Read Online Peaches by Jodi Lynn Anderson - Free Book Online Page A

the first couple of days. Murphy could glean a little bit of Spanish since she was taking Advanced French and some of the words were similar. But she was mostly lost. She sat for a while, listening to the buzz of the radio drifting from the windows of the men’s dorm and the buzz of voices. Every few minutes someone made an effort to include her, explaining the current topic in a few words of broken English.
    “We are talking about the frost,” one woman said, leaning in to her. Murphy couldn’t remember if she was Raeka or Isabel. “They say we might to get next week. Very bad for the trees.”
    Murphy nodded, feeling like this might be one of the most boring conversation topics of all time. While the workers continued talking, she swiveled to look over her shoulder and saw Leeda Cawley-Smith picking her way down from the main house, where, presumably, she’d been eating dinner each night. It made no sense to Murphy that she slept down in the dorms. She did everything she could to avoid the people who lived there. Without looking at anyone, Leeda edged to the side of the dorm and disappeared inside.
    After a while Murphy stood up and walked to where the light coming from Camp A met the dusk. She lit a cigarette and zipped up her hooded sweatshirt. It was just getting dark, and the crickets had started to chirp. The breeze gave Murphy a tingly feeling in her stomach. For a second it reminded her why she had liked the orchard and how she’d ended up here in thefirst place. The shadows made it look inviting and cool and restful. She decided to stroll over to the supply barn.
    Once she reached the barn, she picked up the phone and stared at the dial pad. She thought about calling her mom, but she couldn’t stand hearing more about Richard. They’d been on three dates in the few days Murphy had been gone. If Murphy called next week, it was more than likely he’d be out of the picture by then. So instead, she dialed Max, a hip neo-bluegrass musician she’d met at C.W.’s Smoking Lounge in Macon who was way too old for her. He was an amazing kisser.
    “Max, it’s Murphy. Feel like spending some time on a farm?”

    Two hours later, when everyone in the dorm had fallen asleep, Murphy was sliding out the screen door and trucking through the trees.
    She could feel her heart throbbing in different spots—her wrists, her throat, her thumbs. Murphy always liked to weigh the risks of anything she was doing, but in this case she couldn’t gauge what they were. She didn’t know how vigilant the Nazi dogs were. Or what Walter would do if he caught her a second time. But that was, of course, part of the appeal. Also, zigzagging down the rows of small trees, with her feet sliding on the discarded buds, was different at night. She felt like she might run into Hansel and Gretel. Or Snow White.
    “Yow.” Murphy slapped at her leg just as she reached the overgrowth that separated the farm from the tracks. A fat, juicy black fire ant clung to her ankle. She slapped it again, smushing it. “Damn.”
    Murphy had a particular bitterness, and also an admiration,for fire ants. They were like stealth fighters. They climbed up your legs on tiptoes, knowing you wouldn’t notice them, and then when one bit you, it released a pheromone that signaled them all to bite you all at once. Vindictive little suckers.
    Murphy jumped back and forth on the ties of the track while she waited, challenging herself to do different tricks—jumping on tiptoe, jumping backward, jumping backward on tiptoe. She smoked another cigarette and waited another hour. It had started to drizzle in a fine mist, and still no Max. He’d probably found some party and bailed. She began the long walk back to the dorms.
    As Murphy came along the front of the men’s dorm, her body relaxing, she froze. A figure backed out of the door, closing it softly, sneakily. Murphy watched it for a moment, her pulse spiking again, making sure it was who she thought it was. When she