My phone rang right as we hit the food court around one. I rushed to answer. "Miss Jenkins?" came a familiar voice.

"Yes?"

"This is Mr. Scott from the salon. I spoke to my wife, and she wants to hire you."

"I got the job?"

"Yes. I'll discuss the particulars with you in person. Would you be able to come by this afternoon?"

"Yes, I will. What time?"

"Would an hour from now work with you?"

I glanced at the girls. "That should work fine. I'll see you at two, sir." We said our goodbyes and when I hung up, the girls began pelting me with questions. I told them to wait until we sit down to eat. They managed to contain themselves at least that long. Once we were all seated, I glanced around at them. "I got a job working for Mr. Scott at the salon."

Amanda squealed. "Yay! He's a dream to work for. He treats all of his employees like family. I would work there, myself, but I'm no good at anything related to nails, hair, or makeup. Rebecca is, but she's content to just do my hair and nails."

Susan, going into her usual theatrics, gave me a huge squeeze and then held me at arm's length. "You are going to be so good, Daisy. Do you know what that means?" Before I could respond, she answered herself. "It means that you're going to be a manicurist and makeup artist before the end of the year!" She sat back down and began calmly eating a burger, the dramatic actions dropped.

It was all I could do to not rain on her parade. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be that good, and there was no way I was going to be learning all of that immediately, anyway.

---

Mr. Scott was waiting at the front desk for me. He checked his watch. "A minute early. Good," he said. "Follow me." I followed him down a short hallway and into a cluttered office. An older woman around his age sat inside. She looked as if she were extremely tired. Mr. Scott instructed me to sit and, once I did, walked behind the lady and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Betty, I want you to meet the girl that wants to be our new receptionist."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Jenkins," Mrs. Scott said. "I hear you're up to eventually becoming one of our stylists."

"Yes, I am," I told her in my politest voice.

She nodded. "Well, I suppose you can start tomorrow. Trial basis, of course. If we're not satisfied with your progress after a couple of weeks, we'll let you go with good references. In the meantime, Patrick will give you some paperwork to fill out for us. Once you get that done, you can go on home. I'm sure you've probably got friends to hang out with or homework to do."

After that, she left to man the desk, and her husband provided me with a pen and so many papers for me to sign that I forgot what was on everything before I got to the last one. He informed me that when I came in tomorrow I'd begin training and some of the stylists would test me out to see what I could and couldn't do as far as nails and makeup went. Monday would be my first official day on the job.

When I left, I wanted to call George and tell him so badly, but he was working. Instead, I called Mario. The moment he answered his phone, I shouted, "I got the job!"

A moment later, he said in a pained voice tinged with excitement, "Aye, woman, tone it down. I think you may have damaged my hearing, brought deafness a year closer." He sighed with a chuckle. "Which job did you get?"

"I got the job at the salon. You know, Mr. Scott."

"That's great! When do you start?"

"I start Monday, but they want me to come tomorrow to gauge my skills."

"That sounds about right. They have a great staff of talented and accomplished stylists."

His words made me begin doubting myself. I was quiet for a long moment. "Do you think I'd be good at it?" I finally asked hesitantly.

He breathed into the phone. "I can't answer that. The last time I knew you, we were a lot younger. You didn't even know how to paint your nails back then, I don't think."

I chuckled. "How do you expect me to remember that far back?"

"Because if you can't, no one can."

I grinned and bit my lip as I walked to the bus stop. "True. Okay, well, I could paint my nails, but last year I figured out how to do a manicure by watching videos on YouTube."

He laughed. "So did everyone else, I'm sure." The bus pulled up to the stop and the doors opened with a loud whoosh. "Are you taking the bus?"

"Of course. I had the girls drop me off and I don't have a car."

"Stay right there – I'll come get you. I don't want you taking the bus."

"No, no, that's okay. I don't want you to come all the way from your house to get me."

"I'm actually at Nordstrom. I was on my way to say hi to George, but I'm on my way to get you now. I can come back later. It's fine."

"But-"

"Nope. No 'but'. I'm coming. Sit tight. I don't want you on a bus of weirdos. What if something bad happened? I'd never forgive myself."

I sighed. "Fine. I'll go back to the salon and wait for you there."

"Okay. Would you like to come back here with me?"

I pictured George's narrowed eyes and then his reaction to Amanda earlier came back to me. "No, I'd rather go home."

Silence for a minute. "Is there anything you'd like to do today?"

I smiled to myself as I pictured my favorite place. "There is one thing."

---

Mario stood next to me, leaning over with railing with one foot propped up on the lowest rail while I drew Boulder from the amphitheater. Every time I came up here, I felt myself fall more in love with the beautiful city. I was deep into my art and after a few minutes I forgot he was even standing there. When I draw, my world becomes only my pencil in my hand and whatever I'm drawing. The outside world just vanishes.

I worked on and on, lost in my world of art until my arm brushed his. The small touch snapped me back into reality. I glanced over, but he was just looking at the world below. He wasn't looking at me. I felt myself blush as I tried to get back into my drawing. After a minute or two of failing, I sighed. He looked at me. "Are you finished?"

I shook my head and tilted the pad where he could see it. "Not quite." I had most of it, all of the lines and the beginnings of the details, but it lacked a lot. "I can finish tonight at home, though. I remember it well enough. I mean, I've been up here so many times I practically have the view memorized."

He shook his head. "Things change, Daisy. It'll look different tomorrow, just like it looks different than it did last month or even last week. It never looks the same."

I looked back out at my wonderful city and thought about his words. My eyes kept catching on the buildings and trees. I realized he was right. Those trees changed, but so did the people and stories and buildings of the city beyond. "You're right," I said aloud. "It does." My voice was almost reverent. Up here, on the mountainside, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe, feel like I should only whisper so that I didn't disturb the peace. Not only did I fall more in love with Boulder up here, but I fell in love with the mountains.

Nature just has a way of breaking through every boundary, showing you things that amaze and even excite you. It made me thirst for more and more. When I was up there, I wanted to go to college to be someone who gets to travel everywhere and study everything nature has to offer. I wouldn't specialize in any one thing, but in as many things as I could. While I liked not moving as I grew up, I also hated that we never traveled farther than some ranch in Utah.

There was so much more out there, and I wanted to see it all.

Mario tapped my arm. "Ready to go?"

I took one last look from where I stood and turned back to him. "I guess."

We walked back down to his car in silence. He didn't speak until we were back in his car, on our way home. "You really love this place, don't you?"

I nodded solemnly. "More than anywhere else. The mountains are amazing." Silence settled over us again. I didn't mind the quiet as much as I used to. I'd known him for a couple of weeks, but things with him were a bit more comfortable than when I was with George. With him, there was no shortage of things to say. It was a gab-fest. With Mario, we were quieter sometimes, and I liked it.

I looked over at him. He had one hand on the steering wheel, and his other arm rested on the console next to mine. I looked at him, studying his features. His nose fit. I couldn't explain it – it just did. It wasn't too big or too small. I followed the outline down to his lips. They also fit on his face, even if they were slightly larger than mine.

I snapped my attention back to my window and, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it.

"You okay?" I looked over and he was looking at me. We were stopped for a light.

I nod. "I'm fine." I even smiled at him. Not that I had to force it or anything. It felt natural. "Wanna do something?"

He grinned and focused back on the road. "Love to. Anything in mind?"

I looked out my window. "Take me to your favorite place in Boulder."

---

"We're here," Mario announced as he parked. To our right was a building with a glass front. "This is one of my favorite places."

I read the name on the sign. "A theater? Why a theater?"

He grinned at me and got out. "I've always been fascinated by the actors and actresses, preparing for a show and then, when they do it live, every line has to be perfect. Come on." He led the way towards the building and held the door open for me.

Voices were coming from somewhere and he led me into a huge auditorium where people were on the stage, evidently rehearsing a play. I glanced around. "Are we even allowed to be in here?" I whispered.

He shook his head. "No, we're not."

"Then why are we in here?" I asked, slightly alarmed and worried someone would kick us out.

"They always let me stay when I was younger." He got a faraway look as he watched the people on stage walk around, talking and gesturing. They weren't in any costumes that I could tell. Then again, if they were only playing teens or young adults, they technically wouldn't need more than just to stylize to fit the role.

"What fascinated you so much?" I asked in a hushed whisper.

He shrugged. "It amazed me how much work went into everything. Set painting, designing, blocking, sound and audio, curtains, acting, directing – everyone has a role. No one comes in here without a clear reason. Well, except us, obviously. I loved coming here, watching rehearsals, and hearing them mess up a line, only to come see the show and hear and see everything go down without messing up their lines or stumbling. It amazed me. No two shows were ever exactly the same, either. It felt like the theater was truly alive."

I nodded as a smile tugged at my mouth. He felt about the theater like I did about the mountains and Boulder. When he put it that way, it did seem rather amazing. A lot of hard work went into a show. I just hadn't ever thought about it before. "Have you seen this show before?"

He listened to the actors below thoughtfully. "No, actually." He pulled out his phone. "I'm guessing this is the one that's opening next week." He tapped his screen for a while and then glanced at me. "If I got you a ticket, would you want to come see it with me next week?"

I smiled. "Sure."

He tapped a few more times, and, just like that, I was going to a play with Mario Lopez.

We stayed a while longer before Mario thought it best that we left. "Don't want to tempt security," he said as he held the door for me on the way out. When we left, it was late enough that we grabbed a bite to eat before heading back to my place, where he dropped me off.

Larry was waiting for me when I walked in the door. Naturally, he was the only one home. Dad was out with his friends, as was Aunt Millie. Larry had friends he usually hung out with, but sometimes he got back before I did. Tonight was one of those nights.

I opened the door and found Larry sitting on the stairs. It was his usual spot on nights like this, so it didn't startle me. His question did, though. "Why were you with Mario?"

"We were hanging out this afternoon." I started to go up the stairs, but he stood and blocked my path. "Larry, move."

He sighed. "You need to watch it. George may start wondering if something more is going on. I know I am."

I frowned. "A girl can have a guy she hangs out with. It's no big deal, really. Do you think I like Dan, too? I hang out with him sometimes."

He shook his head. "He doesn't look at you the same way Mario does."

I raised one eyebrow. "How does Mario look at me?"

Larry mirrored my expression. "Suffice to say, dear sister, that I think he likes you – really likes you. I don't know how else to put it."

My heart sped up. "You think so?"

Larry nodded. He put a hand on my shoulder. "I think you need to decide between him and George so that you can let the one you don't want down easy."

I shook my head. "Mario knows George and I are going to be going out once I turn 17. Mario seems fine with things as they are. We're just old friends getting to know each other again. We were friends the last time they lived here." I smirked at him. "Like you and Maria were."

His face turned red. "That's all we were."

"Right. How's she doing these days?"

He let out a breath. "I have no idea. She hasn't spoken to me yet. It's actually driving me crazy." For a minute, we just stood there. "Do you think," he began, "that maybe you could, I don't know, maybe get us a chance to talk? Or something?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'll see what I can do. Now, can I please go to my room?" He stepped aside. I went past him and stayed the rest of the night in my room, putting the finishing touches on the picture I had started at the amphitheater.