Laurel forced herself not to wrinkle her nose at the Twinkies and looked around the kitchen instead. Her eyes found a fruit bowl. “Can I have one of those?” she asked, pointing to a fresh green pear.
“Yeah. Grab it and bring it along.” He held up a water bottle. “Water?”
She grinned. “Sure.”
They pocketed their snacks and David pointed toward the back door. “This way.” They walked to the back of the house and he opened the sliding door.
Laurel stepped out into a well-kept, fenced backyard. “Looks like a dead end to me.”
David laughed. “To the untrained eye, perhaps.”
He approached the cinder-block fence, and with a quick, leaping bound, he pulled himself to the top and perched there.
“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’ll help you.”
Laurel looked up at him skeptically but extended her hand. With surprisingly little effort, they hopped over the fence.
The tree line came right up to the fence, so with that one small jump they stood in a forest with damp, fallen leaves forming a thick carpet under their feet. The dense canopy hushed the sound of cars in the distance, and Laurel looked around appreciatively. “This is nice.”
David looked up with his hands on his hips. “It is, I guess. I’ve never been a big outdoors person, but I do find a lot of different plants in here that I can look at under my microscope.”
Laurel squinted up at him. “You have a microscope?” She snickered. “You really are a science geek.”
David laughed. “Yeah, but everyone thought Clark Kent was a nerd too, and look how that turned out.”
“You telling me you’re Superman?” Laurel asked.
“You never know,” David said teasingly.
Laurel laughed and looked down, suddenly shy. When she looked up, David was staring at her. The glade seemed even quieter as their eyes met. She liked the way he looked at her, his eyes soft and probing. As if he could learn more about her just by studying her face.
After a long moment he smiled, a little embarrassed, and tilted his head toward a faint path. “The tree’s this way.”
He led her on a path that wound back and forth, seemingly without purpose. But after a few minutes, he pointed to a large tree just off the path.
“Wow,” Laurel said. “That
“I discovered it when we moved here.”
“So…where’s your dad?” Laurel asked, sliding her back down a tree and settling into a soft pile of leaves. She pulled the pear out of her pocket.
David made a low laugh in his throat. “San Francisco. He’s a defense lawyer with a big firm.”
“Do you see him very often?” she asked.
David joined her on the ground, his knee resting gently against her thigh. She didn’t scoot away. “Every couple of months. He’s got a private jet and he flies into McNamara Field and takes me back with him for the weekend.”
“That’s cool.”
“I guess.”
“You don’t like him?”
David shrugged. “Well enough. But he’s the one who left us, and he never tried to get more time with me or anything, so I just don’t feel like a priority to him, you know?”
Laurel nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. We always have fun. It’s just — kind of weird sometimes.”
They sat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, the tranquil clearing lulling them into a relaxed state. But then they both looked up as thunder rumbled across the sky.
“I’d better take you back. It’s gonna pour soon.”
Laurel stood and brushed herself off. “Thanks for bringing me here,” she said, gesturing at the tree. “This is pretty cool.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” David said. He avoided her eyes. “But…that wasn’t really the point.”
“Oh.” Laurel felt complimented and awkward all at the same time.
“This way,” David said, his face coloring a little as he turned away.
They climbed back over the fence just as the first drops of rain began to fall. “Do you want to call your mom to come pick you up?” David asked once they were back in the kitchen.
“Nah, I’ll be fine.”
“But it’s raining. I should walk you.”
“No, it’s fine. Really, I like walking in the rain.”
David paused for a second, then blurted, “Then can I call you? Maybe tomorrow?”
Laurel smiled. “Sure.”
“Good.” But he didn’t move from the kitchen doorway.
“Door’s that way, right?” she asked, as politely as possible.
“Yeah. It’s just, I can’t call you without your number.”
“Oh, sorry.” She pulled out a pen and scribbled her number down on a notebook beside the phone.
“Can I give you mine?”
“Sure.”
Laurel started to open her bag, but David stopped her. “Don’t worry about that,” he said. “Here.”
David held her hand and scrawled his number across her palm.
“This way you won’t lose it,” he said sheepishly.
“Great. Talk to you later.” She flashed him a warm grin before letting herself out into the heavy drizzle.
Once she was down the street just far enough that the house was out of sight, Laurel pushed back the hood of her jacket and lifted her face to the sky. She breathed deeply as the rain sprinkled on her cheeks and trickled down her neck. She started to stretch her arms out, then remembered the phone number. She buried her hands in her pockets and picked up her pace, smiling as the rain continued to fall softly on her head.
The phone was ringing as Laurel walked into her house. Her mom didn’t seem to be home, so Laurel ran the last few steps to catch the call before the machine picked up. “Hello?” she said breathlessly.
“Oh, hey, you’re home. I was just gonna leave a message.”
“David?”
“Yeah. Hi. Sorry to call so soon,” David said, “but I was thinking that we have that bio test next week and I thought maybe you’d like to come over tomorrow and study with me.”
“Seriously?” Laurel said. “That would be awesome! I am so stressed about that test. I feel like I only know about half of the stuff.”
“Great.” He paused. “Not great that you’re stressing over it, but great that — anyway.”
Laurel grinned at his awkwardness. “What time?”
“Just whenever. I’m not doing anything tomorrow except chores for my mom.”
“Okay. I’ll call you.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Laurel said good-bye and hung up. She smiled as she bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
SATURDAY MORNING, LAUREL’S EYES FLUTTERED OPEN at sunrise. She didn’t mind — she was a morning person, always had been. She usually woke about an hour before her parents and it gave her a chance to take a walk by herself and enjoy the sun on her back and the wind on her cheeks before she had to go spend hours indoors at school.
After pulling on a sundress, she grabbed her mom’s old guitar from its case by the back door before slipping silently out to enjoy the crisp quiet of the early morning. Late September had chased away the bright, clear mornings and brought instead the fog that rolled off the ocean and lingered over the town until early afternoon.
