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Show Hannah Mae and the Mona Lisa 80 I shook my head. Colby scrunched his mouth. "Have you looked at my sketch even once? Did you look at the eyes?" ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ > 5 ^ ^ /c *? ^' I lowered my head. "Not yet," I mumbled. "I've been busy." I thought of Mr. Morris' painting of my eyes. Extraordinary eyes. One day I would invite Colby to take a look at my portrait. He'd love to meet Mr. Morris. He'd love to see how Mr. Morris paints eyes. I glanced at my watch and changed the subject. "Where did you put the blueberries?" I asked. "Billy's mom will be coming soon." Colby's face drained white. "I forgot the blueberries," he gasped. "Colby, you didn't!" He nodded, his eyes wide, his brow knit. "Mrs. Waltmp needs the blueberries by four o'clock!" I scowled. "Colby Jones, you have the sorriest excuse for a brain in Willard County." I looked at my watch. "Get in the tmck this minute and hurry to Parker's." Colby hung his head. "I'll never make it in time." "Take the highway," I ordered. "And hurry! I'm not about to let you spoil the best day of my life." Colby hesitated. I clenched my fists into tight balls. "Colby Jones, I've just about wasted my whole Mny life making a way to help you with this stupid vegetable stand, and I'm not about to throw it away." I patted my pocket. "I have in my pocket an invitation to a party at Billy Waltrup's place as well as a check for five hundred dollars for my trip to |