way I might have before. Moreover, I don’t want to.
She slips out the door, closing it with a click behind her. I wait until I hear her opening the front door and talking to Pete. He says, “Someone left a bike in front of the house. You know anything about that?” but I don’t stick around for Peyton’s response. I shimmy out the window and drop low to the ground. When I’m sure the coast is clear, I book it back to the bush and my bike.
Naturally, Amanda Carlisle is at her mailbox, flipping through the envelopes one by one. When she catches sight of me running out of Peyton’s yard like I’m being chased by a pack of wolves, she regards me curiously. Then she breaks out in a big grin.
“Hey, I know you. Aren’t you in my bio class? You were my lab partner a few weeks ago, right?”
I freeze like a deer caught in headlights. I turn to her and smile, trying to act nonchalant, but my adrenaline is pumping. Of course she chooses to strike up a conversation as I’m trying to get the hell out of here. Story of my life.
“Hey, what’s up?” I casually lean against my bike, which causes it to pitch over with a loud crash. At least that makes her laugh. I fumble to right the bike, and she’s already halfway across the street by the time I regain my composure.
“What’s your name again?”
“Hank. Hank Kirby.” I shoot a quick glance toward Peyton’s house, hoping Pete won’t come outside to see what the racket is about.
“Right. Do you live over this way?” She eyes my highly fashionable Shop ’n Save polo.
“I…uh…I was just bringing Peyton some groceries,” I lie.
“On your bike?”
“She needed some stuff. You know, milk and bread and…um…toilet paper.” A million items in the supermarket and I have to mention toilet paper. Jesus.
“You’re friends with her?” Amanda’s face crinkles like she’s smelled something foul.
“Uh…kinda. I know her from school.” I don’t know why I get so nervous around Amanda. It’s like I go into hyperdrive, especially my mouth. “It’s not like we hang out or anything. I see her and we say hi and stuff, but we’re not close. She hasn’t been at school though, so I figured I’d bring her work by because, you know, if I was out sick, I’d want someone to bring me my work so I didn’t fall behind.” It’s like a bullshit burrito: bullshit sprinkled in cheese, wrapped in a layer of more bullshit.
Amanda looks confused. “I thought you said you were bringing her groceries.”
“Oh yeah, I brought her groceries and homework.” Dumbass.
“That’s very nice of you,” Amanda says and runs her finger absently over her bottom lip. I’m mesmerized. “I didn’t think she had any friends.” She peers past me at Peyton’s house, then leans in a little, cupping her hand around her mouth, and says in a loud whisper, “She’s kind of weird. Truthfully, she scares me a little. I swear, strange stuff happens over there. Yelling, loud noises, smoke—even at all hours of the night. Everyone wishes they’d move. They’re bringing down the whole neighborhood.”
I don’t know what to say and I can’t bring myself to make eye contact with her, so I glance back toward Peyton’s house. “It’s a nice neighborhood.”
Amanda continues as if she didn’t hear me. “Plus, I never see her parents. Which explains why the house has become such an eyesore. Seriously, how hard is it to mow a lawn once in a while? My parents say the guy who owns the place will rent to anyone as long as the check clears the bank.”
Her mention of the lawn makes me think of accidentally scorching hers, and I reflexively shoot a glance at it.
She giggles conspiratorially and I swear she’s flirting with me, so I play along. I don’t want to screw up this moment. I’m having a bona fide conversation with Amanda Carlisle. This doesn’t happen every day. Not in my world.
“Yeah, it’s pretty much a train wreck over there.”
I feel my insides twist. It’s the truth, but saying it so casually feels like I’m throwing Peyton under the bus. I try to ignore my conscience and focus on Amanda—the dimple in her left cheek when she smiles, the little flecks of gold in her blue eyes when the light hits them just right, the winding trail of freckles down her neck leading underneath her sweater. I wonder how many more are hiding under there.
Right