Peaches

shell. Rex had shown Leeda one once at the pet store, which he’d dragged her into, and it had looked all wrong.
    “God, I hate this. I hate her. Life is not enough for her unlessthere’s some jerk around to treat her like crap. And she rolls over for them. A guy comes in, and suddenly it’s his house, and…” She looked up like suddenly she realized she was talking out loud, and her eyelids drooped. And then she leaned to the left, peering beyond Leeda’s calves. Leeda turned to look.
    A shadow was crossing the grass toward them.
    Birdie stopped several feet away, her dogs at her feet, her hair down from its usual ponytail and all ratted up around her face. Leeda’s first instinct was to check her watch, knowing they were out past curfew. She started to pluck up an excuse.
    “I’ve been looking for you guys.” Birdie swiped the ratty hair back, but some of it stuck to her temples wetly. She looked very serious and nervous, and her chest rose and fell unevenly. Which made what came out of her mouth next sound out of place, and funny, and formal. “I was wondering if maybe you’d take me to sneak out.”
    Leeda looked down at Murphy, who stood up and brushed herself off, eyeing Birdie suspiciously but also with a slight smile creeping onto her lips.
    “I know you think I’m a spy,” Birdie said. “But it’s not my fault.” Her big brown eyes scanned their faces. “If I don’t do something…I don’t know….”
    Leeda didn’t know why, but she felt the decision was Murphy’s, as if some kind of unspoken agreement had already been struck between them, and they were two against Birdie’s one, and Murphy was the boss of the two.
    “I’m going to explode,” Birdie blurted, making them both look at her again. She blushed. “Seriously,” she added. “I thought you guys might…help….”
    It took a few seconds, but Murphy’s face took on an amused, eureka expression. Like of course Birdie was here to sneak out. And of course she, Murphy, got that. Murphy transformed in front of Leeda like a hermit crab getting its shell back. She was suddenly the girl from that night they’d gone swimming, tough but irresistible. “I told you,” she said, pointing to Birdie but looking at Leeda, “this girl is a powder keg.”
    “I know where we can get some booze,” Birdie offered. And then her eyes widened in surprise, as if a lightning bolt might strike her. But it didn’t. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

    “You guys, I’ve gotta take them. They’ll start barking if I try to lock them up.”
    “Oh God,” Murphy said. “Let’s go.”
    They had already made it halfway across the orchard when Murphy realized Honey Babe and Majestic were still trailing them. The dogs had stopped when she’d turned, while they were still several feet behind, and now they both tilted their heads at the same exact angle, looking at her woefully as if they sensed her hatred.
    “They look like cartoons.”
    Birdie smiled sappily. “I know, aren’t they cute?”
    “Damn yippers,” Murphy said. She glanced at Leeda, embarrassed about her little breakdown by the phone. But Leeda seemed to have forgotten it, and already she felt she was recovering impressively. With her mom, mental distance was best. Sometimes her guard went down, but it never took long to resurrect it.
    It helped to have a distraction.
    “We have bichons,” Leeda whispered, “because they’renon-allergenic. Danay’s allergic. I don’t like dogs because they lick.”
    Murphy and Birdie both looked at Leeda quizzically.
    The orchard smelled thick, even thicker than it had in the day, maybe because what little breeze there had been had died. Murphy felt like she could get a toothache from breathing the air, it was so sweet. Leeda, who’d insisted on going back to the dorms for a flashlight this time, shone her Maglite on the trees and the ground, searching for danger. It looked to Murphy like a disco.
    “Can you stop with that thing? You’re gonna get us caught.”
    “Hey, look!” Leeda hissed.
    The beam had paused on one of the trees, lighting a section of it in a big white circle. A tiny brown bird sat on the branch, but it wasn’t moving. They all stepped closer.
    “Is it dead?” Murphy asked.
    Birdie laughed. “It’s sleeping.”
    “Sleeping?”
    They all crept right up to the tree, Birdie leading the way. The bird was perched on one foot with the other tucked into its belly, its eyes closed.
    “Shouldn’t the flashlight