticated masses of their Cleveland suburb, and there were some days where not a single customer showed up. Martha hoped today would be one of those days. She’d dragged Ava to work with her because she wanted to pick her brain about Jordan’s plan with the park. Martha had concerns. So far, though, Ava was only interested in talking about Logan Diffenderfer.
“He’s violating my safe space.”
Martha slid her key into the lock and pulled the door open. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t sign up for art just to ruin your life.”
Ava followed her inside. “And yet that’s what happened. Why did he drop physics, anyway?”
Martha shrugged. She’d been wondering that herself.
“Art is the one place—the only place—where I don’t always feel completely self-conscious.”
“First of all, that’s ridiculous,” Martha said. “You should feel like a badass at all times. Second of all, show him how good you are at art and make him feel insecure. That seems like a fun way to spend first period every day.” Ava didn’t respond, and Martha seized on the four seconds of silence to change the subject. “So… I’ve been thinking about what Jordan wants to do. And also about what the developer said at the meeting.”
But that was as far as she got because that was the exact moment she noticed someone standing in the middle of the lobby. “Hi,” said the intruder.
Martha jumped. The door had been locked. Which meant that for this girl to be standing here…“Is this a robbery?”
The girl laughed. She looked to be about Martha’s age. “OMG. Hilarious. Uncle Benny told me you were funny.”
Ava leaned over. “Who’s Uncle Benny?”
Martha had absolutely no idea. “I’m sorry,” she said to the girl. “Who are you?”
“I’m Victoria.” She had an accent, though it was difficult to pinpoint where it was from. England maybe. “My uncle is your boss. Anyway, nice to meet you.”
Victoria gave a little wave. Her nails were painted a light shade of pink, and her impossibly tiny wrist was wrapped in a Tiffany charm bracelet that Martha guessed was real. That still didn’t explain why in the hell Uncle Benny’s vaguely British niece was standing in the lobby. “This is Ava. I’m Martha.”
Ava gave a slightly awkward nod. She was always awkward with new people.
“I know. Uncle Benny, Boss Ben, whatever we want to call him, told me. He said you’re named after Martha Washington. That you’re related to her. Great-great-grandmother or something.”
It was a few more years back than that. But Martha nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s so funny that you’re related to George Washington.”
Martha didn’t know why it would be funny. Not that it really mattered since she actually wasn’t related to George Washington. Only to Martha. George never had biological children. Most people didn’t seem to know or care that the father of the country wasn’t actually a father.
“I’m named after Queen Victoria. But not really. I mean, she’s not a relation. My mum just liked the name. But how funny is it that I’m named after English royalty and you’re named after American, well, not royalty, but you get what I’m saying. So, do we have uniforms?”
Martha looked at Ava, who merely shrugged. “Huh?” Martha said.
“Uniforms? Like anything that identifies us as theater employees?”
And that was how the great-great-great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter of Martha Washington learned that she had a new coworker.
“Um, no. No uniforms.”
“Too bad. I thought it would be fun to have a uniform. Oh well. I’m ready to start training whenever you are.”
Ava took that as her cue to leave. “It seems like you might be busy today after all. Talk later?”
Martha nodded. “Definitely. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Nice meeting you, Eva,” said the girl who was named after Queen Victoria but wasn’t actually related to Queen Victoria.
“You too,” Ava said politely, not bothering to correct her. She gave Martha a hug and whispered into her ear. “Don’t worry about the park. We’ll figure out how to save it. Also, that girl is weird. Text me if it gets creepy.”
Then Ava was gone and Martha was alone with the strange new girl.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE NEXT morning Ava pulled herself out of bed, poured a big bowl of Cocoa Puffs, and flopped down on the couch. The house was quiet since her mom was already out for her Saturday morning run. Not too long ago, her mom had tried to get Ava to go running with her. After several attempts, she’d finally accepted that it was never going to happen. Ava looked at her phone and saw their group thread already showed texts back and forth between CJ and Jordan about the councilman. Ava took a bite of cereal. It felt a little weird that she was the only one without a specific role in this plan. Not that she really wanted to create a fake LinkedIn profile or research the councilman. It’s just that she thought it would be nice if sometimes people pointed at her when they needed a job done. Ava was about to put her phone down when she saw the e-mail.
“Holy shit!” Ava shouted at the exact same time her mom opened the front door.
Her mom yanked both earbuds out of her ears. “What? What? What’s wrong?”
Ava read through the e-mail again just to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”