To her they seemed like the most magical, perfect family, almost as good as hers had once been.
“We spend too much time together.” He ran his fingers through his long bangs pushing them out of the way. “I can’t tel you how often I wish I could ditch my family. I never get any privacy.”
“That is one thing I have a ton of.” She looked out at the creek as it rushed over age-old rocks. Her days were filed with solitude. Even at school, the kids stayed away. They knew her past was tragic and that made her different. She didn’t match their perfect picket fence lives, so they treated her like a pariah. She didn’t care though. It was better to be alone, than to explain her past.
But sometimes she wished someone special cared about her.
It might be nice to have a friend to keep her from spending too much time alone, or to drag her into a game of Frisbee, or even someone to talk to about nothing at al.
Peter’s voice brought her out of her silent lament.
“I’d like to trade my little brother Adam for more privacy any day.”
Their eyes connected giving her another little jolt. She thought of her little sister. Libby would trade anything for one more day with her.
“I shouldn’t complain,” he continued. “But once in a while, it’d be nice not to have every minute of my life planned.”
“What do you mean?” She hopped from one large rock to the next.
He considered her carefuly. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Of course, I do.” Her backbone stiffened. She hated being talked down to, especialy by Peter. He was not like everyone else, at least not in her eyes. She left his side and moved ahead. She jumped from rock to rock and crossed the stream to the other side.
“Don’t get al stuck up on me, but do you realy understand what I do?”
“Yeah, you sing with your brothers. You travel around in your bus and perform. I’m not a total moron.” Why did he have to show his jerk side? Everything had been perfect.
“I didn’t say you were a moron, but, there’s a lot more to it than that.” Peter easily leapt over the rocks to reach her side. He held her arm to slow her down. The stream rushed by noisily, the raw smels of moss and ferns surrounded them.
“Okay, for example, we just came from New York where we were on Rock Hits Live.”
She stared blankly, arms crossed. She refused to admit her ignorance.
“You don’t know what that is?” He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s a live music interview show. Do you ever watch TV?” He asked in disbelief.
Libby huffed a sigh of irritation. “No. I haven’t laid eyes on a TV for over a year.” Other than Aunt Marge’s ancient set, which was permanently turned to the Home Shopping Network.
She didn’t know why she admitted even that smal detail. She hated when people looked down on her unconventional life, especialy since she had no control over it. She hated it even more from Peter. She refused to believe he was like the others.
“Realy?” He responded.
She could see the unasked question behind his eyes.
“Okay, listen,” he said, determined to help her understand.
“We just came out with our third CD.”
“Yeah, wel anyone can make a CD. We have a media class where kids create them for extra credit.” Ahead an enormous boulder dominated the end of the trail; the creek poured out on each side. Libby climbed over the surrounding rocks, reached the top and sat. Peter folowed.
“Your right, it’s not that hard to put together a CD. But we’ve got a major recording contract. We spent a month in the studio recording our latest music. We’re doing massive publicity for our new CD.”
The more he spoke, the more she noticed a serious side in him. This was his life, and his passion. Libby’s pulse quickened as she listened. It seemed even more impossible he’d be here talking to her.
“Everyday is filed with rehearsals, interviews, and appearances.”
“Realy? That does sounds like a lot.” How foreign it was to her pithy little Rockvile life. He had no idea how easy his life was.
“So between al that work and travel, it doesn’t leave much time to think, let alone relax.”
Peter’s concentration moved from Libby for a moment as he noticed their surroundings. They perched on the top of a huge boulder in the heart of the glen. Every inch of the steep rocky sides