Evan saw it first. Clarification: saw her first. On the Ol' Wagon Wheel ride. But in typical Evan-speak, he did the lame-joke thing.

"Hey, Alex," he called, leaning over the side of their creaky, swinging basket. "There's a girl two carts down who stole something from you."

Alex did a fast calculation and came up blank. Her money was in her jeans pocket. Her backpack was stashed in the gear house at the bottom of the Ferris wheel. She folded her arms across her chest, waiting for the punch line. "Okay, Ev, I'll play. What'd she steal? My Stratocaster, SUV, or cell phone?"

Evan pointed down. "Your face."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Don't quit your day job, Evan. Comedy Central is not scanning the globe for you," she said, rubbing a sudden rash of goose bumps on her arm.

Lucinda flipped around to check. "Get outta here! Alex," she shrieked. "He's right. She looks just like you—"

"Only cleaner," Evan teased.

"Could you be any less funny?" Alex challenged. But her stomach lurched nervously, or maybe it was just the cart swinging in a gust of wind. "Nobody looks like me," she declared, going along with the joke. Although—between the goose bumps and fluttery stomach—she was acting way cooler than she felt.