Read Online Tug-of-War by Katy Grant - Free Book Online

idea what you see in her.”
    Devon’s next shot hit in the red. So far she’d hit every single arrow in the inner three rings.
    â€œDevon, don’t start. You just don’t get Maggie the way I do. And we like to do a lot of the same things.”
    I’d never go on any river trips, or take a hike, or even swim in the lake if I spent all my time with Devon.
    â€œYou’d
never
be friends with her back home,” she went on. “First of all, there’s no way she’d ever make it into the gifted program.”
    I had raised my bow and was about to take aim when I lowered it and glared at Devon. “She’s not stupid. She happens to be a good friend of mine.”
    Devon had her back to me so she could take aim again. She shot all her arrows before she said anything else.
    â€œWhat do the two of you do together? Blaze trails? Hunt grizzlies?”
    â€œI think you’re jealous, Devon,” I said. “Can’t you try to be a little more mature about this and accept the fact that I can have two best friends?”
    Devon jabbed the point of her arrow into the grass, inches from my purple and yellow high-tops. It wavered back and forth a little from the force. “Mature?
Mature?
You’re telling me to be mature? Have you seen the way
you
act around her? You two are like a couple of bratty kindergartners when you’re together.”
    I knew I’d hit a sore spot with Devon, who took pride in the fact that she acted like she was in her midthirties. At least.
    â€œWhy? Because we know how to have fun? I made a point of spending the afternoon with you when I could be having a lot more fun with Maggie. I bet she’s the life of the party on the hike she’s on right now. Too bad I’m not with her.”
    As soon as I’d said that, I felt bad. But it was too late, I couldn’t take it back. I noticed how Devon’s lips pressed together when she heard it. She held her head up, trying to act like she didn’t care about the mean thing I’d just said.
    â€œOh, I’m sure she is. I can see her now in the trees—hangingupside down by her toes.” Devon swatted at the end of the arrow stuck in the grass.
    I felt so guilty. I really had been having fun with Devon. I should apologize now, tell her I didn’t really mean that.
    Instead I snatched her arrow out of the grass and brushed the dirt off its pointed tip, then nocked it into the bow string and aimed at the target. It stuck in the gold—my first shot to hit dead center since we’d started.
    â€œHey, that was my arrow,” Devon protested.
    â€œToo bad,” I told her. “And you’re ruining my birthday.”
    â€œI’m not ruining your birthday,” she snapped.
    She wasn’t really. I didn’t want us to fight. But I couldn’t force an apology out of my mouth.
    â€œWell . . . it started out happy but it’s gotten worse as the day goes on,” I said. “Thanks to you.” I stood there, fuming. I knew I was just making things worse, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
    Devon laid her bow down in the grass and started to walk off. When she was about ten feet away, she glanced over her shoulder. “Cheer up. You can spend the rest of the day with your
best
friend. I’m sure you two will have more fun than a barrel of monkeys.”

Friday, June 20
    â€œI think it’s about to start pouring any second now,” I predicted.
    Maggie looked up at the dark sky. A layer of heavy gray clouds was hanging low overhead, and all around us was that still, expectant feeling just before a storm hit.
    We were paddling around on the lake, working on our newest strokes. Besides Maggie and me, Meredith Orr and Patty Nguyen were a couple of other canoeing regulars. And Boo had started coming to canoeing a lot with her friend Abby Harper.
    Michelle and Steve (the canoeing guide who went along on all the river trips) had said