Peaches

can do
    C. can’t let anybody else get attention
    II. Selfish
    A. about who gets the most attention
    B. about Rex
    III. Evil
    A. no need to elaborate here
    But the difference between you and my other friends is that they buy into the crap, but you believe in me in spite of it. My parents don’t. And I don’t know if I’m willing to go along the rest of my life with people who don’t get me. Or try to makepeople think I’m one way when I’m really another now that I know it can be different. You and Birdie make me make sense. I think I’d rather forgive you.
    Murphy sucked in her breath, unsure whether to be offended or not.
    I can see you getting pissed off here. The truth is you wanted my guy, and you got him. And that is really hurtful, Murphy. But also, I know it makes sense. When I put aside the stuff I’m insecure about, I see it’s not just the way it is. The confident, unafraid part of me knows it’s the way it’s supposed to be. I can’t believe I’m saying that. But truthfully, even though I love the guy, I know he’s not for me.
    Here is where I get to my apology. I know I let you down. I’m still hurt and jealous, even if I don’t need Rex anymore and I want to kick him in the balls. So please don’t expect me to say it more than once. But Murphy, I’m really sorry. I was hurt, and I don’t believe any of the stuff I said. I’m really sorry. Damn, that’s twice.
    Murphy took a long deep breath.
    It’s in your best interest to forgive me, you know. I am a girl people want to be friends with. Ha. And on top of that, I’m a good friend. Because I believe in you too. With you and Birdie, I am the kind of friend I always thought I should be. I didn’t think that would ever happen.
    Anyway, thanks for the summer. It was the best I ever had.
    Love,
    Leeda hadn’t signed her name. She’d just drawn a little swan at the bottom of the page.
    “Murph?”
    “I want the bag she sent me too.”
    “It won’t fit through the hole.”
    Murphy stood up and rubbed away the tears gathering in her eyes so Rex wouldn’t see and unlocked the door. He pushed it open and held out the bag. “It’s from me anyway.”
    Murphy took it and looked inside. It was filled with nectarines. Messed up as it was, she was suddenly pissed off at Rex on Leeda’s behalf. He looked so vulnerable, though, and so in love with her that the anger evaporated and didn’t come back.
    “You should have brought peaches. These are only my second favorite.”
    Rex smiled unsurely. “If I brought you your favorite now, what would you have to look forward to?”
    She glowered at him.
    “I can’t help it, Murphy. You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met.”
    Murphy knew that people only recognized parts of each other. But also, she was very cool.
    Murphy couldn’t help smiling. Rex leaned toward her, and she pressed her nose into the softness of his cheek, tilting herhead forward so that their faces fit like a puzzle, and her eyelashes fluttered against his skin.
    “I gotta go,” she whispered, keeping her face there.
    “Please don’t.”
    “I’ll be back,” Murphy said, pulling away. She grabbed her purse and her keys while Rex stood in the doorway, wounded.
    She rested a hand gently on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be my boyfriend, right?”
    He smiled, his body relaxing. “Yeah. That’s what I was thinking.”
    “Great. I’ve never had one.” Murphy pressed her lips against his, softly. And then she turned and walked toward her bike. Yellowbaby had died for good.

    Even in cases where she was extremely nervous, Murphy liked the element of surprise. She didn’t call Leeda to let her know she was coming. She just showed up at Breezy Buds Plantation, only to be told that Leeda had gone out and that they didn’t know where.
    Murphy hopped back on her bike. It was over ten miles to the orchard, and there was no guarantee she was there. But Murphy was impatient. She couldn’t go home and wait. So she pedaled. Thankfully, the air had started to get cooler.
    The orchard already felt different when she pulled onto the drive. Like a person, even a little bit of time had changed it a little. It was the first day of September, and on cue the leaves had started to turn slightly brown; the peaches had all disappeared. It felt like the orchard was curling up on itself to wait for the winter, hoping to keep warm.
    Murphy was sweaty and exhausted when she pulled up infront of the house in a cloud of driveway dust that