Peaches

fiddled with her pen irritably as she looked at Murphy.
    “Ooh. What are your ideas?”
    Leeda pulled the notebook closer to her chest. “Just some stuff in Atlanta.”
    “What kind of stuff? Read me what you’ve got.” Murphy wagged her feet right and left on the floor.
    “Um. Okay.” Leeda looked down at her list, self-conscious.
    “Part one.”
    Murphy laughed. “Ha, part one,” she slurred, too tired to speak clearly.
    “Dinner. I have three options. The Regal Fez in Buckhead. Bistro Bijou…”
    “She really likes that crap?”
    Leeda stiffened and turned toward Murphy, her gray eyes cool. “It’s not crap. For part two,” she continued, “I’m thinking of renting out a theater at Phipps Plaza.”
    “Your sister wants to go watch a movie on the wildest night of her life?”
    Leeda sighed. “I can’t get into any clubs.”
    “Sure you can. Just flirt with the bouncer.”
    “I don’t do that.” Murphy made it sound so easy.
    “Well, what did what’s-her-face say she wanted to do?”
    Leeda rolled her eyes. She thought about the dinner they’d had at Nikolai’s Roof that had landed her here. “Danay wants to ride the Fur Bus. ” She was looking for Murphy to empathize.
    “That sounds fun,” Birdie piped in. “Maybe you should just do what she wants to do.”
    Even though it had been Birdie speaking, Leeda looked at Murphy as she defended herself. “But then everybody will be getting drunk but me.”
    “Why not you?”
    “I’m supposed to be in charge of everything,” Leeda replied tightly. “I have to be sober.”
    Murphy gazed at her quizzically for a moment. “Oh, I get it.”
    “What?” Leeda asked, even though she didn’t want to know.
    “It’s all about you. You don’t want anything she wants.”
    Leeda snapped the notebook shut. “I’m just trying to make it good.”
    Murphy nodded knowingly, her hair rubbing on the concrete while Leeda stared coolly back.
    “Why do you hate your sister?” Murphy finally said, so matter-of-factly that Leeda wanted to throw her pen at her.
    “I don’t.” Leeda clicked the pen in and out.
    Murphy sat up. “Regal Fez sounds like something you plan for someone you hate.”
    “Listen, I…”
    But Murphy’s eyes had widened. She nodded over Leeda’s shoulder toward Birdie, who was holding a bottle gently on her lap, fondling the label. She appeared to be oblivious to both of them, finally holding the bottle to her face and kissing it.
    “Um, Birdie?” Murphy asked.
    Birdie jerked, drawing the bottle back down to her lap as she looked at them. Murphy slid the bottle out of her hand and read the label out loud. “Darlington Peach Cider. Fine peach cider—sweet and surprisingly crisp—made from fresh Georgia peaches.” She looked at Birdie. “Why were you kissing it?”
    No response. Murphy nodded slowly. “Oh. Oh my. You’re obsessed.”
    Leeda was confused. “Obsessed with peach cider?”
    “You’re obsessed with the cider guy. Enrico.”
    Birdie’s cheeks went scarlet. “No, I’m not.”
    Murphy laughed. “Yep. That guy Enrico. You love him. You want to smell his labels. And then kiss them.”
    Birdie looked mortified. “No, I…”
    Murphy tackled Birdie’s embarrassment the way she had tackled Leeda’s defensiveness a moment before, as if she were oblivious to it. “He’s really cute. You know, I bet he likes you too. I’ve seen you guys together.”
    Birdie laid the bottle down beside her with a clink. “Really?” she asked breathlessly.
    “Birdie!” Leeda felt so out of the loop. How had Murphy noticed when she hadn’t?
    Birdie slid onto her back, sighing. “Oh my God. He’s so amazing.”
    Murphy was grinning from ear to ear. “Have you kissed him on anything but the label yet?”
    “Oh nooo.” Birdie shook her head.
    “Well, why?” Murphy pressed. “Doesn’t he go back to Mexico at the end of the summer?”
    “He lives in Texas.” Birdie said this as if it was the saddest statement she’d ever made in her life. She practically yelped it.
    “Same difference. Why haven’t you made your move?”
    Birdie swallowed. “I’ve never even kissed anyone. ”
    Leeda wasn’t surprised at all, but Murphy jolted like she’d stuck her finger in a socket. She was speechless.
    “I haven’t even really met anyone,” Birdie explained quickly. “You know?”
    Murphy sank back on her hands, rubbing her palms against the dust of the concrete. “Well, we can change that. The thing is, you