chapter 8
ALONE in his office at Enoch Industries, Gabriel answered an e-mail to a Malaysian computer component supplier: they would need double their previous order for this quarter. When he proof read the message, then hit send, he checked his inbox, found nothing new, so he closed his lap-top. Looking around his desk, all he saw was a crystal pen holder, his phone, and the brilliant shine of his black enamel desk.
This had always been the best part of his day. Even in high school and college, once he’d gotten every last bit of work done, he felt an immense sense of peace. Nothing orbiting on the periphery of his thoughts—that was how he liked everything, which explained the Spartan furnishings he’d chosen for his office. Gabriel didn’t like distractions of any kind. Single minded was what he knew people thought of him, but he knew that to keep track of such a large company as Enoch Industries you needed a clear mind. Otherwise things could get ugly fast.
But it would be nice to have a photograph of her on his desk.
The thought left him momentarily breathless. Honestly, he knew that could never happen. Even if he tried to…Delia was renown, as was her family, quite notoriously so. It would start a war, and though he would gladly give up anything to be with her…war would be unthinkable.
He was about to hit the intercom button and tell his assistant, Laurel, that she could go home. He was about to wrap things up before heading off to the gym and then home. But just as he was about to touch the button Laurel’s cheery little voice sang through the intercom and announced that his uncle Dante wanted a word.
“Send him in,” Gabriel said as he got up out of his chair and moved in front of his desk to greet the older man.
Dante was swift and almost beat him to the front of the desk.
“So, how did things go?” Gabriel invited Dante to sit with a wave of his hand, and then took a seat on the edge of his desk. “I presume you worked out the details.”
“Well, someone had to.” Dante’s voice wasn’t unkind, but he did seem a little put out.
“Uncle, I’ve been swamped here all week. And I knew I could trust you to negotiate the most efficient deal.” Gabriel felt uneasy at the look his uncle had on his face. “What kind of deal did you work out, uncle?”
“Let’s just say,” Dante spread his hands out, a gesture Gabriel knew meant Dante was confounded. “From the way the girl negotiates for herself, she should be well worth the trouble.”
Trouble? “You mean she didn’t let Luvici do the talking?”
“Not once money came into the conversation. She obviously thought Francis was under appreciating her worth.” He smiled wryly as he shook his elegant head. “It really was good to see such…gumption in someone of her generation.”
“If you can equate gold digging with gumption,” Gabriel scoffed, “then sure, she’s a catch.”
“I’m just saying, if she’s that persuasive and convincing, then she should be in her element when it comes to fooling your parents…and your Uncle Remy.” Dante scowled as he checked his watch. “He’d love nothing more than to discredit you…and you father. He is second in line.”
“Not with Micah and me in the picture. More like fourth in line.”
“Fine. But he still would cherish the opportunity to disgrace you, especially so publically. Delia is a very dangerous liability—”
“Delia is the woman I’m in love with!” Gabriel cut across his uncle. “That hardly makes her a disgrace!”
But Gabriel’s glower diminished at the weary look in his uncle’s eyes.
“Don’t delude yourself.” Dante said as he stood to leave. He clasped his nephew around the shoulders, his hands warm but firm. “Whether this bit of subterfuge succeeds or not, she will never be accepted by the family. And for as long as you keep this relationship going, then you will be vulnerable.”
Before he left the room he turned back to Gabriel. “By the way, you should procure a picture of Miss Hart and display it on your desk. It will look more than a little strange not to.”
Gabriel grimaced, feeling like he was choking on his own heart as he fought not to howl with the pain. “Of course, uncle,” he said. “Good idea.”
Dante left the room. He hadn’t brought anything into the room, but Gabriel suddenly felt his office was cluttered with thoughts he was indeed lending a blind eye to. He just couldn’t see a world without Delia in it. And if he had to lie to his parents, and so many more, and if he had to pretend to be involved with an opportunist grifter like Lucy Hart, he would gladly do so. Anything not to lose Delia…
~*~
Life at Four Corners High School became much more interesting. With Lucy’s far superior and sexier wardrobe, and the return of her well coifed and manicured beauty, what also returned to Lucy was the attention of her fellow man…and, unfortunately, her fellow women.
Guys followed her around between classes, swarmed around her at her locker like flies. Some would do all sorts of wild things to get her attention. Mock grappling matches, cursing—belittling each other’s characters, athletic prowess, and man-hoods. This she kind of enjoyed. She’d missed having constant male attention.
In contrast, she disliked the attention she now received from the female populace at Four Corners High. Where, back at her old school, she’d been the queen bee of every aspect of her High School society. Cheer Squad Captain, Student Body President (which she’d won by a landslide—apparently a landslide of fearful, sycophantic and rather hateful subjects) she was dating the captain of the football and wrestling squad (same guy,) and she’d been crowned Home Coming Queen only a few days before her father had been arrested for tax evasion and immigrant slave trafficking. All the popular girl’s had groveled at her Jimmy Choo’s—though she now knew they’d both feared and hated her—and all other girls had fled at the sight of her—more fear and hatred.
But at Four Corners, her sudden appearance upgrade had caused an aftershock of overtly hateful girls, in all social brackets. The Goth chicks made nasty hissing sounds, and threw little wads of paper at Lucy’s head. The art chicks and the brain-trust girls joined forces and filled the girl’s restrooms with derogatory artwork (resplendent with nasty remarks scrolled underneath) and some rather clever math equations slandering Lucy with statistics of her obvious whoredome, and logistics on how buoyant her “Fake Tits” were.
The cheerleaders were more subtle. They leered and sneered, made mean little quips whenever Lucy passed by, and even tried slamming her against a bank of lockers once. They’d tried, but Lucy was well versed (to her now reluctant horror) in cheerleader war strategies.
There had been two of them—the rest of the squad was watching from a safe distance. Their first mistake was they stalked behind Lucy for far too long. By the time they decided to make their move, Lucy had made them and had her counter attack all ready. A fake toward the lockers and a quick side step, then a well practiced “accidental bump” maneuver she’d mastered her freshman year, and the two pompom shakers crash landed into their own trap with two incredibly loud crashes. One got a sprained ankle, the other a bloody nose. And Lucy flitted to safety without a scratch, and without anyone but the now seething cheer squad any the wiser.
Seething or not, the little incident made the pompom mafia keep their distance, and even though the rest of the feminine clicks in school still trash talked her, they didn’t bother her either.
Lucy had gone from non-existent to infamous in just a matter of days. And she’d been especially taken aback by the reason. She’d overheard, while obscured in a stall in the girl’s restroom, that “That new Lucy girl is such a bitch! I mean, where the hell did she even come from?”
Lucy sat there confused for a moment as the two verbally degraded her. Lucy wasn’t new. She’d been going to Four Corners for almost seven months. And then it hit her.
No one had even noticed me before, she cringed. And I mean no one.
When the trash talking cheerleaders left Lucy emerged from the stall and gave herself a long look in the mirror. Her old self was back in place as if she’d never left, making Lucy wonder where the Lucy she’d been for the last six months had gone. Were they the same person, or should she be mourning her lose?
Meet the once invisible, now bright and shiny and hated me.
How did I ever get through high school like this?
~*~
Getting to quit McDonalds and not having her family know was a blessing. It afforded her the necessary spare time to drive to San Bernardino every day, do some essential shopping, then have dinner with Gabriel in his very large, very cold office.
Not that the room was cold, literally. It was just the décor. And since Gabriel was always late, held up with business meetings and phone calls and e-mails and text messages, Lucy had quickly become intimate with his office.
A sleek black desk was neatly stacked with file folders and a laptop. No pictures—except for the one of Lucy that he’d snapped with her standing by the window of his office, and had printed and slapped into a generic black plastic frame his secretary, Laurel, had found in stock in the supply cabinet. Lucy liked the photo. The window had bathed her in a most flattering light, and the confusion that he wanted a picture of her had conjured in her had lent a kind of innocence to her expression that Lucy had never seen in a picture of herself before. She just couldn’t stop looking at it. She wondered if Gabriel ever looked at it. It was on his desk…but Gabriel was always on the move. A hands-on kind of CEO, Gabriel was always checking on things in the company personally.
So Lucy, having passed bored while waiting for Gabriel in his office, took it upon herself to change the cheap black plastic frame with a sleek, chic pure silver frame that she charged to her Enoch Industries charge card.
Unfortunately, the rest of the office was just as cold and impersonal. Expensive, though glacially boring black leather chairs finished the minimalistic extent of furnishings. Well, there was a matching black leather couch, and compared to the stiff confines of the chairs, it was a comfy alternative.
That was where she spent most of her time waiting on Gabriel to show up. She did her home work, down loaded I-tunes to her I-phone, and stared at the few framed photographs on Gabriel’s walls.
At first Lucy had discounted them for business contacts, like trophies. She’d seen those kinds of pictures hanging in the offices of every Lawyer her father had worked with…including her father’s office. Only one photo sat on his desk, and that was one of the whole family, posed in their living room, groomed to the nines, photographed by a professional and airbrushed to perfection. She’d known Seth had had a zit on that day, yet it was missing when the photo showed up on her Daddy’s desk.
But boredom leads to curiosity, and before she knew it Lucy was examining the collection of wall memorabilia. To her relief and amusement, they weren’t just the typical family and business acquaintance photos. The people in the shots were dressed casually—including Gabriel in the few he was actually in—and they all looked ridiculously happy. Not posed, but like you took a candid snap shot at a really fun party where everybody knows everyone, and they all like each other.
She’d heard of such parties, but had long ago chalked them up to legend and Hollywood fantasy. But the people who were in Gabriel’s pictures were different. Whether his family or his friends (she was surprised he had any,) these people were having the best time, and they all seemed to really adore Gabriel.
Looking harder at the shots with Gabriel in them, she was startled at how little that person seemed to resemble the all-business all-the-time business suit clad man she’d gotten to really loath in the last few days.
She was standing on the couch, balancing herself with both hands against the wall, peering wide eyed and entranced at a particularly strange shot of a shirtless Gabriel—she couldn’t get over how beautiful and unbelievably well built he was…and the deep dark tan he had didn’t hurt either—leaning against the railing of a sail boat. On one side of him was a gorgeous young woman in a bikini top and cut off denim shorts. Lucy recognized her as her shopping partner for the last week, Elaina. On the other side of Gabriel was another stunning specimen of young male erotic fantasy. At least four inches taller, lighter complexioned, yet sporting his own wonderfully tanned, shirtless torso, the other guy had longer, shaggier hair that obscured some of his face, and a smile that just radiated playfulness. He had his arm draped over Gabriel’s shoulders.
Lucy had discounted her original assumption that Gabriel was gay when Elaina had let slip about his girlfriend Delia. But just seeing the two very happy, smoking hot guys in such a pose, she couldn’t help speculating again.
“You’re going to fall,” Lucy jerked with the shock of hearing Gabriel’s voice coming from right behind her. She’d slipped her high heels off when she’d mounted the leather couch, and when she whirled around to see Gabriel her feet slipped and she fell over into Gabriel’s arms.
He held her steady, his face only inches from hers, but he didn’t seem the least bit disturbed.
Glacial really is the word to describe him.
Lucy, on the other hand was feeling her pulse rate start to take off, feeling the dense musculature of Gabriel’s chest through his alarmingly conservative silk dress shirt. He even smelled good.
His gaze never wavered as he gently set her down on her bare feet, then gave only the faintest of smiles as he moved to his desk and hit the intercom.
“Laurel, has my order from Szechuan Garden arrived?”
“Yes, Mr. Enoch. Should I bring it in?”
“Yes please…” He gave Lucy a sly sort of look. “And could you scrounge up a step ladder? Lucy is finding some parts of my office vertically challenging.”
“Of course.”
Lucy felt herself blush with embarrassment. Vertically challenged! “You’re just too tall.” She retorted lamely.
“Obviously.” Gabriel moved over to her again, his smile becoming a little more evident. He reached up over the couch and took the photograph Lucy had been admiring from the wall and handed to Lucy.
“You know Elaina.” Lucy nodded. “And that big lug next to me is my brother, Micah.”
“Brother…” Okay, Lucy thought. This family has a very nice gene pool, so far. Then a pissy snit came over her. “Don’t you think telling me you have a brother would be a good idea?”
“Truthfully, I pretend he doesn’t exist.”
Lucy snorted. Gabe has a sense of humor?
“I just mean, he’s younger and really immature, and ever since I took over the CEO position from my father, he’s been pissed with me.”
“Because he’s jealous?” she asked.
Gabriel actually laughed, and Lucy stared at him in stunned silence.
“No, he wants nothing to do with the family business…” Gabriel’s features softened as he seemed to fall into his own thoughts. “He just misses…” He looked to Lucy embarrassed. “He misses how things were before I graduated college and…”
“Became a tight-assed corporate shark?” Lucy offered.
Gabriel grimaced. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”
Lucy enjoyed getting a reaction out of Gabriel, even a snarky one. She looked at the picture in her hands again, and felt sorry for Gabriel and his brother. Especially his brother.
“He just misses having a playmate,” Gabriel said bitterly.
Lucy locked her gaze on Gabriel’s face, really looking at him. “He misses his brother.”
They stood there for a moment in a strange, comfortable silence.
Gabriel shook his head and took the photo out of Lucy’s hands and replaced it back on the wall, centering it perfectly. “When did you get all insightful?” he said when he turned back to Lucy and gave her a surprisingly wide smile. But his eyes were still leery.
“Oh, I’ve got loads of exceptional qualities,” Lucy said, backing away from him and feigning interest in the huge bag of Chinese food Laurel had just brought in and placed on Gabriel’s desk. She also had a shiny red metal step stool in her other hand.
“Will this do?” Laurel asked, holding it up for Lucy and Gabriel’s inspection.
Gabriel looked to Lucy and raised his eyebrows.
“Y-yes,” Lucy stammered. “Thank you very much.”
Laurel left the red stool right beside the black leather couch. It was by far the brightest thing in the room, and just looking at it filled Lucy with an odd sense of triumph.
~*~
Lucy didn’t want to look like a tanning bed reject, and she didn’t want that over done Malibu Barbie bronze. But she did want to get rid of the unhealthy pallor that working at McDonalds for the last six months had given her. She hadn’t realized it, but going to school, and going to work, and not hanging out with any friends had really given her no time to actually spend in the sun. And she loved having a nice tan.
Lying out in the sun made her feel like her life battery was recharging, like her body and soul were filled with sunlight and she was gleaming with its energy. She’d missed it. Screw it if it wasn’t good for her. The very air she breathed probably wasn’t good for her. Of course, looking about her at the bright, clear periwinkle sky of Four Corners California, she had to admit that there wasn’t really any poisonous smog rolling overhead. It was really quite beautiful. There was even a thicket of trees, the beginning of a forest, right at the edge of her backyard. It was actually at the edge of every backyard on the block, but Lucy liked to think that it was more part of her backyard than anyone else’s.
Lucy was lying out on a beach towel in the back yard, wearing a cute little pink and yellow bikini she’d picked up on her last shopping trip with Elaina. That and the most gorgeous leather coat, blood red with Italian silk lining. It came down just to the tops of her thighs, with a sweet matching belt. She looked like a freaking spy in that coat. Like Angelina Jolie in Mr. and Mrs. Smith…no, thinking back on it, she actually looked better. She looked like the absolute—accept no substitutes—goddess of spies.
Lucy tactfully tied the straps of her bikini top around her again. She hated tan lines, especially if she was going to be wearing anything revealing. She was careful she was securely covered before she turned over—no need giving the neighbors a free show.
She adjusted her straps and put on her new pair of sunglasses. Just looking through the amber lenses made the world so much prettier. They weren’t even designer eyewear, yet they were elegant looking, and the moment she’d put them on and looked through them, she’d loved them. Things that would be just too dark through black or gray shades popped out under the amber tones. She sipped her green tea and checked the time on her I-Phone. Twenty more minutes and she’d head in. No need frying on her first day out.
There was another week before the engagement party. She was just glad she didn’t have to meet the parents beforehand—which was actually kind of strange. Not that Lucy had met many of her ex-boyfriend’s parents. Usually she’d get tired of them and would have tactfully dumped them before any such meeting would be discussed. But Lucy had seen plenty of romantic movies where there was the whole meeting the future in-laws thing. And it did strike Lucy as odd that she wouldn’t be meeting the parents until the engagement party.
Of course, if she thought it was odd, she could just imagine what they were thinking. But maybe they were just strange, or archaically traditional. Maybe they could remember the days when marriages were arranged and you didn’t meet your spouse until the day of the wedding.
The mere thought made Lucy shiver. How horrible to have to go through such an agonizing wait, just to meet the person you had to spend the rest of your life with. She was surprised there weren’t more cases of brides-to-be’s falling over dead from heart-attacks, just from the stress such a thing would cause.
No wonder they came up with divorce.
And just then she heard an odd scraping sound. At first it came from far off, but then she realized it was getting closer, and from the street in front of her grandmother’s house. She looked up and saw the most amazing sight coming her way. A driveway led back to the white picket fence surrounding the back yard. On the other side of the fence was a matching driveway, but no fence bisecting their yard. Skating toward Lucy on the other side of the fence was a girl about Lucy’s age…but that was the only similarity.
This girl was on silver and black rollerblades, with blue and yellow striped socks that came up to her knees, black tights under a blue and yellow catholic school girl skirt—much like the one Lucy had gotten Jeff Haas to don right before her father’s unfortunate run in with the law—and the craziest pink T-shirt Lucy had ever seen. It said “Bad Kitty!” and had a blue cartoon cat licking its bloody front paws. The rest of the T-shirt had the little feline’s bloody paw prints all over it.
And that was just her clothes. She had pink and blue eye shadow on, too much eyeliner and mascara, and the red of her lips matched the bloody paw prints on her shirt perfectly. The hair…jet black striped with hot pink, braided into two long ponytails that trailed from the top of her head down to her shoulders.
Before her life had imploded, Lucy might have…no, she probably would have been cruel and dismissive, making fun of this girl to her disciples on the cheer squad…but she didn’t have any disciples anymore. Hell, she didn’t even have any friends anymore, and if the last seven months had taught her anything it was all those friends she thought she’d had weren’t her friends at all.
That thought alone made a cool loneliness crawl across her flesh—even with the eighty-five degree sun she was sunbathing beneath. Just looking at this girl, in her ridiculous get up, with her ears plugged into her MP3 player, dancing as she twirled around on her skates with uninhibited joy, made Lucy wonder how anyone could be so happy?
Before she knew it Lucy was slipping on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and was padding barefoot across the lawn to the peeling white picket fence that separated the two properties.
“Hey there!” Lucy called out over the fence.
The girl didn’t hear her, spinning with her hands held over her head, her plaid skirt swirling like a cyclone. Lucy couldn’t help but smile. And, though for the life of her she couldn’t understand why, she felt a twinge of envy. Had Lucy really ever been that happy? Even back before the FBI, courtrooms and special sauce?
Suddenly the girl stopped twirling, her bright green eyes locked on Lucy and her mouth fell open in a surprised O. But that only lasted two seconds. The shocked expression melted into a broad, lovely smile, as radiant as the morning sunrise. The kind of smile you expected on fairy princesses in Disney movies.
A small, brilliant cut diamond glittered in her right nostril, making her all the more fairy-like.
With a quick little wink, and then a yank of the earphones, she extended her hand. Nails painted half pink, half black. Silver bracelets dangled from her wrists. “I’m Abbey. Abbey Adams.” Her handshake was strong, not the limp wristed high class handshake of the privileged. This was the hand shake that meant it. She rolled her eyes, tossing her head back toward the house behind her. “I live with my grandma too.”
“How’d you…?”
Abbey shrugged. “Sorry…small town. And your grandma Lillian is friends with my grandma Donna May.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” Lucy gave Abbey another long up and down glance. “I love that outfit.”
“No you don’t.” Abbey said it with the same sweet, brilliant smile as before.
A laugh burst from Lucy’s lips. “You’re right. I don’t, but I’ve got to respect the commitment…to personal fashion, I mean.”
Abbey spun once on her skates as if showing off her look. “Don’t worry. Loads of people think I’m due to be committed somewhere with rubber rooms and a Thorazine drip.”
“And straightjackets?” Lucy suddenly felt the blood rush up to her face. She hadn’t meant to say that. And now she was sure that this new possible friend was sure to think she was just a mean bitch. Lucy opened her mouth to say something, but Abbey smiled that wonderful smile and twirled again.
“Don’t need to go anywhere for that!” She reached out and grabbed Lucy’s hand and dragged her over to a picnic table under a tree, the kind with barely any paint left on it anymore. “Got my own hanging in my closet upstairs.”
An image of Abbey flashed in Lucy’s mind: Abbey twirling around on her rollerblades, mascara running crazily down her face, wrapped from the waist up by a straightjacket, a cadre of white clad orderlies chasing after her.
Lucy tried to shake the vision from her mind, and tried to change the subject.
“So, what were you listening to back there?” Whatever it had been, the music had really made her happy.
“Bad Romance, by Lady Gaga.”
“Oh…” Lucy hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed. She had just wished they had something in common. Lucy hadn’t given Lady Gage even a second glance. Her personal fashion was truly deranged.
“So I take it you don’t go for Lady G, huh? More of a Kelly Clarkson type?”
Lucy knew she should be put off by this girl presuming about her. Presume much? But the chick was right. Behind These Hazel Eyes had been her ring tone…and she used to play Walk Away when she was getting ready for a hot date. “She’s totally valid. A great voice and she writes some of her own songs.”
Abbey just sat there, her lips pulled tight over her teeth, yet a wide grin was breaking across her face. “Fine, fine. Clarkson’s not just the Idol freak. She’s…” She put her hands up to her head like she was receiving a vision. “She’s valid.”
Now she’s just poking fun at me. “I like Pink too.” Which Lucy did. Pink rocked both musically and fashion-wise.
Abbey’s sweet smile morphed into a wicked grin. Lucy was sure little horns were about to sprout from her scalp. “I love Pink!” Abbey pulled the earphone cord out of her MP3 player as her thumbs scrolled through her song menu. A moment later Pink was singing that she had just lost her husband, and she didn’t know where he went.
The little MP3 player must’ve been jacked up, because it sounded more like a boom-box than the usual tinny sound hand held devices had. Even with her skates on, Abbey climbed onto the top of the picnic table and started dancing to the music.
Lucy just sat there and smiled as she watched Abbey go to town. A moment later Abbey grabbed Lucy by the hand and hauled her up on the table with her and against her better judgment Lucy fell into dancing with Abbey, not caring who saw.
Of course, right on cue Lucy heard her brother laugh. She looked down to find him staring up at her and Abbey with triumphant, mean little eyes: regrettably he had hazel eyes too. His hair was the same shade of mahogany brown as Lucy’s, but he kept it in a greasy, sloppy shag cut that almost covered his eyes. He was wearing his usual uniform of worn jeans and a worn T-shirt, with the faded, peeling logo of some long defunct punk rock band across the chest.
Maybe Abbey and he would get along, which wasn’t exactly the way she wanted this new friendship to go.
“What the hell are you two freaks doing?” he chuckled cruelly.
So much for the two of them getting along.
Abbey shot him through with an acid gaze, and then she jumped off the picnic table and landed on the cracked cement of the driveway, just inches from where Seth stood. His mouth fell open, as did Lucy’s. Abbey had landed without a slip or a bobble. Perfect balance—she must live in those roller blades!
Seth gulped as Abbey looked down on him like an angry punk rock goddess, her hands balled in fists on her hips. Seth’s eyes bugged out when she smiled.
“Glass houses,” Abbey said in a sing-song voice.
“W-what?” Seth stammered.
“Well, you just called us freaks.”
“He’s just my creepy little br—” Lucy tried to say, but Abbey cut across her.
“You’ve heard that casting stones when you live in a glass house isn’t smart?”
“I’m not a—”
“Freak?” Abbey finished for him. “Then what are you?” She rolled forward, making him scamper backwards, tripping over his own feet.
“I’m just…just…”
“Just a kid with a big bad secret?”
Lucy stepped down from her perch on the picnic table and walked toward the two of them. The look on her brother’s face was bothering her. He suddenly looked terrified.
“What are you talking about?” he said, his voice cracking.
“You know. That secret you’ve been praying no one would find out about. The one you’ve been praying would just go away.”
“You don’t know shit!” Seth sounded angry now instead of scared. Lucy was about to tell Abbey to let it go, but then Abbey looked around at the air around Seth’s head like she was reading something only she could see. The smile that crossed her lips wasn’t pleasant at all. Her hand came up and she snatched something from the air, her eyes closing as delight radiated all over her face.
“Josh,” Abbey said rapturously.
Seth turned so white the freckles on his cheeks and nose stood out like ink.
Abbey opened her eyes and smiled down at Seth, genuine empathy in her eyes. “He doesn’t even know, does he?”
Seth started shaking his head violently.
“More like he doesn’t even know you exist, right stone-boy?”
Seth looked about to puke when he spun around and ran for the house like he was being chased by a pack of wolves.
When the back door slammed shut behind him, Abbey turned and smiled her beautiful, brilliant smile again. “Sorry,” she said. “I just can’t stand people calling me a freak.”
“Yeah,” Lucy said, still looking after Seth with amazement. “I got that.”
“Funny thing to get bent out of shape about,” Abbey said as she rolled toward the picnic table again. “Especially when you dress and look like this.” She flourished her hands around her indicating her ensemble.
Lucy just stood there, still shocked to see her brother looking so afraid, and the actual gist of the conversation Abbey and he had just had. Was Seth gay?
Lucy looked at Abbey and shook her head. “Are you some sort of psychic or something?”
“Witch, actually.”
“Oh,” She was starting to feel pretty stupid saying that over and over.
“But I didn’t need any magic powers to see through him.”
“Really?” Lucy shook her head again and looked after her brother again. “I had no idea.”
“Sometimes strangers can see things clearer than people close to you.” Abbey’s expression turned, only for a moment, very sad. “And he had Josh’s name written on the inside of his palm, with a heart framing it.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow, smiling. “So, you’re a grifter?” Lucy had always wanted to use that word in conversation.
Abbey shot her a cocky smile. “I’ve picked up a lot just watching people at school, on the bus…wherever I am. One good thing about not having any friends, you get to really pay attention to those around you.”
Lucy sighed. “Too bad. Having a witch as a friend could come in handy.”
Abbey set a level gaze at Lucy, the smile drifting from her face. “You must think I’m crazy. There can’t really be witches…magic…it’s just too crazy…”
“I didn’t say that.” Lucy plopped back down on the picnic table. “I’m just saying it’s not stupid or lame to believe in stuff. I’m sure witches and a ton of other things are actually real…except for the Easter Bunny.”
Abbey snorted. “And Santa Claus.” She plopped down on the picnic bench right beside Lucy. “They’re both just capitalistic propaganda.”
Lucy smiled, remembering back to a certain Christmas present she found under the foot of her bed when she was eight. A present that no one in the world knew she wanted: a harmonica. Her mother wrapped everything in glossy paper with sparkly ribbons and bows. That package was covered in plain red paper, no bows or ribbons. She’d known immediately that it had come from Santa Clause.
“No. There really is a Santa Clause.”
Abbey looked at her like she was crazy now, and then shook her head. “Okay, there’s a Santa Clause.”
Lucy smiled. “But definitely no Easter Bunny. A giant Bunny hiding candy and pastel colored hardboiled eggs around the house. It’s just too creepy!”
They nodded their heads in agreement.