Peaches

piece of lemon?”
    “No, I…I think it’s great.” Birdie shot a look at Murphy. Despite how mean she’d been to Birdie yesterday in the dorm, Birdie disliked her much more at this moment.
    Murphy gave her a “what did I do?” look back and then rolled her eyes to show that if she had done something, she really didn’t care. Then she looked at Enrico, then back at Birdie, then at Enrico, and something in her green eyes clicked.
    Enrico gazed at his car, then nodded at Murphy. “I pay too much. You are right.”
    “Why don’t you two go for a ride?” Murphy suggested, looking from Enrico to Birdie and back.
    Enrico shrugged, swiveling his hips toward Birdie and pulling his hands out of his pockets. “You want to go?”
    “Um—well,” Birdie stammered. Immediately the picture ofher and Enrico riding down Orchard Drive together played like a movie in her head, with Birdie leaning against the window in the breeze and Enrico laying a hand gently on her leg. It sent shock waves up her actual, real leg. Birdie felt her body go ramrod straight.
    “Can’t. I’ve gotta get back to the house. Work…”
    “Oh.” Enrico frowned.
    Birdie gave him a hard, fake smile and turned back toward the house, walking at a clip. Behind her the car engine coughed to life again. Once it had pulled away, no doubt to be parked behind the dorms, she turned to watch the workers trailing back inside. Only Murphy McGowen stood with her hands on her hips and stared after her.
    Once Birdie got inside the house, the phone rang. She could see on the caller ID that it was her mom, calling for the fifth time that day. Birdie chose to screen the call.

Chapter Six
    O ver the next couple of days Murphy steered clear of as much work as possible.
    Each morning she listened to the other workers rise at dawn and hid her head under her pillow, waiting for them to go away so she could fall back asleep, trying her best to ignore the blue jay that started chirping as soon as everybody else went out. At night she was too exhausted by the little work she did do to break curfew, which was at ten. She wondered if the fresh air had too much oxygen in it.
    Between the time work ended and lights-out, Murphy was free to do what she liked. But unlike the others, she wasn’t allowed to do it outside of the circle delineated by the dorms, the supply barn, and the house. She walked this circle endlessly like a caged tiger until she knew every inch of grass on the way from Camp A to Camp B to the Darlingtons’ front porch. She’d noticed the way Walter checked up on her from time to time, coming by the dorms a couple of times each evening. She looked for Rex and spotted him once or twice, but he didn’t come around the dorms, and their interactions were limited toMurphy glimpsing him here and there and not getting glimpsed back.
    On Wednesday afternoon she was meandering along her usual evening route when she noticed Poopie Pedraza placing a small statue on the railing of the porch. She knew Poopie had just been to the dump, but she didn’t make the effort to ask Poopie what it was or if that’s where she’d gotten it. The statue looked like some kind of tiny saint—it wore a red cape and had its hands pressed together in prayer. Murphy was staring at the statue and walking, and so she didn’t notice Walter Darlington until she was right in front of him.
    “I was just coming to find you.” Walter was wearing a frayed straw hat with a leather loop around the front, which he tugged slowly as he spoke. “Judge Abbott called to check on your progress.” Murphy squinted up at him, her hands over her eyes, not replying. “I told him you have a couple of choices. You can start getting up on time with everyone else, or you can work the hours you miss at midday.” Walter paused, making sure his words were sinking in. “He offered to remove you to a road-cleaning crew instead.” Murphy continued to squint at him, but Walter didn’t seem bothered. “It’s your choice,” he said, and brushed on past her, his broad farmer’s back listing slightly left to right as he walked.
    On Thursday morning Murphy crawled out of bed at dawn.
    Through Thursday and Friday she spent most of each morning trying to look as busy as possible while doing very little. She stood in front of the farthest trees with her Walkman blaring, tugging occasionally at the peach nubs and then resting her arms. She liked to go back to the farthest trees of the row they’dbeen told