She had a mouthful of McNugget and her eyes on the parking lot when Kevin slid into the booth across from her. Ashleigh jumped a little, lost in imagining the scenario at the apartment complex.

“Easy, Ash. It’s just me.”

He smiled wide. Ashleigh had to admit she was happy to see him, even if he did make her jump.

“Are you the fry guy today?” she asked. “These McNuggets are a little dry.”

“I’ll tell the chef.”

“I was just thinking about Kollman, and what I’m going to say to him.”

“About that…”

Ashleigh understood what his words meant.

“About that?” she said. “What are you doing?”

Kevin held his hands out. Placating. Ashleigh hated being placated.

“It’s just a delay,” Kevin said.

“A delay?”

“Two people called off,” he said. “They need me to stay through lunch.”

“We made these plans.” She didn’t want to sound whiny, but she was pissed, and her voice rose beyond her control. “You know how important this is.”

“I know, I know. But the other day when we went to see this guy, I showed up late and got written up.”

“So?”

“So my dad knows the manager. They’re friends from the Optimists Club or something, and my dad gave me this big bullshit talk about not being late again.”

“You won’t be late,” Ashleigh said. “You’re already here.”

“I feel like I can’t say no,” Kevin said. “And my dad said I need to save money for a car in the fall. It’s just until three. Then we can go.”

“Three?”

“Hell, the guy probably isn’t even home. We went in the morning last time and he wasn’t there. He probably works somewhere, so if we go later we’ll catch him. Makes sense, right?”

Ashleigh looked back out the window. A minivan and an SUV pulled in. Any minute and they’d start spilling kids out their sides, the parents irritable, the kids little eating machines. What Kevin said made sense, but she didn’t want to wait.

We made plans.

“Fine,” she said. “Work until three.”

Kevin didn’t say anything. He looked around the restaurant.

“What?” Ashleigh asked.

“You know, other people have things going on in their lives. I’m offering to go with you. It will just be later.”

“Fine.” She took a long drink.

“I know what that means,” he said. “You’re pissed. I get it. I get how much this means to you. But we have to compromise sometimes, you know? Like you going to football or basketball games when I know you don’t want to. Now I’m asking you to wait for me. Jesus, just once could you give somebody a break? Could you? Like Kelcey in the park. Why lash out at people who mean well?”

Ashleigh didn’t meet his eye. He’d never spoken to her like this, and it brought an unnatural burning to her eyes, something that made her feel like a little kid.

But she wasn’t going to cry.

She wasn’t going to show it.

“It’s fine,” she said. “Just work.”

But Kevin didn’t leave. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Come on, Ash. I’m sorry-”

She pulled her hand away. “It’s fine. Go.”

He leaned back. “We can do it at three. You can hang out at the library or back home, and we can leave right at three.”

“Okay,” she said. “Really.”

She offered nothing else, so Kevin went back to work. She finished eating alone.

The bus dropped Ashleigh at the same stop as the other day-Hamilton Avenue, a few blocks’ walk from Steven Kollman’s apartment complex. She stepped out into the heat, the crappy food from McDonald’s heavy in her stomach. She’d left the restaurant without talking to Kevin. She’d handed the woman at the cash register a note, written on a thin paper napkin.

Going to library. See you at 3.

By three, Ashleigh expected-hoped-to have everything with Steven Kollman wrapped up. She could go back and meet Kevin and tell him what had happened. She could do it on her own.

But as she walked down the sidewalk toward the street where the apartment complex sat, she started to doubt the wisdom of what she was doing. What was she going to do-a skinny fifteen-year-old girl armed with scraps of information? What would she do if the guy was a rapist or a killer?

But she wouldn’t turn back. Couldn’t and wouldn’t.

It meant too much and she’d waited too long.

Ashleigh remembered the building. The cooking smells in the hallway were worse than what she ate at McDonald’s. Everyone seemed to have their TVs blaring. She didn’t want to think about what went on behind all those doors, the empty, boring lives led by people with nothing better to do than watch TV all day.

But was her grandpa any different? And what right did she have to come down on these people so hard? Maybe they were like her grandpa and had lost their jobs or had someone close to them die, leaving them to fend for themselves.

Ashleigh stopped on the first landing. She knew she judged others harshly, even went so far as to look down on anyone she considered stupid or ignorant-and as far as Ashleigh was concerned, that meant a lot of people.

But what if Kevin was right? What if she never gave anybody a break? Her mom, her grandpa, Kevin, Kelcey, the kids at school. People she didn’t even know as she walked through her life. Maybe this guy, Steven Kollman, was one of those people. Someone who had been dealt a bad hand, never given a chance by the world, and so he ended up living in a dumpy apartment building in Dove Point, Ohio.

Ashleigh hoped to find out soon enough, so she resumed her climb up the stairs.

She had taken just a few steps when she heard the whooshing sound. It repeated itself rhythmically- whoosh whoosh whoosh. Ashleigh couldn’t place it, but it sounded like it was coming from the top floor, where Steven Kollman lived. She moved past the second landing, and the noise increased. When the third floor came into sight, Ashleigh had a pretty good guess as to what the noise was.

Steven Kollman’s apartment door was wide-open. Three large dark garbage bags sat just outside of it. They looked to be filled to bursting. Every time the whoosh sound came again, a puff of dust and dirt came out the door of the apartment like a little cloud. Someone was cleaning Steven’s apartment. Really cleaning it.

Was it Steven?

Or…

The sweeping stopped, and the familiar head of the building manager popped out of the apartment door. For a short moment, it looked like he didn’t know who Ashleigh was and wanted to ask her what she needed. But then recognition spread across his face. His eyes brightened and his eyebrows raised behind the loose-fitting glasses.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said. “Steven’s…what? Are you his cousin or something? I forget.”

“Something like that,” Ashleigh said.

“Where’s your friend?” he asked.

“Oh, he’s at work.”

She regretted telling the truth as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She should have thought on her feet and told a lie. She could have said he was in the car or waiting outside or on his way to meet her. But the man now knew she was alone. She was halfway up the staircase, between the third and second floor, so the manager and his blandly happy face loomed above her. He came all the way out and set the broom down, leaning it against the wall. He wore a red T-shirt and great blotches of sweat encircled the area of his armpits.

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