Peaches

finally, covering up.
    Murphy shrugged. “Nope. The damn bugs. I haven’t gotten one nectarine.”
    Rex laughed. It hurt Murphy to hear his laugh come so easy when she felt so tense. He was always so easy. He was the only guy she’d ever known who acted like she thought a guy should be.
    Rex scanned the tree up and down. “Well, there’s that one up top.”
    Murphy was about to tell him he was full of it when she caught sight of it too. “Oh my God, you’re right.”
    She and Rex looked at each other, and Murphy’s smile grew huge. “I grew a beautiful nectarine.”
    “The tree had nothing to do with it.”
    “Nothing.”
    Rex walked up to the tree and hoisted himself, reaching for the nectarine with a leap.
    “Here you go,” he said, tossing it at her. Murphy caught it against her stomach. It was completely perfect, not one bug. She rubbed the fruit against her shirt, then took a bite.
    “Thanks, Rex.”
    “Yeah.”
    But Murphy could hardly chew.
    “Is it bad?” Rex asked, looking concerned.
    She shook her head. “No…”
    Rex stepped up close to her. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing. Don’t look so freaked out.”
    She blinked at him several times, then twisted her lips toward the shelter of a sarcastic grin. But the grin hadn’t made it all the way onto her face before Rex reached out and put his hands against her shoulders. Murphy’s heart leapt into her throat. In another moment his lips pressed into hers, forcing the smile away completely, fitting like the nectarine had, like the ripest softest sweetest thing in the world. His tongue found its way inside her mouth, pressing against her nectarine-covered tongue. And then he pulled away. She realized his hand was on the back of her hair, and he kept it there, stroking her. The way he looked at her was thoughtful, gauging. Not excited or passionate, but like a friend’s gaze, trying to figure her out.
    She let herself feel his fingers there for a moment, overwhelmed with joy.
    And then the thought of Leeda hit her like a hammer. And all of the joy was replaced by ugly, heavy dread. She nodded forward and pulled out of Rex’s grasp.
    They stared at each other. Murphy had the feeling of being in a dream and out of control, the kind where you woke up and hoped you hadn’t just done what you thought you had. But Rex was real, standing in front of her. He looked exhausted, his eyes directly staring into hers, unashamed.
    “Leeda’s my friend, ” Murphy said low.
    Rex was silent. It was all the fuel she needed. She felt heranger drumming up so that it almost felt like it was real and that it was really him she was mad at. She met his gaze with all the disgust she could muster.
    “M-Murphy,” he stammered. “I’ll tell her. Leeda and I shouldn’t even be…”
    Murphy squinted at him as if she had no idea what he was saying. Like the whole moment was a foreign concept to her. She shook her head. “I don’t even like you.”
    “Murphy…we have this…thing….”
    “Thing?” Murphy searched the sky, faking astonishment, disgusted with her own insincerity. “You’re crazy.”
    When she looked back down, Rex’s confidence had flickered. She could see it in his eyes. Murphy felt her own hurt was too naked, and she looked away, and her eyes lit on the house. A movement drew her eyes to Birdie’s window.
    A silhouette—Birdie’s silhouette—stood there for a moment, the shadow hand flying up to the shadow mouth. The whole figure swayed slightly and then slid to the left, vanishing out of sight. Murphy felt the blood drain out of her face and a sick thudding in her abdomen.
    Rex reached toward her waist, touching it gently. It felt like a lifeline to her. “I want to be with you.”
    Murphy pulled back and glared at him. She was panicked now, her head spinning. She tried to harness the misery she felt and direct it toward him. Her voice came out strangled and hateful. “I don’t want you. Don’t you get it?”
    Rex finally took a step back, and this broke Murphy’s heart. He looked at the house, then back at her, confused and dazed. He shook his head, grinning ruefully, painfully. “I’m an idiot. God, I’m sorry.”
    Murphy felt tears springing to the edges of her eyes. She balled her fists, twisted them in her T-shirt, and croaked, “Leave me alone.”
    Rex nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He turned and walked down the trail.
    Murphy looked up at Birdie’s window desperately, but her silhouette didn’t