![]() ![]() ![]() Juliet stared hard at Lowell until he looked back at her, a twitchy smile-here, then gone-the only sign that he recognized her. He was gritting his teeth as though screwing or unscrewing a bolt were an almost impossible task. “What does it look like we’re doing?” Tommy said, without taking his eyes from the wheel. “Hey, what are you guys doing?” Juliet barked out her question nervously, and it hung in the air for all of them to behold, like underwear on a clothesline. Mike was sitting on a rusty lawn chair, a stack of comic books next to him, flipping through a Mad magazine. Lowell and Tommy were sitting on the concrete under the carport, tightening, or maybe loosening, the back wheels of a go-kart that had showed up at Lowell’s house just that week. So on Friday afternoon, even though she could see that Lowell was with his new friends, Mike and Tommy Lambert, Juliet hitched up her self-confidence like droopy kneesocks and crossed the alley to his yard. Whichever way it was, she didn’t like it. Juliet had hardly spoken to Lowell in weeks, or maybe he was the one who hadn’t spoken to her. ![]()
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