Stacey’s appetite for the watermelon sagged.
Calvin scooped up a huge chunk and shoveled it into his mouth. “So, Flan, can we go see your dad today? I want to ask him if he could rig up a throttle cable for me.”
“You busted your throttle cable?” Flannery held a piece of watermelon halfway between the table and her mouth.
“Yeah …”
So Calvin hadn’t spilled his troubles out to Flannery over the weekend. Good. Stacey carved out a sliver of melon that nestled perfectly in the bowl of her spoon. Maybe Flannery could take notes.
“Sure, we can go.” Flannery chomped then dug in for another bite. But she dropped her spoon back, and juice splashed onto the picnic table. “Oh, hey! I meant to tell you. There’s a bike at the shop you’ve
got
to see. Would be just right for you.”
Calvin groaned softly. “I can’t afford a new bike.”
“Talk to your parents. Maybe they’d let you make payments. Or maybe they’ll be really sweet and buy it for you for your birthday.”
Calvin huffed. “Yeah, right.”
Was the girl completely clueless? She had to know that Calvin’s family didn’t have a lot of money. Maybe Stacey had misjudged the depth of their friendship.
Calvin’s misery killed Stacey’s moment of triumph. She slipped her hand around him, cupped the gentle outward curve of his waist.
“How do you know unless you ask?” Flannery pressed.
Calvin winced. Stacey caressed his side and leaned her cheek toward his shoulder. At the same time she angled her face to lock eyes with Flannery.
Shut up, girl
.
Flannery tilted her head. “What?”
“Leave him alone.”
“Huh? What’s wrong with me talking to him about a bike?”
“Open your eyes. Can’t you see he’s upset about the one he’s got?”
Flannery threw her hands out, and her eyes flashed. “Hey, I’m trying to help him feel better.”
“Stop it.” Calvin surged to his feet but wobbled between the table and the bench.
Stacey tried to reclaim her hold on him. “Calvin—”
“Just forget it, okay? I’ll be right back.” He stepped over the bench and crossed the concrete patio to the back of the house. He eased open the sliding glass as if he was trying not to make any noise. Deliberate movements. Maybe so he wouldn’t slam it.
“Nice. Good job, y’all,” Tyler muttered.
Stacey turned in time to see Flannery wilt. Yet the glare didn’t leave the girl’s eyes.
Though her fingers trembled, Stacey picked up her spoon and watermelon, which she could only stare at.
Flannery straightened her back, which meant that long spine and the sliver of flesh above her jeans was all Stacey could see. “We talk about bikes all the time. Why is that suddenly wrong?”
Tyler sighed and turned his gaze in the direction of the RV. “It isn’t. Picking a fight is.”
“I didn’t pick a fight. She basically told me to shut up.”
She
. Like she wasn’t sitting there looking at that girl’s back. Likeher opinion didn’t matter. Like she didn’t belong with them at all. Her presence alone had caused conflict.
Tyler’s voice murmured in Stacey’s brain, but she couldn’t grasp it. She mustered all her will into moving gracefully as she stood and negotiated the bench. “Maybe I should go home.”
“Stace, come on. Don’t be like that,” Tyler said.
She raised a palm toward him. “It’s okay. Y’all are here to talk about motorcycles, and I don’t even ride one.”
“You’re here because Calvin wants you here. Don’t—” Tyler bounded up and came around the table. He caught her by the shoulders. “Don’t make it any worse, okay?”
Stacey trembled beneath the pressure of his hands. “Why is this my fault? Why am I the odd person out?”
“You’re not, and it isn’t. It’s just …” His eyes shifted from her face, almost like the words he wanted were printed in the air behind her. “I don’t even know what this argument is about. It, like, came out of nowhere.”
She tilted her chin up.
Calvin scooped up a huge chunk and shoveled it into his mouth. “So, Flan, can we go see your dad today? I want to ask him if he could rig up a throttle cable for me.”
“You busted your throttle cable?” Flannery held a piece of watermelon halfway between the table and her mouth.
“Yeah …”
So Calvin hadn’t spilled his troubles out to Flannery over the weekend. Good. Stacey carved out a sliver of melon that nestled perfectly in the bowl of her spoon. Maybe Flannery could take notes.
“Sure, we can go.” Flannery chomped then dug in for another bite. But she dropped her spoon back, and juice splashed onto the picnic table. “Oh, hey! I meant to tell you. There’s a bike at the shop you’ve
got
to see. Would be just right for you.”
Calvin groaned softly. “I can’t afford a new bike.”
“Talk to your parents. Maybe they’d let you make payments. Or maybe they’ll be really sweet and buy it for you for your birthday.”
Calvin huffed. “Yeah, right.”
Was the girl completely clueless? She had to know that Calvin’s family didn’t have a lot of money. Maybe Stacey had misjudged the depth of their friendship.
Calvin’s misery killed Stacey’s moment of triumph. She slipped her hand around him, cupped the gentle outward curve of his waist.
“How do you know unless you ask?” Flannery pressed.
Calvin winced. Stacey caressed his side and leaned her cheek toward his shoulder. At the same time she angled her face to lock eyes with Flannery.
Shut up, girl
.
Flannery tilted her head. “What?”
“Leave him alone.”
“Huh? What’s wrong with me talking to him about a bike?”
“Open your eyes. Can’t you see he’s upset about the one he’s got?”
Flannery threw her hands out, and her eyes flashed. “Hey, I’m trying to help him feel better.”
“Stop it.” Calvin surged to his feet but wobbled between the table and the bench.
Stacey tried to reclaim her hold on him. “Calvin—”
“Just forget it, okay? I’ll be right back.” He stepped over the bench and crossed the concrete patio to the back of the house. He eased open the sliding glass as if he was trying not to make any noise. Deliberate movements. Maybe so he wouldn’t slam it.
“Nice. Good job, y’all,” Tyler muttered.
Stacey turned in time to see Flannery wilt. Yet the glare didn’t leave the girl’s eyes.
Though her fingers trembled, Stacey picked up her spoon and watermelon, which she could only stare at.
Flannery straightened her back, which meant that long spine and the sliver of flesh above her jeans was all Stacey could see. “We talk about bikes all the time. Why is that suddenly wrong?”
Tyler sighed and turned his gaze in the direction of the RV. “It isn’t. Picking a fight is.”
“I didn’t pick a fight. She basically told me to shut up.”
She
. Like she wasn’t sitting there looking at that girl’s back. Likeher opinion didn’t matter. Like she didn’t belong with them at all. Her presence alone had caused conflict.
Tyler’s voice murmured in Stacey’s brain, but she couldn’t grasp it. She mustered all her will into moving gracefully as she stood and negotiated the bench. “Maybe I should go home.”
“Stace, come on. Don’t be like that,” Tyler said.
She raised a palm toward him. “It’s okay. Y’all are here to talk about motorcycles, and I don’t even ride one.”
“You’re here because Calvin wants you here. Don’t—” Tyler bounded up and came around the table. He caught her by the shoulders. “Don’t make it any worse, okay?”
Stacey trembled beneath the pressure of his hands. “Why is this my fault? Why am I the odd person out?”
“You’re not, and it isn’t. It’s just …” His eyes shifted from her face, almost like the words he wanted were printed in the air behind her. “I don’t even know what this argument is about. It, like, came out of nowhere.”
She tilted her chin up.
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