But then she stopped.
Because Everett Knox, the giant biker everyone had silently judged, looked more frightened than anyone else there.
Not frightened of Junie.
**Frightened he might scare her.**
Slowly, he put the nozzle back into the pump. Then he lowered himself onto one knee, careful and gentle, so his huge shadow no longer covered the child.
His voice came out low and soft.
“Well,” he said, “I guess that depends. What kind of bear are you looking for?”
Junie’s face brightened.
“A nice bear.”
Something passed over Everett’s expression. Pain, maybe. Or memory.
Then he gave the smallest, softest growl.
“Grrr.”