Four Leaf Clover

“For a closer look.” The tag spins on its cheap white string. After a night of unabashed spying on the neighbors, this is what Clover Greer is gifted: a pair of binoculars. A girl pulls one prank—two, maybe three—and she’s shipped off to stay with her aunt and uncle in Curly Dock, Arizona, town of sameness and nauseating perfection. It’s there, with the help of the binoculars, that Clover discovers what it means to walk in someone else’s shoes . . . literally.

One of seven children and eight friends, it’s hard enough to find a seat at the table, much less a place in the world. It’s no wonder Clover’s biggest fear is that she might never matter. She matters least of all when the binoculars transport her into the neighbors’ variously mundane and equally predictable lives: Mr. Hoover, who vacuums his lawn (when a mowing isn’t enough), Miss Manners, lady with cats and proprietor of the in-home Cotillion, Tattiyana the pretty cheerleader, and even the dumb jock Evan (whom Clover does not find cute, or so she tells herself repeatedly). Prey to their feelings and mannerisms, Clover quietly learns their secrets and although forced into community service and, worse, into pantyhose and barrettes as a Miss Arugula Days hopeful, she stands up and out doing what matters most. Everyone wants a good luck charm and, if she looks closely enough, Clover can be just what this small town needs.

And vice versa.