needed to do, and I might as well get it over with.
But the bed felt good, and even though I wouldnât be able to sleep with that lawn mower going, I decided to just lie there for a while.
Glenn had been acting strangely.
The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that something was up he didnât want me to know about. Mr. Lockhart always got up early every Saturday and Sunday to play golf at the country clubâas long as the weather was decent. He always had a tee time for seven and was usually home after eighteen holes no later than noon. He sometimes picked up a pizza on his way.
So why wasnât Mr. Lockhart playing golf this morning?
Itâs probably nothing , I thought, putting my hands behind my head and closing my eyes.
But Glenn had rushed me out of thereâwhich he never did.
Maybe heâs meeting that Sara girl.
My eyes opened again.
I licked my lips.
I hadnât liked her.
Youâre just jealous because sheâs into him instead of you , a voice jeered inside my head.
No question about it, she was a beautiful girl. She looked like she could be a model or a movie star rather than a senior in a rural Kansas high school. But that wasnât it. Something about herâ
You had a nightmare about her. Thatâs all.
âdidnât seem right to me.
I tried to remember the dream without any luck. I closed my eyes and tried to take a nap but my mind was too wound up and the roar of the lawn mower from down the street was too much. Finally, I gave up and put on some shorts and a ripped-up old T-shirt. I got out our battered old lawn mower from the shed in the backyard and pulled the string, starting it up.
I hated mowing our lawn. We didnât have as much lawn as the Lockharts did, but the Lockharts had a riding mower. Ours wasnât even self-propelled, and our yard was full of ruts and holes that made pushing the damned thing around an ordeal. By the time I was finished with the backyard I was drenched in sweat and in a bad mood. I turned the mower off and went inside to get something to drink.
I heard my cell phone chirp when I went into the kitchen. It was still in my duffel bag, and I saw that Iâd missed a call.
I grinned when I pressed the voice mail button and heard Candyâs voice. âHey, Tony, still sorry about the game last night. Can you give me a call when you get a chance?â
I poured myself a glass of iced tea and sat down at the kitchen table. My hands were covered with grass dust and dirt, and I pressed the cold glass against the side of my sweating face.
âHey, Candy, sorry I missed your call,â I said when she answered. âI was out mowing the lawn.â
âIn this heat? Are you crazy?â
I laughed. âNeeds to be done. What are you up to today?â
âI meant to ask you last night, but didnât get a chance.â Her voice sounded nervous, tentative.
I leaned back in the chair, and the front two legs came up off the floor as I balanced on the back two. âSo, ask.â
âYou remember how Laney said Linda Avery was having a party tonight?â
âYeah. I wasnât invited.â Linda Avery was the richest girl at school. Her parents owned a huge cattle ranch about five miles north of the school, and she was an only child. She was spoiled rottenânone of the stores in Kahola were good enough for her clothes. She shopped in Kansas City or Wichita. Sheâd gotten a BMW convertible for her sixteenth birthday, and sheâd been queen of the county fair during the summer. Her parents went out of town a lot, and she always had parties at their big house whenever they were gone. They had a pool and a hot tub.
Iâd never been invited to one of her parties, which supposedly were the height of high school decadence. She got some of the ranch workers to buy beer for her, and kids always got drunk at them. Some parents disapproved, but you didnât criticize
But the bed felt good, and even though I wouldnât be able to sleep with that lawn mower going, I decided to just lie there for a while.
Glenn had been acting strangely.
The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that something was up he didnât want me to know about. Mr. Lockhart always got up early every Saturday and Sunday to play golf at the country clubâas long as the weather was decent. He always had a tee time for seven and was usually home after eighteen holes no later than noon. He sometimes picked up a pizza on his way.
So why wasnât Mr. Lockhart playing golf this morning?
Itâs probably nothing , I thought, putting my hands behind my head and closing my eyes.
But Glenn had rushed me out of thereâwhich he never did.
Maybe heâs meeting that Sara girl.
My eyes opened again.
I licked my lips.
I hadnât liked her.
Youâre just jealous because sheâs into him instead of you , a voice jeered inside my head.
No question about it, she was a beautiful girl. She looked like she could be a model or a movie star rather than a senior in a rural Kansas high school. But that wasnât it. Something about herâ
You had a nightmare about her. Thatâs all.
âdidnât seem right to me.
I tried to remember the dream without any luck. I closed my eyes and tried to take a nap but my mind was too wound up and the roar of the lawn mower from down the street was too much. Finally, I gave up and put on some shorts and a ripped-up old T-shirt. I got out our battered old lawn mower from the shed in the backyard and pulled the string, starting it up.
I hated mowing our lawn. We didnât have as much lawn as the Lockharts did, but the Lockharts had a riding mower. Ours wasnât even self-propelled, and our yard was full of ruts and holes that made pushing the damned thing around an ordeal. By the time I was finished with the backyard I was drenched in sweat and in a bad mood. I turned the mower off and went inside to get something to drink.
I heard my cell phone chirp when I went into the kitchen. It was still in my duffel bag, and I saw that Iâd missed a call.
I grinned when I pressed the voice mail button and heard Candyâs voice. âHey, Tony, still sorry about the game last night. Can you give me a call when you get a chance?â
I poured myself a glass of iced tea and sat down at the kitchen table. My hands were covered with grass dust and dirt, and I pressed the cold glass against the side of my sweating face.
âHey, Candy, sorry I missed your call,â I said when she answered. âI was out mowing the lawn.â
âIn this heat? Are you crazy?â
I laughed. âNeeds to be done. What are you up to today?â
âI meant to ask you last night, but didnât get a chance.â Her voice sounded nervous, tentative.
I leaned back in the chair, and the front two legs came up off the floor as I balanced on the back two. âSo, ask.â
âYou remember how Laney said Linda Avery was having a party tonight?â
âYeah. I wasnât invited.â Linda Avery was the richest girl at school. Her parents owned a huge cattle ranch about five miles north of the school, and she was an only child. She was spoiled rottenânone of the stores in Kahola were good enough for her clothes. She shopped in Kansas City or Wichita. Sheâd gotten a BMW convertible for her sixteenth birthday, and sheâd been queen of the county fair during the summer. Her parents went out of town a lot, and she always had parties at their big house whenever they were gone. They had a pool and a hot tub.
Iâd never been invited to one of her parties, which supposedly were the height of high school decadence. She got some of the ranch workers to buy beer for her, and kids always got drunk at them. Some parents disapproved, but you didnât criticize
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