Page 16 of Jack
“Six. Six gigantic, millennial years older than me.”
“Which would have made him twenty-four when you were a senior.”
“Actually, at that time, he was twenty-three, but I had only just turned eighteen, so . . .” She lifted a shoulder. “I was young and . . .”
“She had a major crush on Jack most of our childhood,” Boo said.
“Really.” Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Well, what’s not to like? He’s . . . off the charts. Those blue eyes, that dark run-your-fingers-through-it hair, and he clearly works out. What does he do for a living?”
“He finds lost people,” Boo said.
“For money,” Harper added. “He’s a rewardist.”
“What is that?” Penelope shoved the pillow behind her and picked up her phone, as if to search.
“It’s a person who makes a living off the reward money people put up asking for information leading to . . . you know, the recovery of someone who has gone missing.”
“That’s a profession?”
“You’ve heard of Crime Stoppers, right?” Boo said.
“Of course I have. But I thought they just aggregated tips.”
“They also organize all the postings and manage the rewards. Jack has a husband-and-wife team, both lawyers, who find him jobs. Lives in a schoolie that he renovated himself when he finished law school.”
“So he’s like a PI,” Penelope said, putting her phone down.
“Sort of, but he’s not credentialed. So he has to be careful. He can’t make arrests, can’t interfere with a police investigation, and has to share with the police everything he digs up. He was top of his class at the U, so he knows the law, even though he didn’t pass the bar.”
Penelope held up a hand. “Okay, so—I’m going to need more about this prom thing.”
“It’s nothing.” Harper had opened up her satchel, started to unpack.
“It’s obviously something. Why would you ask a guy out of college to your senior prom?—”
“I didn’t ask him. But . . .” She glanced at Boo, sighed. “I did think he liked me.”
“Why?”
She shook her head. Even now the reason seemed so . . . immature. “Because I live in fantasyland—or did at the time—and I’d talked myself into a happily ever after with Big Jack?—”
“Big Jack?”
“It’s a family name,” Boo said. “He’s the oldest and in-chargest. Or was.”
“Was?”
“That is a different, also long, story,” Boo said. “But—the reason that Harp here is freaking out is that she and Big Jack kissed.”
Harper looked at her, horror on her face. “Thank you for that.”
Penelope’s eyes widened. “You did not.”
“Did,” Harper said, sighing. “Again, all on me, but when he found out I was still in high school and that I’d only just turned eighteen?—”
“Howonly just?”
“Two days before the trip.”