The look she sent me then was more knowing than I might have liked. There was a twinge of something else there, too—pity, perhaps, or compassion. But before she could comment her eyes flickered to the clock behind me. “s**t, my mam is waiting in the car outside—”
“No worries. I’ll be here tomorrow when you bring the film back.”
And then she was gone, leaving my stomach reeling in her wake.
* * * *
I brushed my hair the next afternoon, twenty minutes before the time Julia had popped in the day before. I was waiting behind the counter when she arrived and offered her the warmest smile I could muster, my heart accelerating when she threw me a timid wave before bouncing toward me.
“There’s a spring in your step today,” I noted, leaning back in my chair. “What’s up?”
“Well, it’s Friday, i
