the gossip girls watched, entertained to witness her embarrassment.
Mr. Hursley leaned forward, took the mouse and clicked the web page closed. Peter vanished from sight, as if he’d never existed. The void on the screen hit like a punch to her gut.
“Let’s get back on task, shal we?” He arched an eyebrow.
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled wondering how she could go on with anything now that she knew where to find Peter. Everything about him was so near, only a few keystrokes away.
“I don’t want to contact your parents.” He paused and corrected himself. “I’m sorry, I mean your aunt.” Nothing like pity to stay out of trouble.
The two snotty girls stared at her, arrogance worn on their over-made faces. “The brainiac is so strange even her parents don’t want her,” one whispered loudly. The other giggled.
For once Libby didn’t care about their comments. Peter was so close. Just a computer screen away. It took determination not to bring him right back up on the screen. She couldn’t risk Aunt Marge getting a cal. The last thing she wanted was to deal with an Aunt Marge fit. Libby needed a plan. She had to find a way to spend time on the computers without interruption or threat of detention. Just her and Peter alone.
Now she had a mission and the courage to see it through.
# # #
“That’s beautiful, Peter. Something new?” Karen Jamieson eased into the seat across from her son to enjoy the gentle melody as the bus roled toward New Mexico. The other boys played video games in back.
“Yeah, I can’t stop thinking about it.” He held the guitar naturaly, as if it were an extension of his body. His talented fingers manipulated the strings and created a beautiful tune that drifted through the bus.
“That’s always a good sign.” Her son was growing into an amazing young man. Why did time pass so quickly? It seemed just a moment ago, he had cried for his first guitar.
Peter possessed an innate talent for song writing. When inspired, magic flowed and hits were born, but if he tried to force it, the songs flopped.
“You were gone a long time when we stopped in Rockvile,” she said.
“Yeah, great day for a walk.” He strummed, working out a chord. The music held his concentration. “Did you know there are amazing rock formations in there? There’s this trail that goes way back. The temperature is like twenty degrees cooler and there are ferns and moss growing everywhere.” He stopped playing. “It’s realy cool.”
“Is it your inspiration for this new song?” She suspected so and more.
“Yeah, I guess.” He resumed playing, a dreamy look on his face.
“Did your new friend show it to you?”
His head snapped up. Karen wanted to laugh at how transparent he was.
“How’d you know?”
Her eyebrows rose and head tilted in suggestion.
“Adam.” Peter frowned.
“He can’t help himself. He’s just having fun. So tel me about this girl. What’s her name?”
“Libby.”
“And?”
“And what?” He grinned, not about to offer more.
Why must boys always be so evasive? Getting information out of them was like puling teeth. “Tel me about her. When my son disappears for two hours with a girl, I get to ask questions.”
“Mom, I’l be eighteen soon and then you don’t get to ask any more,” he teased.
“That’s what you think. Mothers have amazing powers of persuasion.”
“There’s not much to tel. She lives in Rockvile.”
“Two hours and that’s al you got? You want to tel me how you filed the rest of the time?”
Peter grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Young man, I did not raise you to treat girls like that.” She trusted him, though. Peter wasn’t the type of kid to act out or rush into anything without thinking it through.
“Here’s something juicy for you. She’s never heard of Jamieson.”
She eyed him, doubtful. Everyone knew about Jamieson; unless they lived under a rock.
“I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t think it possible either, but she had no idea. It’s pretty nice realy. When I told her about the band, she figured we play weddings and school dances.”
“I see why you like her,” Karen said. Peter was attracted to things that were low-key and simple, which explained how he could write such powerful lyrics. They came from the heart.
“She’s nice.” He offered nothing more and began to play again.
She worried about the boys growing up in a business where girls constantly adored them. It was not an atmosphere conducive to meeting the right kind of girls or making real friends. Dating was another chalenge.