has swum to the other side of the pool.
She leans against the side and splashes with her feet. I swim beside her and paddle my feet too.
“This is great,” I say. “If I lived here I’d never leave home.”
She sloshes water at me. “Having a pool isn't reason enough to stay.”
I give her a long look. “So you took off?”
She is silent, so I know it’s true. I have figured out that Shelly is like a hunted animal, and one cannot prod her too quickly with questions. I have to let her tell me when she wants to. There’s more to the story than just running away.
Around seven, Shelly walks me out to my car. “Your parents are nice,” I say.
She shrugs. “Yeah. I could do worse.”
I open my car door.
“Hey, thanks again for today.”
“It was fun.”
I’m not sure what I am supposed to do now. Shake her hand? Kiss her? We’re friends, and I liked when she held my hand, but if I kiss her she might just kick me in the nads.
I reach inside my car and pick up the bags of peaches and tomatoes and her bottle of wine. “Don’t forget these.”
She grips the wine and pulls out a peach. She passes the sacks back to me. “Keep the rest.”
“Are you sure?”
“You need them more than I do.”
“Thanks.”
She starts to walk up the driveway. She turns. “See you at the salt mines Monday.”
Inside the bag are two peaches and the last tomato. I eat them after I have found a parking spot at the rest stop just outside of town. I park on the side with the semis, figuring I have less of a chance of getting murdered in the night. It’s cool enough for me to close the windows most of the way. I never really got the whole "sleeping weather" thing until I started living in my car. This is one of the best nights of sleep I have had in ages. It gets so chilly at one point I have to wrap up in a blanket.
Chapter Five
I am sitting at McDonald’s around 9:00 A.M. when my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Shelly.
-What R U doing?
-At McDs. Having coffee.
-CALL ME.
-Cant. almost out of minutes.
-JUST CALL ME!!!!!
-OK!
I hit Call, and she says in a rush, “My-dad-says-we-can-borrow-his-Miata-and-drive-to-Columbus-to-celebrate-your-birthday.”
“But my birthday is . . .”
“Today! I know! Happy birthday! And he gave me one of his credit cards so I can buy you lunch somewhere nice, so wear something not awful.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
“Half an hour.” She hangs up.
I wash my face in the McDonald’s bathroom and wet down my unruly hair. Hopefully Annie can give me a haircut soon. She’s planning to study cosmetology at the vocational school next year and likes to practice haircuts. Sometimes she massacres me, but hey, the haircut is free.
I rummage through my clothes. I don’t want to wear any of Josh’s castoffs in case Shelly’s folks recognize them. The nicest shirt I own is a short-sleeve Hawaiian print. Rick gave it to me last Christmas. Last year flowered shirts were sort of a fad at school. Since I’ve never worn it, it qualifies as my “not awful" shirt. My best pants are a pair of jeans Jeff gave to me on my actual birthday in May, and I have not yet worn them either. I had planned to wear the jeans on the first day of my second try at senior year. But hey, it’s my birthday again, and who am I to turn down a free lunch?
I rub the sample of Chrome cologne I found in a
Sports Illustrated
magazine on my chest and neck. I check my look in the car window. I look like a dork, but this is the best I can do.
I park on the street in front of Shelly’s house. The blue Miata sits in the driveway, and the top is already down. Shelly stands next to the open door of the passenger side wearing ginormous sunglasses, sandals, and a raspberry-colored sundress. Her black hair is neatly braided and she is wearing lipstick.
“You clean up nicely,” I say.
She hands me the keys. “So do you.” She touches the fabric of my floral shirt. “Nice shirt.” The compliment seems genuine.
I slide
She leans against the side and splashes with her feet. I swim beside her and paddle my feet too.
“This is great,” I say. “If I lived here I’d never leave home.”
She sloshes water at me. “Having a pool isn't reason enough to stay.”
I give her a long look. “So you took off?”
She is silent, so I know it’s true. I have figured out that Shelly is like a hunted animal, and one cannot prod her too quickly with questions. I have to let her tell me when she wants to. There’s more to the story than just running away.
Around seven, Shelly walks me out to my car. “Your parents are nice,” I say.
She shrugs. “Yeah. I could do worse.”
I open my car door.
“Hey, thanks again for today.”
“It was fun.”
I’m not sure what I am supposed to do now. Shake her hand? Kiss her? We’re friends, and I liked when she held my hand, but if I kiss her she might just kick me in the nads.
I reach inside my car and pick up the bags of peaches and tomatoes and her bottle of wine. “Don’t forget these.”
She grips the wine and pulls out a peach. She passes the sacks back to me. “Keep the rest.”
“Are you sure?”
“You need them more than I do.”
“Thanks.”
She starts to walk up the driveway. She turns. “See you at the salt mines Monday.”
Inside the bag are two peaches and the last tomato. I eat them after I have found a parking spot at the rest stop just outside of town. I park on the side with the semis, figuring I have less of a chance of getting murdered in the night. It’s cool enough for me to close the windows most of the way. I never really got the whole "sleeping weather" thing until I started living in my car. This is one of the best nights of sleep I have had in ages. It gets so chilly at one point I have to wrap up in a blanket.
Chapter Five
I am sitting at McDonald’s around 9:00 A.M. when my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Shelly.
-What R U doing?
-At McDs. Having coffee.
-CALL ME.
-Cant. almost out of minutes.
-JUST CALL ME!!!!!
-OK!
I hit Call, and she says in a rush, “My-dad-says-we-can-borrow-his-Miata-and-drive-to-Columbus-to-celebrate-your-birthday.”
“But my birthday is . . .”
“Today! I know! Happy birthday! And he gave me one of his credit cards so I can buy you lunch somewhere nice, so wear something not awful.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
“Half an hour.” She hangs up.
I wash my face in the McDonald’s bathroom and wet down my unruly hair. Hopefully Annie can give me a haircut soon. She’s planning to study cosmetology at the vocational school next year and likes to practice haircuts. Sometimes she massacres me, but hey, the haircut is free.
I rummage through my clothes. I don’t want to wear any of Josh’s castoffs in case Shelly’s folks recognize them. The nicest shirt I own is a short-sleeve Hawaiian print. Rick gave it to me last Christmas. Last year flowered shirts were sort of a fad at school. Since I’ve never worn it, it qualifies as my “not awful" shirt. My best pants are a pair of jeans Jeff gave to me on my actual birthday in May, and I have not yet worn them either. I had planned to wear the jeans on the first day of my second try at senior year. But hey, it’s my birthday again, and who am I to turn down a free lunch?
I rub the sample of Chrome cologne I found in a
Sports Illustrated
magazine on my chest and neck. I check my look in the car window. I look like a dork, but this is the best I can do.
I park on the street in front of Shelly’s house. The blue Miata sits in the driveway, and the top is already down. Shelly stands next to the open door of the passenger side wearing ginormous sunglasses, sandals, and a raspberry-colored sundress. Her black hair is neatly braided and she is wearing lipstick.
“You clean up nicely,” I say.
She hands me the keys. “So do you.” She touches the fabric of my floral shirt. “Nice shirt.” The compliment seems genuine.
I slide
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