Read Online Wreath by Judy Christie - Free Book Online

loiterer, she picked up her awkward accumulation of items, brushed the dirt off her shorts, and took two steps.
    She was stunned.
    Sitting on the steps of the trailer was the boy from the state park. He was drinking a canned Coke and reading. He set the soft drink down, ran his fingers through his black hair, and acted like he was playing a short song on an invisible guitar.
    A moment passed before he looked up and saw Wreath. He quickly quit pretending to play an unseen musical instrument, picked the Coke back up, and stood. His expression was a combination of embarrassment, delight, and confusion. They stared at each other for a moment, the way strangers do when sizing each other up.
    He broke the silence. “Hiking girl, right?”
    Wreath nodded and tried to figure out what to do.
    “You moved into one of these palaces?” The boy pointed to the short row of pitiful metal rectangles, grassless yards, a car up on blocks.
    Wreath didn’t reply. She adjusted her pack and sacks of supplies and decided she had been wrong about the boy being rich. His home didn’t look all that different from the Rusted Estates, although it appeared to have electricity.
    “You’re
really
not much of a talker, are you?” he said.
    Wreath shook her head. Her instincts told her to walk away, but loneliness, dread of the walk to the junkyard, and this guy made her want to stay.
    “I’m not real sure why you’re standing in my front yard,” he said after a minute. “Since you don’t seem all that happy to see me, I guess you didn’t come to visit.”
    Wreath shook her head again. The random spot where Clarice dropped her would turn out to be the home of the cutest boy she’d ever seen. And she was acting like a dweeb.
    “Ranger boy?” she blurted out, thunder sounding in the distance.
    He nodded, a small smile coming to his face, and took a swallow of the soft drink. She noticed he’d been reading a book of guitar music.
    “My name’s Law,” he said.
    “Law?” She laughed. “I’ve never heard that name before.”
    “It’s short for Lawson,” he mumbled. “A great-uncle’s name or something. You going to tell me your name or just stand there making fun of mine?”
    “I didn’t mean to make fun. I like unusual names.” She glanced at the book of music. “Sounds like someone in a band or something. You play the guitar?”
    He groaned. “You saw me playing air guitar, didn’t you? I was so hoping you didn’t see that.”
    She nodded.
    Law shook his bangs out of his eyes. “I’m saving up to buy one. I’ve taken a few lessons and am trying to teach myself the rest.”
    “I’ve always wanted to learn to play the drums,” Wreath said. She had never admitted that to anyone, not even Frankie.
    “So you don’t like talking, but you like to make noise, huh?” When Law smiled, he made Wreath’s heart flutter. He was good-looking enough, for sure, to be in a band.
    “I’ve got to go,” Wreath said, suddenly uncomfortable. “My friend dropped me off here by mistake.”
    “That’s strange,” Law said.
    “I’m new around here. I got the addresses mixed up.” He tilted his head. “So you live around here?” By now Wreath was backing up, her pace picking up. “Down the road,” she said and turned almost at a run. “Wait!”
    Wreath was elated and scared when she heard his footsteps drawing near.
    “You never told me your name,” he said, falling into step beside her.
    “Wreath.”
    “Wreath.” He made her name sound like the title of a poem or a song. “No wonder you like unusual names. You want me to carry that stuff home for you?”
    “Oh no!” Wreath said and then tried to give her voice a calmer sound. “It’s not far. I’ve got it. I’d better get going.”
    “I hope to see you around,” he said.
    She walked away, wishing she could stay and visit or ask him to walk her home. She was eager to talk with Law and almost as sure she needed nothing to do with him.
    “Wreath!” he yelled.
    She