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Authors: Rachel Morgan
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various places inside the museum. She was more than happy to stand in front of my phone and act all goofy while talking about science.
“Anyway,” I continue, “Matt needs to go now, so I’m gonna say goodbye, and then I’ll tell you all about it.”
My parents take the hint and disappear into the lounge to give me a moment alone with Matt. I turn to him, and I’m about to ask what’s going on between us, but he takes my face in both hands and presses his mouth against mine before I can get a word out. He tastes of familiarity and … guilt. Because the last person I kissed wasn’t him. I try to relax against him and remember all the butterflies and goosebumps I used to get when he kissed me, but he’s already pulling away. “I missed you,” he says, then adds a quick kiss to my nose. “And now I’ve gotta go.”
I clench my fists at my sides as he turns away. SAY SOMETHING! “Matt, I’m … I’m a little confused. The night before I left …”
“Yes,” he says, stopping and turning back. “Yes, I know.” He looks down. “We were both angry. We both said very hurtful things we ended up regretting, and … well, now that we’ve had a few weeks to cool off, I think we should just put it behind us, you know?” He raises his eyes to mine and gives me an encouraging smile. “All couples fight. It’s normal. There’s no reason we can’t get back to the way things used to be between us.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “We’re good together, Sarah. I’d hate to lose what we have.”
He gives me one last hug, and I mumble, “O-okay,” because somehow it doesn’t feel like he left much else for me to say.
“Anyway, I need to go. I’ll see you on Friday morning.” He ducks out the front door and heads down the path while I try to figure out what he’s talking about.
“Friday morning?” I call after him.
“Yeah, I’m coming back to pick you up to take you to the farm.” He looks over his shoulder and, at the blank look on my face, rolls his eyes. “Grandpa’s ninetieth, remember? The party’s next weekend? I told you about it months ago.”
“Uh, yeah.” I do remember, but for some reason I’d thought it was happening after Christmas. “Okay, see you then.” I lean inside and press the button to close the gate. When I look back out, Sophie is running up the driveway.
“Hello, sisi !” she shouts, then just about collides into me. I wrap my arms around my younger sister, and we do a kind of bouncy hug thing that starts us both giggling.
“Where’d you just come from?” I ask her once we’ve recovered from our laughter.
“I was down the road at Braden’s.”
I raise my hands to make quote marks in the air. “You mean ‘that boy’?”
Sophie groans and closes the front door. “Yeah, Mom still doesn’t like him that much.”
She helps me carry my luggage down the passage to my bedroom, where I see a brown paper bag sitting on the bed. I open the bag and look inside. “Biltong! Fantastic!” I stick my hand in and remove a few pieces—finely sliced, just the way I like it—of the dried meat. “I’ve been so lus for biltong the whole time I was away.”
“I know,” says Sophie. “You mentioned it on Facebook, so I told Mom.”
I munch on the salty, spicy snack and mumble, “You rock.”
Sophie smiles sweetly and says again, “I know.” She pushes her blonde hair over her shoulder, then holds her hand out, palm up.
Jules and I both have dark hair like our parents, but somehow Sophie wound up blonde. She used to get upset about it when she was little—‘Why don’t I look like the rest of you?’—and Jules would tell her every time that she’d always secretly wished she had Sophie’s beautiful golden locks. That would inevitably lead to Sophie begging someone to tell her the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears , and by the time that was finished, she’d always forgotten she was upset in the first place.
I shake the paper bag over
“Anyway,” I continue, “Matt needs to go now, so I’m gonna say goodbye, and then I’ll tell you all about it.”
My parents take the hint and disappear into the lounge to give me a moment alone with Matt. I turn to him, and I’m about to ask what’s going on between us, but he takes my face in both hands and presses his mouth against mine before I can get a word out. He tastes of familiarity and … guilt. Because the last person I kissed wasn’t him. I try to relax against him and remember all the butterflies and goosebumps I used to get when he kissed me, but he’s already pulling away. “I missed you,” he says, then adds a quick kiss to my nose. “And now I’ve gotta go.”
I clench my fists at my sides as he turns away. SAY SOMETHING! “Matt, I’m … I’m a little confused. The night before I left …”
“Yes,” he says, stopping and turning back. “Yes, I know.” He looks down. “We were both angry. We both said very hurtful things we ended up regretting, and … well, now that we’ve had a few weeks to cool off, I think we should just put it behind us, you know?” He raises his eyes to mine and gives me an encouraging smile. “All couples fight. It’s normal. There’s no reason we can’t get back to the way things used to be between us.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “We’re good together, Sarah. I’d hate to lose what we have.”
He gives me one last hug, and I mumble, “O-okay,” because somehow it doesn’t feel like he left much else for me to say.
“Anyway, I need to go. I’ll see you on Friday morning.” He ducks out the front door and heads down the path while I try to figure out what he’s talking about.
“Friday morning?” I call after him.
“Yeah, I’m coming back to pick you up to take you to the farm.” He looks over his shoulder and, at the blank look on my face, rolls his eyes. “Grandpa’s ninetieth, remember? The party’s next weekend? I told you about it months ago.”
“Uh, yeah.” I do remember, but for some reason I’d thought it was happening after Christmas. “Okay, see you then.” I lean inside and press the button to close the gate. When I look back out, Sophie is running up the driveway.
“Hello, sisi !” she shouts, then just about collides into me. I wrap my arms around my younger sister, and we do a kind of bouncy hug thing that starts us both giggling.
“Where’d you just come from?” I ask her once we’ve recovered from our laughter.
“I was down the road at Braden’s.”
I raise my hands to make quote marks in the air. “You mean ‘that boy’?”
Sophie groans and closes the front door. “Yeah, Mom still doesn’t like him that much.”
She helps me carry my luggage down the passage to my bedroom, where I see a brown paper bag sitting on the bed. I open the bag and look inside. “Biltong! Fantastic!” I stick my hand in and remove a few pieces—finely sliced, just the way I like it—of the dried meat. “I’ve been so lus for biltong the whole time I was away.”
“I know,” says Sophie. “You mentioned it on Facebook, so I told Mom.”
I munch on the salty, spicy snack and mumble, “You rock.”
Sophie smiles sweetly and says again, “I know.” She pushes her blonde hair over her shoulder, then holds her hand out, palm up.
Jules and I both have dark hair like our parents, but somehow Sophie wound up blonde. She used to get upset about it when she was little—‘Why don’t I look like the rest of you?’—and Jules would tell her every time that she’d always secretly wished she had Sophie’s beautiful golden locks. That would inevitably lead to Sophie begging someone to tell her the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears , and by the time that was finished, she’d always forgotten she was upset in the first place.
I shake the paper bag over
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