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The Other Boy
  • Текст добавлен: 8 октября 2016, 15:12

Текст книги "The Other Boy"


Автор книги: Hailey Abbott



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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Forgetting about the mess of broken glass, Maddy tore up the stairs to her room and slammed the door. Her heart pounded under her ribs, and her breath whistled through her nose with anger. With fists clenched, Maddy threw herself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, where a small spider was peacefully spinning a web in one corner. Everything was quiet and then . . . cheep, cheep, cheep!

“Shut up!” Maddy shouted, and bolted from the bed. Furiously, she yanked open the porch doors. The cheeping stopped. Silence again. She stood still for a second and then turned and slowly went back into the room. She laid down and reached for her BlackBerry to call 69

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Kirsten. CHEEP, CHEEP! CHEEP, CHEEP! It was never-ending. Maddy threw the phone on the bedside table and rolled over, pulling a pillow over her head. Forget it. Why was everything going wrong? She had never felt so out of place. No wonder David liked Rain better. At least she wasn’t a spoiled suburban brat. 70

Chapter Nine

!

Maddy woke up at six and lay in bed for fifteen minutes, convincing herself that she was going back to sleep. The morning had dawned clear and cool, the sun burning the dew off of the sagebrush as it climbed higher in the sky. Her porch cricket had long since quieted down—or gone to do whatever crickets do during the day—and the room was as peaceful and silent as a church. The pale sunlight painted patterns on the sheets, and the fresh breeze blew across her cheeks from the open porch doors.

She dreaded having to see David again. It was going to be humiliating. But there wasn’t any way around it. It wasn’t like she had a whole lot of other options or a choice about whom she’d be spending her days with. 71

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Maddy got up, leaving the sheets in a wad at the end of the bed, and pulled on a pair of Sevens and her favorite American Apparel scoop-neck tee. She braided her hair, letting the end hang over her shoulder before tiptoeing down the stairs to the silent early-morning kitchen. The room had a tidy, expectant feeling. Debbie’s collection of pottery vases on the windowsill stood in the sun like a still life. Maddy dumped coffee into the coffeemaker and leaned her elbows on the counter, listening to the burbling and watching dark brown droplets stream into the glittering glass carafe. It felt good to be up. She realized that she was humming under her breath.

When the coffee was ready, Maddy poured it into a thick blue ceramic mug and wrapped a roll from last night in a napkin. She pushed through the screen door and paused a moment on the porch, sipping her coffee and looking at the mist shrouding the grapevines before making her away across the grass to a path through the fields. The sandy soil felt soft under her feet, and the grape leaves brushed her bare arms, leaving little streaks of wet on her smooth, tanned skin. In front of her, birds took flight at her approach, calling into the cool morning air above the vines before wheeling back around to perch on the trellises.

Maddy reached the edge of the field and approached the shed in the clearing. But instead of going in, she 72

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wandered over to the stream and climbed onto a rock, still cool from the night. She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her coffee mug against her leg. Taking a giant bite of her roll, she stared idly at the tangled field in front of her and the mountains beyond, draped in the last strands of the morning fog. The warming sun baked the top of her head.

“Hi,” said a voice behind her. “You’re up early.”

Maddy started, nearly falling off her rock into the stream. She turned around, her mouth still full of bread. David’s curly hair looked like he had combed it with a fork, and he was wearing baggy khaki shorts and one of his apparently endless supply of holey T-shirts. He held a foil-wrapped plate in his hand.

“Hello,” Maddy said, trying not to spray crumbs. She pointedly looked away and swallowed.

“I made you some cookies.”

What? She whipped her head around, trying not to betray her surprise.

“Chocolate-chip apricot. Your mom said you were a chocolate girl.”

She couldn’t help it. “You talked to my mom?”

“Well, I had to find out what you like.” He widened his eyes innocently and took the foil off the plate. Big, beautiful cookies studded with dark chunks of chocolate and bits of orange apricot were arranged in a pile. Maddy sat uncertainly for a second. Of course she 73

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was still mad, but man, those cookies looked good. Without her mind’s consent, her hand reached out and took one. She bit into it.

Ohmygod—moist, fantastically chewy, and not too sweet. The melted chocolate chips pulled apart in goopy strands. The apricot bits added perfectly tart little zings. She finished it in about three bites and looked up. David was watching her closely.

“Well?” he asked, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth, waiting for her approval. Maddy forced her face into a frown. This is the guy who was laughing at you, remem- ber?

“Um, good,” she offered uncertainly. This wasn’t how she’d pictured her morning starting. David smiled widely. “Cool.” He pushed the plate into her hands and strode over to the shed. The big doors rumbled as he shoved them open.

Just ignore him, she thought as she carefully climbed down from the rock, brushing the last roll crumbs from her lap and placing the empty coffee mug and the plate of cookies on the ground. She joined him in the doorway. The shed looked about a hundred times better. He cleaned while I was getting my seaweed wrap, Maddy thought semi-guiltily. But it still didn’t make up for his rudeness last night, even if he had made her cookies. He must have found soap somewhere, because the floors, walls, and windows all gleamed. The place had 74

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the feel of a blank canvas. She strolled around the edges of the room, running her fingers over the smooth plaster walls and gazing through the rafters at the soaring peaked roof above. She took a deep breath, inhaling the mixture of wildflowers, soap, and old wood that permeated the air.

“Hey, listen.” David walked over slowly and stood in front of her.

She watched him warily. “What?”

“Those cookies?” He paused and stuck his hands in his front pockets.

“Yeah?”

He took a deep breath. “Well, they’re sort of a bribe.”

“What are you talking about?” She narrowed her eyes.

“I’m trying to bribe you to forgive me for last night.”

His voice was steady and calm, but his eyes looked anxious as he waited for her reaction. “I don’t know what was wrong with me. I acted like a total jerk.”

Maddy’s face grew warm, but standing in the clear morning light, with David’s sincere eyes looking straight into hers, it was hard to summon up the righteous anger that had coursed through her the night before. David dropped his chin, pouted his mouth, and looked at her with pleading, puppy-dog eyes. He looked so ridiculous and adorable that Maddy couldn’t help cracking a smile.

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“Whatever. Let’s just forget it.” She turned away, but it was too late.

“I saw that!” he said. “Come here.” Before she could react, he had pulled her against his chest in a quick hug. She jumped and pulled back. “Um—like I said, just forget it. It’s no big deal,” Maddy mumbled, completely thrown off balance by the sensation of his strong, wiry arms wrapped around her. She brushed uselessly at her hair. Her hands felt like big, awkward paws. She crossed and uncrossed her arms on her chest. Get a grip! she instructed herself. You’re acting like a sixth grader.

“So!” she said, backing up and trying for a breezy tone. “What’s the plan for today?” She perched on a barrel and crossed her legs. David shrugged and sat down on a barrel opposite her. He tilted back, balancing it on its edge. “Honestly?

I have no idea. I’ve only seen a couple tasting rooms before. What are they supposed to look like?”

“You think I know? I saw my first grapevine two days ago. It’s a room where people drink wine, right? So, like, tables, chairs, pictures on the walls . . .”

David nodded in agreement. “Maybe something to hold the wine bottles, like a rack or some shelves. . . . Hey, wait! I have an awesome idea!” He jumped up. “There are tons of vineyards around here. We should go check some of them out—like a scouting trip. You know, see what the competition is doing with their tasting rooms.”

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Maddy considered this. It was kind of a good idea. She had no idea how to begin, and anyway, it would be better than staying inside all day. She shrugged and rose from her barrel. “Okay. At least we’ll get some ideas.”

She headed toward the door. “The truck was gone this morning. I can get the keys to the Lexus though if—

what?”

David’s face lit up. “I have a better idea.”

! ! !

“You are insane!” Maddy shrieked as she pelted down the hill, David and his bicycle rapidly receding in front of her. The wind whipped her hair back from her face. She gripped her handlebars tightly and lifted her feet from the pedals, letting them spin madly on their own as the wheels hummed faster and faster. The black asphalt of the road seemed to rise up in front of her. “I’m going to diiieeee!” she yelled into the wind.

In front of her, she could see David reach the bottom of the hill and stop, resting one foot on the ground as he turned to watch her. “Ohmygod!” she panted, coasting up next to him. “That was so amazing!” She couldn’t keep her face from splitting into a huge grin.

“Bikes are the absolute best way to get around Napa,” he said. “My buddies and I once rode from San Francisco all the way up here—that’ll be our next trip.”

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Maddy leaned over the handlebars and tried to catch her breath. “Okay, sure. Just as soon as my heart attack’s over.”

David snorted laughter and their eyes met. Silence filled the moment, and then Maddy tore her gaze away. She could feel herself blushing a little.

“Look!” She pointed to a sign across the street. “Isn’t that the one we were going to look at?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve always wanted to see this vineyard. It’s supposed to be really fancy.”

After pedaling up a long, winding driveway, bordered on both sides by manicured lawns, they left their bikes next to a huge wrought-iron arch and followed the signs to the tasting room. It was in a massive stone building that resembled a medieval castle.

“This is where the knights of California lived in the Middle Ages,” David stage-whispered as they entered. Maddy stifled a giggle and pushed open the tasting room door. A few sunburned tourists in shorts looked around as they entered but after a cursory glance quickly buried their noses in their glasses of wine.

“What do you think?” Maddy asked David in a low voice. He swept the room with his gaze, taking in the high, dark wood bar that stood at one end, the brass railing and fixtures, the stained-glass windows, and the thick, dark red rugs that covered the stone floor. He grimaced. 78

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“I feel like I should be asking forgiveness for something,” he muttered back. She nodded. “It does feel like a church—not like California at all.”

“Yeah, it actually makes me want to fall asleep, not buy wine.” He pointed to a huge leather couch. “That’s my nap spot right there.”

“All right, let’s go,” Maddy said, pushing open the door again. “I think they’d kick us out if you curled up on their couch.”

Back in the bright sunshine, they mounted their bikes again. “Okay, the next one’s about two miles up the road,” David said, standing up on the pedals. He glanced at Maddy, who was fiddling with her gear lever.

“You think you can make it, little girl?”

Maddy looked up sharply, her eyes flashing with momentary anger. Then she saw his laughing face and grinned. “No, can you cawwy me, big, strong man?” she asked in a little-girl whine. Without waiting for a response, she leaned low over the handlebars and pushed off, pedaling as fast as she could. She didn’t look back for the first mile, expecting at any moment to hear the hum of David’s bike approaching behind her. But she didn’t, and when she stopped for a breather after a mile and a half, she saw that he was still a couple hundred yards back, pedaling hard. He rode up next to her, panting.

“You know,” he said, wiping his damp face with the 79

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bottom of his T-shirt and briefly revealing a flat, chiseled stomach, “I wish you wouldn’t hold me back like this. It’s really going to be a problem.”

Maddy tried to ignore his abs and concentrated on redoing her ponytail. “Sorry,” she replied airily. “I’ll try to speed up next time.”

They rode slowly, side by side for the last half mile. The wind was still and the road was deserted. A lone black-and-white cow stared at them balefully from behind a rail fence.

A trickle of sweat coursed down the side of Maddy’s face. “Whew!” she breathed when they finally reached the hand-drawn sign of their next vineyard. She eyed the white squeeze bottle strapped to the crossbar of David’s bike. “Can I have some of that?”

“Sure.” He pulled the bottle from its holder and handed it to her. She tilted her head back and squirted a long stream of water into her open mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see David watching her. She took quick aim and squeezed the bottle hard, catching him right in the face.

“Hey!” he sputtered, laughing a little and wiping his face with his forearm. “What was that for?”

Maddy smiled with satisfaction. “For calling me a snob. Now we’re even.” She leaned over and stuck the water bottle back on his bike. “Shall we?”

The tasting room was just inside the vineyard 80

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entrance. “This reminds me of a Marriott,” Maddy murmured as they stared inside. The room was tiled in beige and white, with a light wood bar and some long, modern tables. The walls were partially glass, which flooded the space with light, but it hardly felt cozy.

“Actually,” David said, “the lobby of my grandma’s retirement home kind of looks like this.” His voice echoed against the high ceiling. The redheaded woman behind the bar shot them a dirty look.

“Look,” Maddy whispered, “we’ve made a friend already.” The redhead was polishing wineglasses while glaring at them.

She cleared her throat. “If you want to taste wine, you’ll have to show proper ID,” she called in a nasal voice.

“Shoot!” David slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Of all the days to forget my wallet! I guess we’ll have to skip this one.”

The woman scowled and Maddy grabbed David’s elbow. “Thanks anyway!” she called, and hustled out the door. She dropped her hand once they were outside and punched him on the bicep. “Nice going, Mr. Suave.”

David shrugged and grinned down at her. “She’s just mad because her tasting room looks like an old folks’

home.”

Maddy realized that they were walking companionably down the vineyard path together, side by side, their 81

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arms swinging easily and their hands almost touching. What had happened this afternoon? She’d been prepared to be furious but then he’d caught her off guard with those cookies. And all of the biking and scouting had turned out to be pretty fun. You’re still in Napa, Maddy reminded herself. “Fun” is relative. Her BlackBerry beeped in her pocket, interrupting her thoughts. She glanced at the screen: Kirsten.

“Hey,” she answered breezily.

“Ohmygod, are you totally miserable?” her friend squealed in her ear.

“We miss you soooo much!” a voice called from the background.

“Tell Morgan I miss her too,” Maddy said. “Yeah, it sucks up here.” Some part of her felt sort of guilty saying that, like she was lying or something. She didn’t look at David. “I’m, um, getting used to it though.”

“Do you—” There was a crash on the other end of the phone and some scuffling. Morgan came on the line, panting a little.

“I told Kirsten I wanted to talk,” she said. “So, have you met any hotties to keep you busy?”

“Um, not really.” She glanced at David, who had already reached the bikes and was fiddling with his lock. Morgan sighed. “Too bad.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll survive, I think.”

David looked up at Maddy and opened his mouth to 82

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say something. She flapped her hand at him and turned her back quickly. “Look, chica, I have to go—call you later, okay?” She pressed end before Morgan could respond. She walked over to the bikes.

“So, it’s one already,” David said, glancing at his Swiss Army watch. “What’s our next adventure?”

Maddy couldn’t believe how fast the morning had gone, and that she’d actually had a good time. She swung her leg over her bike. “I don’t know about you, but my next adventure is to find some lunch—I’m starving.”

David mounted his bike also and followed her slowly down the road back toward home. “Well,” he said from behind her, “we could go eat at your place, if that’s okay with you.”

Surprised, Maddy turned partly around to look back at him, causing her bike to wobble dangerously. “Um, sure,” she said cautiously. “That’d be okay.”

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Chapter Ten

!

Back at the house, Maddy hurriedly peered into the fridge while David was upstairs washing his hands. Tuna salad was too messy. Leftover homemade pizza? Not very appealing—she’d smell like garlic. Then she stopped. Why did it matter if she smelled like garlic or stinky feet or Thierry Mugler Angel, for that matter?

She had just grabbed the jar of Skippy when she heard David’s footsteps thumping down the stairs.

“PB&J?” he asked, eyeing the jar in her hand. The curls at his hairline were damp from washing his face. His skin glowed from the sun and the exertion of the morning. Maddy wondered if he’d somehow brushed his teeth too, because he smelled fresh and minty. She shrugged, frowning at the peanut butter jar. 84

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“I can’t think of anything else.” She took the bread from the stainless-steel bread box on the counter.

“Hmm.” David stared into the fridge. He quickly pulled out a plastic tub of olives, a wedge of hard white cheese with a red rind, and a bowl of radishes. He set everything on the counter and gently took the bread from her hand. Maddy stood in the middle of the floor, staring like an idiot. She shook herself and sat down at the table, watching David inspect the bread.

“Nice sourdough baguette—someone in your house has good taste,” he said, ripping off two big hunks and wrapping them in a paper towel.

“I guess this means you’re making lunch,” Maddy said from her spectator’s seat. David glanced over.

“If you don’t mind . . .”

She held her hands up. “Be my guest.”

He sliced the cheese and radishes and put them in a plastic Tupperware container. Then he searched through the drawers until he found a short, thin knife and chopped the olives into bits, his hands moving quickly and confidently. He mixed the chopped olives with a little olive oil, a squeeze of a lemon from the bowl on the windowsill, and a smashed clove of garlic and spooned the whole mess into another container.

“A little olive tapenade for our bread and cheese,” he said, turning to Maddy, who realized she had been 85

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watching with her mouth hanging open a little. She shut it abruptly and got up.

“Wow,” she managed. “Definitely better than PB&J.”

David grinned at her and started stuffing things into a grocery bag. They grabbed bottles of cold SmartWater from the fridge, and by tacit consent headed out through the vines to the banks of the little stream. For a while after they plopped down on the soft grass and spread out the food, they just chewed quietly, staring straight ahead. Some of the ease of the morning had disappeared, and the silence stretched out until it became a little awkward. Maddy surreptitiously glanced over at David. He was picking through the container of radishes. He flicked one with a brown spot away over his shoulder. Maddy flipped her hair behind her shoulders and took a bite of the thick, chewy bread and tangy cheese. “So, did you grow up around here?” It came out a little snotty-sounding and she winced. But either he didn’t notice or he was pretending not to.

“Yeah—but now I only live here in the summers. During the year, I go to Westside Public in San Francisco.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were from the city.”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I live with my aunt and uncle during the school year. My dad didn’t think any of the schools in Napa were up to his standards.” He took an 86

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enormous bite of bread and cheese and chewed with his cheeks puffed out.

Maddy dipped into the olive tapenade. “This is really good, by the way,” she told him. “So, do you hate the city or what?”

He looked startled. “No, I love the city. What made you think I hate it?”

“Well, I mean, you really seem to love it up here—

messing around with the shed, riding bikes.”

“You didn’t like the bikes?”

“No! I did! It was fun, but it’s so different back home.”

He shrugged and pressed the top back on the empty container of tapenade. Stretching his long legs out in front of him, he answered, “It is different. But my friends and I bike all the time in the city. There are some amazing trails. I have friends up here, too, but it’s obviously way more fun to go out in the city. Napa doesn’t exactly have a rockin’ nightlife, in case you wondered.”

Maddy giggled. “Hanging out with the cricket on my porch doesn’t count as an awesome night out?”

“Are you kidding? Up here, that would get you on Page Six. But I like all the space up here.” He gestured to the flower-strewn field in front of them and the acres of vines at their backs.

Maddy let out a little snort. “There’s definitely enough of that around here.”

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“Yeah. It’d be nice to have a little more space in our house though.” He took a long drink of water and leaned back on his hands.

“Where do you guys live?” she asked, feeling a little silly for not knowing.

“Stand up for a second.” They both climbed to their feet. Maddy brushed the dried grass off her pants. “Now look over there.” David put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to the left. She started a little and jerked before she could stop herself. David dropped his hand and looked at her curiously. She laughed a little and pretended to brush more grass off her jeans. Why are you acting like a nervous kid, Madeline?

She steadied herself. “What am I looking for?”

He pointed. “Do you see that little bit of white through the trees?” Maddy didn’t respond. She was distracted by the strong line of David’s jaw, sprinkled with a shadow of dark stubble.

He was staring at her too. She dragged her attention back to the tree line. “Oh, yeah, I do.” She strained her eyes to see through a stand of pines farther down the stream. “Kind of.”

“That’s our place. It’s in Jenkins’s field. He’s a farmer—”

“Yeah, I kind of know him, or at least, I know who he is,” Maddy interrupted. “I’ve met his, um, pig.” She didn’t elaborate. David looked perplexed. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, he’s a really nice guy. My dad rented a cottage 88

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on his property this winter. He does some maintenance on his tractors and things in return for a cut on the rent. It’s a pretty small place, but we don’t have a lot of stuff—

you know, two guys alone and everything.”

The obvious question hung in the air, but Maddy didn’t ask it. They sat down again and David poked at the grass with a twig. “My mom lives in L.A. They got divorced when I was little.”

She nodded. “That’s too bad.”

“It’s okay. It was a really long time ago.”

They were quiet for a minute. Maddy changed the subject. “So, where’d you learn to cook?”

“At Mondavi. My dad was the vineyard manager there for years. I was always hanging around the kitchen when I was a little kid, asking for snacks, being annoying. Finally, the line cooks started giving me stuff to do so I’d quit bothering them. I washed vegetables, but they eventually let me do some chopping. When I was fifteen they let me come on as an intern.”

Maddy shook her head and shifted so that she was sitting cross-legged. She watched an ant carry a dead beetle through the grass in front of her. “That’s so cool. I’ve never known a guy my age who could cook, much less liked to.”

David heaved a mock-tired sigh. “I know. My friends call me Emeril, but they’re more than happy to eat whatever I make.”

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“I’m a hopeless cook,” Maddy confessed. “I max out at spaghetti and scrambled eggs.”

“I love scrambled eggs,” David said, his hand on his chest. “How did you know that’s my favorite food in the world?”

“Scrambled eggs are your favorite food?”

“Well, no,” David said, grinning a little devilishly.

“Actually, my favorite food is steamed lobster. I was just trying to make you feel better.”

Maddy laughed. “Thanks a lot, jerk!” She shoved him onto the grass. He fell on his side with a thud and curled up in a ball.

“Help!” he moaned to the air in front of him. “Assault!

This girl is beating me up! The only thing that’ll save me is . . . is . . . a chocolate-chip cookie!” He continued moaning pitifully.

Maddy couldn’t help laughing at him. “Okay!” she said, half crawling over to the plate of cookies still sitting by the rock where she’d left them this morning. She broke one in half.

“Help! Time is running out!” David, with his eyes still closed, opened his mouth like a fish. Maddy poked in the cookie, stuffing the other half into her own mouth.

He sat up. “Ahh, much better,” he managed through the cookie. Maddy’s phone beeped from the grass between them. “Wow, you’re popular!” He reached 90

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across Maddy’s lap and swiped the phone. “Who could this be? Call from Brian—who’s Brian, your boyfriend?”

he teased.

“David, give me that!” In a panic, Maddy grabbed at the phone, but he held it just out of her reach, grinning.

“Hallooo, Pierre’s Auto Repair, who ees dis?” he cried in a high falsetto. He winked at Maddy.

“Stop! Give it to me!” she hissed furiously. David must have seen something change in her face. His grin faded and he handed the phone back.

“Sorry,” he mouthed. Maddy glared at him angrily and jogged a few feet away, turning her back.

“Hi,” she said.

“Who the hell was that?” Brian did not sound happy.

“No one—just this guy I’m working with.” Maddy tried to make her voice unruffled. She peeked over her shoulder. David was throwing small stones into the stream, staring straight ahead of him.

“There’s a guy up there? Thanks for telling me.”

“I didn’t have a chance! Anyway, you have nothing to worry about. He’s the son of my dad’s business partner, so just calm down, okay?”

“I’m not mad that there’s a guy up there—I’m mad because you didn’t say anything about it.” Brian’s voice rose.

“Okay, okay!” Maddy glanced at David nervously. “I can’t talk right now.”

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“Whatever,” Brian said sullenly. “Have fun with that asshole.”

“Look, stop. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Yeah, if you can fit me into your busy schedule.” He hung up. Maddy stood still for a second, breathing a little hard. Then she turned back toward David, who was watching her as he tried to juggle three little stones.

“Hey, look, I’ve almost got this—”

“Why did you do that?” Maddy demanded. The force of her words surprised her.

He caught the stones and stared at her, his mouth open a little.

“That was really inconsiderate, David!” she cried. He blinked. “Sorry.” He held his hands up like he was surrendering. “It was just a joke. Why are you so mad?”

“That was my boyfriend, idiot!”

“Ohh,” he said, realization dawning on his face. He fell back a few steps. “Wow. Sorry.”

“You already said that.” Maddy turned around, trying to control herself. Why was she freaking out? It was just a stupid joke. She usually didn’t get so upset about things like this. She shook her head. “Look, I’m just tired. It’s been a long morning.”

David nodded in agreement. “Yeah.” He looked at her as if he was seeing something different. “Tell your boyfriend I’m sorry the next time you talk to him.”

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“Sure,” Maddy agreed. They stared at each other for a second. As David turned around and headed toward the little house in the next field, Maddy’s stomach sank. Their houses were only a field apart, but they lived in totally different worlds.

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