"Complain about homework, yeah, that sounds like a blast," snorts Trouble. "So why don't I just make you a pie sometime?"

"Probably the most embarrassing, at least."

"Does that involve one of us traveling to the others' house?"

"Is there a story there?"

"Hah. I'm very proud to say there isn't."

"Yeah," says Trouble. "Why, is that bad?"

Andi applauds softly, giggling.

"More complicated. Involves parental permission, transit, and deciding which house."

"I could make the pie and then just bring you the pie," he suggests.

Ethan cracks up.

"Pie delivery service. All right. I still have to ask Renée if I can have you over, though."

"So what do you do besides school and reminiscing about foreign candy and avoiding making mistakes with the word 'pants'?"

"Nothing exciting," says Ethan. "The pants thing takes up a lot of concentration."

"Sure," Trouble says agreeably.

Andi laughs again. "I bet you lie awake at night rehearsing conversations."

"Do you just really like making pie and give it away so you can reuse your pie plate again sooner?"

He shrugs. "Maybe."

"You caught me," says Ethan, eyes twinkling. "It's true. I admit it."

"That is an unusual, yet productive, hobby. What kinds of pie?"

"You don't look tired at all, what's your secret?"

"Insane amounts of tea," he deadpans.

"Every kind. What kind do you want? You allergic to anything?"

"Sooooo stereotypical," giggles Andi.

"No food allergies. Don't like raspberry seeds in my teeth, though. Is rhubarb in season yet?"

"No raspberries, check," he says. "Want rhubarb? There can be rhubarb."