When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see the boy from the woodcraft booth. The one I'd deemed a possible convert. He had kind brown eyes and shaggy hair that was the same woodsy shade as his eyes. Not surprisingly he smelled earthy, and timber-like. My Father was a logger for our commune, which is to say he split logs all day. This boy didn't smell like Father though. It was a much more polished, inviting scent, I thought.

"I'm Griffin." He looked very concerned, so I tried another little smile.

I'm Lucy. Nice to meet you."

"You look like you're having a rough day."

"Rough? I guess I am."

"Me too." He sighed and held his palms up. "Splinters." Miniscule bits of wood were wedged under his skin. It reminded me of when the lake froze and the ice was so thin I could see fish squirming beneath the surface.

"That looks painful," I agreed. "Want me to try to get them out?" The words were out before I could stop them. I chastised myself immediately. When would I ever learn my lesson? People didn't want my help. They wanted me to leave them alone. But Griffin was handing me something. "Use these," he ordered, smiling.

I took the tweezers and searched his hand for an easy sliver. There was a big one right in the middle of his palm, with the tiniest bit above the surface of his flesh. I steadied his callused, sweaty hand, then with a pinch, gave as gentle a tug as I could manage. It slid out. "One down," I smiled at him. Some of the others were trickier, but he was a good patient, and I was able to remove them all.

"You have a very steady hand." It was the closest thing to a compliment anyone outside my family had ever given me. I dropped my eyes to the ground. Focus, Lucy.

"Well, fair's fair," I tried, "now I get a favor from you."

"Gosh, I thought you were just taking my slivers out to be nice."

"Oh, I was! I mean- of course!" Stupid! I scolded. I pressed my heart, trying to stuff the guilt back in.

"Just teasing! What's the favor?"

This guy was going to do me in. Between his friendly eyes and willingness to talk to me like a normal person, I was not handling the situation particularly well. I took a huge breath. "Well, if you're willing- and if you're not, that's fine! I get it! No obligation. Seriously. But, if you want I'd love to tell you about..." this was always the hardest part to force out. Griffin looked equal parts confused and amused. I shoved the words out, "my Diety. My commune lives a different sort of life- a Diety-centric life, and I'd love to tell you about it? If you want? Or not?" Now he was definitely amused. Good grief. I could truly not be worse at this. I really couldn't. "You know what? I don't blame you. It's weird, right? Just... take care of those hands. And... all of you." All of you? What does that even mean! I turned to hurry away.

"Wait! Wait a sec!" I turned around, really wishing I could just get on with my day of rejections.

"Okay, you're right. I don't really want to hear your sales pitch. I admit it." Mortifying. I'm going to die of embarrassment.

"Got it. Okay." I tried to turn again, but he grabbed my shoulder.

"But, I do need some lunch and I hate hate hate eating alone. So if you do me the favor of keeping me company, I'll do you the favor of hearing your pitch." I considered this.

"But I already did you a favor," I pointed out. "The splinters."

"No, that was just you being a nice person. Thislunch thing is the actual favor." I cocked my head at him and tapped my footunder my robe. Something caught my eye down the road behind him. Franklin washeaded this way.