13 Gifts (7 page)

Amanda turns to David. “Nice rescue, Bee Boy.”

David thumps his chest again, then bows deeply.

Bar Mitzvah Boy = The Hamburglar = David Goldberg = Bee Boy?

Noticing my confused expression, Amanda explains, “It’s from a thing that happened in fifth grade.”

“Did he get stung by a bee or something?”

Amanda and Leo laugh. “No,” Amanda says, “he looked like one.”

I glance at David, who, in his blue shorts and white button-down shirt does not in any way resemble a bee. Emily was right; these two are a little odd.

“I didn’t look like a bee,” David insists.

“Yeah, you did,” Amanda says. “You were wearing black and yellow, and you flew out of the classroom door like, well, a bee toward a flower!”

David shakes his head. “I still don’t understand how you just happened to show up that day with a spare drawing of the periodic table in your pocket. I would have failed for sure, otherwise.”

“Doesn’t everyone carry a spare periodic table in their pocket?” Amanda asks innocently. “Hey, remember how you almost killed Leo when you banged the door open?”

David looks confused. “I don’t remember Leo being there.”

Leo scribbles something on his board and tilts it toward Amanda. She slaps herself on the side of the head. “Oh, you’re right, Bee Boy! I was thinking of something else.”

Leo loops the chalk back over his blackboard and turns to me. “Tara, after the party, do you want us to show you around town?”

In my whole life, a boy has never asked me to go anywhere with him. I take a closer look at him. Leo’s definitely cute, with blue eyes, a dimple, and that dark black curly hair. He and Amanda stand very close to each other, but not in a way that makes other people feel left out. Even though he’s obviously not asking me on a date, I honestly have no idea how to respond.

“It’ll be fun,” Amanda insists. “We’ll show you all our favorite places. And I bet we can get a ride out to Apple Grove after.”

Apple Grove doesn’t sound all that exciting. But I’ve lived in enough small towns to know that you take your fun where you can get it. The four of them are waiting for an answer. Mom would be thrilled. I’m here less than twenty-four hours and already four kids my age want to hang out with me. With no breaking and entering involved. I look from one to the other. They all seem so … nice. A little strange (okay, a
lot
strange), but nice.

But I just can’t do it. “I … I lost my cell phone on the train,” I tell them, staring at a random spot over Leo’s left shoulder. “Or it was stolen or something, I’m not really sure. But my uncle’s going to take me to replace it this afternoon.”

Rory grabs hold of my arm. Normally my first instinct would be to pull away. I’m not used to being touched by anyone who isn’t related to me. But I fight the urge because it’s Rory and there’s something different about her.

“That’s not a problem,” she says eagerly. “We could take you there. The phone store’s right downtown. They moved from the mall last summer. Robert’s still the manager, though.”

This girl sure knows a lot about the phone store.

As though reading my mind, she says, “I spend a lot of time there.”

I take that to mean Rory has a crush on the store manager.

“So, Tara,” David says. “How come you decided to spend the summer in the thrill-a-minute town of Willow Falls?”

I stiffen as they all turn toward me expectantly. I mumble something about my mom’s job until Aunt Bethany saves me by showing up with a plate of hot dogs. I could tell them the “no
kids allowed” story, but I really don’t want to lie. I just don’t want to tell the truth, either. I make sure to chew my hot dog slowly and thoroughly, so hopefully by the time we’re done eating they’ll have forgotten that the question is still hanging in the air, with no good answer to satisfy it.

Chapter Seven

 

We only pass through one traffic light on the way
into downtown Willow Falls. I’ve lived in some small towns, but this one is the smallest and quaintest of them all. Old-fashioned streetlights line Main Street, and the
bump bump bump
of Uncle Roger’s tires tells me we’re driving on cobblestones. I spot a small library, a diner, music store, bookstore, toy store, a few clothing stores, and a movie theatre. Each one has a brightly colored awning hanging over the door, so they all kind of match. Uncle Roger’s is the only little red sports car on the road, though. I’m surprised I haven’t heard any complaints from the passengers in the backseat. That might be because they’re squished in so tightly the air is being sucked from their lungs.

“Here we are,” Uncle Roger says, pulling up next to the curb.

“Thanks for driving us,” I tell him.

“My pleasure. You sure you don’t need me to help deal with the insurance?”

From the cramped backseat Rory squeaks, “I’ve got this one, Mr. St. Claire.”

I hop out and push my seat forward so the others can exit. Rory untangles her arms and legs and climbs out first, followed
by Amanda, Leo, and David, who makes a loud
umph
sound as he pushes himself out.

“Okay. Call me if you need to be picked up.”

I watch as he pulls away and then I follow the others into the phone store. All the people working in the store turn to look. Their faces light up.

“Rory!” One of the women actually claps.

A guy wearing a blue suit and a manager’s badge hurries out from behind the counter. “Two months now, right? A personal best for Rory Swenson!” He clutches a small red notebook in one hand and a pen in the other. He must be at least in his thirties. Late thirties, even. Why would Rory have a crush on this guy?

Rory puts her hands on her hips. “What makes you think I’m here because I lost my phone?”

The manager’s smile fades. “Aren’t you?”

She sighs. “Yes.”

“Rory!” Amanda says, laughing. “Are you serious?”

Rory nods and slumps her shoulders. “I know, I’m pathetic.” But then she straightens up and points to me. “But I’m not
only
here for me. This is my new friend, Tara. She lost hers, too.”

I give a little wave.

The manager beams. “Any friend of my best customer is a friend of mine. Want to see the book?”

Quick as a flash, he spreads open the small notebook and flips to an early page. He drops his finger onto it and says, “Here she is! Under fifteen minutes to lose her first phone. It’s still a companywide record! Then a few weeks later she brought
in a waterlogged one, then a month after that was my personal favorite — her phone was run over by a bulldozer.”

Rory blushes. “They were about to plow down all the apple trees Amanda and Leo planted. And that cute little birdbath. It’s been up there since Willow Falls was founded.”

Amanda puts her arm around Rory’s shoulder. “Throwing your cell phone at that huge bulldozer was very brave.”

“Hey,” Rory says, jutting out her chin, “it worked, didn’t it?”

“That, and the grant from the city,” David says.

Rory kicks him in the shin.

Ten minutes later, Leo and Amanda have had a full conversation through their blackboards, David has played with every electronic gadget on display, and Rory and I have filled out the paperwork to get our new phones. The manager goes into the back for a minute, then comes back with our replacements. Mine looks exactly like my old one, which still looked brand-new since I almost never used it.

Rory takes one look at mine and her eyes grow wide. “Wow! That’s a beauty. You’re so lucky.”

I don’t want to let her know that I never use it, since that would make it obvious that I don’t have any friends. Maybe she’s already guessed that, though, since I haven’t said more than a few words to any of them. Still, all I tell her is that my mom is really overprotective and paranoid, so she insisted on the best possible phone.

“My parents are like that, too,” she says. “Overprotective, I mean. Or at least they used to be. They’re much better now. But I can still only get this lame one. It doesn’t even have a real keyboard for texting! Can you believe that?”

I shake my head in solidarity. Truly, though, I’ve only sent a handful of texts in my entire life, and most were to my parents telling them when I’d be home after school.

While she and I sign the little red notebook (which the employees enjoy just a bit too much, if you ask me), Amanda takes my new phone and programs all of their numbers into it. I’ve never had anyone’s number stored in my phone except my parents’. I’m honestly not sure why they’re being so nice to me. Maybe it’s for Emily’s sake, so she won’t be stuck with me all the time.

“See you in a few days, Rory!” the manager calls after us as we head out.

“No, he won’t,” David says as we head away from the store.

Rory sighs. “Yeah, he probably will.”

“Let’s take Tara to the community center,” Amanda suggests, pointing across the street at a large white building. “There’s always something fun going on there.”

Rory shakes her head. “My mom’s taking an aerobics class. It would be too embarrassing.”

So we start walking. We pass the music store, where Leo and Amanda wave at two guys setting up a display in the window. I do a double take when I realize they are identical twins. “That’s Larry and Lawrence,” Amanda says. “They let me practice my drums downstairs whenever my sister claims she can’t possibly do her homework with all the racket.”

“I never knew any girls who played the drums,” I say and then wish I could take it back. Seriously, I should not be allowed to talk to other humans.

“She’s really great,” Leo says. “You should hear her play.”

“Aw, shucks,” Amanda says, elbowing him playfully.

Okay, now I’m positive they’re a couple. I look ahead at David and Rory, who have stopped in front of another display window, this time at the Willow Falls Historical Society. They’re pointing at something in the window and laughing. It’s clear that they’re good friends, but I don’t get the same vibe as I do from Amanda and Leo.

“Why don’t we go in here?” Rory suggests when we catch up. “What better way to learn about Willow Falls than to see a two-hundred-year-old stuffed raccoon in a rocking chair?”

I look inside the big glass window. It’s pretty much what I would expect from a historical society. Cramped and dark, with a big wooden desk, some old-fashioned musical instruments, a few couches and chairs, and shelves of books and knickknacks.

“It’s really dusty in there,” Leo says, backing away from the window. “My allergies would act up.”

“And I heard it’s haunted,” Amanda adds, waving us forward. “Just keep walking and don’t look back.”

“Wow, some people really don’t like history,” David mutters as we follow them past the window.

“Seriously,” Rory agrees.

Halfway down the next block, I catch sight of a little side street that the others walk right past. It’s not even wide enough for a car to go down. I guess it’s more of an alley than a street, but I spot a tiny watch shop, and a few other stores whose signs I can’t read from this angle. “What’s down here?” I ask. The others stop and walk back to me.

“My grandfather took me to that one when I was a little kid,” David says, pointing to the watch store. He wrinkles his nose. “I remember it smelled like cigars and feet.”

Rory peers into the alley. “I’ve always just walked past this,” she murmurs. “Let’s see what else is down there.” Amanda and Leo exchange a quick glance, but they follow along.

Like Main Street, the alley road is made of cobblestone. But in this case, many of the stones are misshapen and cracked, and we have to watch our steps carefully so as not to trip. Both the watch store and the barbershop across from it are closed on Sundays. A shoe repair store, also closed, reveals itself past the barbershop.

“What’s this place?” Rory asks, stopping in front of the last store on the right. A thick layer of dust and grime covers the big window, but the letters at the top of the glass are still legible and a sign on the door declares they are open weekdays only. “ ‘Angelina’s Sweet Repeats and Collectibles,’ ” she reads aloud. As soon as the words are out of her mouth she backs away, nearly tripping on the edge of an upturned stone. “We should go back.”

“Why?” David asks. “Let’s see what’s inside.” Before Rory can protest, he uses his sleeve to wipe a large circle of dirt from the window and peers in. “Empty,” he declares with a shrug.

Only it
isn’t
empty. The area he cleared off is enough to expose shelves and tables full of various small objects — books, toys, comics, clocks, sporting goods, dishes, clothes, shoes, and even more that I can’t make out in the gloom of the darkened shop. “More like the
opposite
of empty,” I reply, turning away
from the window to smile at him. David’s kind of funny, which makes it easy to be around him. And I don’t usually find anyone easy to be around.

He smiles back, a little uncertainly, though. “Only if you call cobwebs and an overturned trash can the opposite of empty.”

My smile wobbles. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to respond now. How long do we each pretend to see something else? Darn my lack of social skills! A quick motion next to me catches my eye, and I turn in time to see Leo grab Amanda’s arm. Face pale, Leo opens his mouth to speak. But before he can utter a word, Amanda clamps her hand over it and shakes her head. Leo’s eyes widen. Clearly, he realized he had just been about to speak to her. I can’t imagine what the big deal is. They can just stop and start their strange game any time. He lets go of her arm and she pulls her hand away from his mouth. They look at the rest of us, then back at each other.

Leo picks up his board.
HER not HIM?
he writes, his hand shaking with each letter. He tries to shield the board from the rest of us, but since I’m right next to Amanda, I can see it. Then she writes back,
OFF BY A DAY?
then erases it with her forearm. She turns to Rory and, in a voice that she probably hopes sounds casual, asks, “Hey, Rory, so what do
you
see in the window?”

“I … I’m not sure,” Rory says, backing away another few feet. “Tables? And some shelves and stuff?”

“Very funny, Rory,” David says. “Is this because I don’t believe your bunny was intent on world domination?”

Rory looks pleadingly at Amanda, and then at me, then back at Amanda. At this close range I can see Amanda has gone as
pale as Leo. So pale that her freckles are almost gone. I must have missed something somewhere. Are we joking around, or aren’t we? Why does Rory look so scared, and Amanda and Leo so freaked out? What does “Her not Him” mean? Her who? And Him who? And doesn’t David know he’s dragging out the joke by insisting the store is empty? I think I’d like to go home now. I’ll settle for Emily’s room.

To my relief, Rory says, “Can we just go?” She spreads her arms wide and herds us down the street like she’s wrangling cattle. Amanda and Leo both take one last glance at the store window before allowing themselves to be ushered along.

Right before we reach the corner of Main Street, Amanda puts her hand on my arm. As before with Rory, my first instinct is to shake it off. Her grip is pretty tight, though, so it’s just as well that another part of me doesn’t.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her eyes wide with concern.

I’m not used to someone I just met looking so deeply into my eyes. I squirm a little and glance down at the cobblestones. “I … I think maybe I should call my uncle to pick me up.”

“I think you’re supposed to come with us to Apple Grove. I mean, I think you’d really like it.”

When I don’t answer, she adds, “Rory’s dad is probably already on his way to bring us.” Playing the drums must make her hands superstrong. If she doesn’t let go soon, I’m going to have five bruises in the shapes of fingers.

Rory catches up to us, and Amanda drops her hold on my arm.

“Let’s just go to Apple Grove now, okay?” Rory asks. Her brows are still a bit furrowed, but she looks less freaked out than before. “You’re coming, right, Tara?”

“Um, I guess I am.”

“Good!” Rory says, linking her arm with mine.

Rory = Hard to Say No To.

While we wait outside the Willow Falls Diner for Rory’s father, Amanda and Leo huddle together, scribbling furiously on their boards, erasing, and rewriting over and over.

“Um, have they always done stuff like that?” I ask Rory and David in a low voice.

“I don’t know,” David whispers, watching them out of the corner of his eye. “Rory was friends with them first, and then when she started babysitting for Emily across the street, we just all started hanging out and became really good friends. They’ve done some strange stuff since I’ve known them, but this whole blackboard thing has gone on since last summer.”

“I’m sure they have their reasons,” Rory says. Her eyes dart anxiously down the street toward the alley.

David shrugs. “I just wish they would tell us what it is.”

“Maybe they
can’t
tell us,” Rory says.

It’s one thing not to tell a stranger like me, but what could keep them from telling their closest friends?

As though they could hear my thoughts, Leo and Amanda abruptly stop writing and turn to look at me. I quickly bend down to tie my sneaker. Only my sneakers are slip-ons, so I pretend I have an itch on my ankle instead.

Thankfully Rory’s dad pulls up to the curb before I scratch my skin raw. As she leads us to the car she says, “I should warn you, my dad’s a little, well,
different.”

“My dad’s pretty different, too,” I tell her. “He writes about zombies for a living and is, like, seven feet tall.”

David whispers, “But does he have a green stripe in his hair?”

“Last year it was blue,” Amanda adds from behind.

I can see the stripe as soon as Rory opens the passenger door. It’s hard to miss since the rest of his hair is blond. It’s a normal-sized car (unlike Uncle Roger’s), but it’s still a tight fit in the back. I hope I remembered deodorant this morning! As we pull away, Rory gestures to the backseat and says, “Dad, this is Tara St. Claire. We met her at the barbeque today.”