The Other Boy (7 page)

Forgetting about the mess of broken glass, Maddy tore up the stairs to her room and slammed the door. Her heart pounded under her ribs, and her breath whistled through her nose with anger. With fists clenched, Maddy threw herself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, where a small spider was peacefully spinning a web in one corner. Everything was quiet and then …
cheep, cheep,
cheep!

“Shut up!” Maddy shouted, and bolted from the bed.

Furiously, she yanked open the porch doors. The cheeping stopped. Silence again. She stood still for a second and then turned and slowly went back into the room.

She laid down and reached for her BlackBerry to call Kirsten.
CHEEP, CHEEP! CHEEP, CHEEP!
It was never-ending. Maddy threw the phone on the bedside table and rolled over, pulling a pillow over her head.

Forget it. Why was everything going wrong? She had never felt so out of place. No wonder David liked Rain better. At least she wasn’t a spoiled suburban brat.

Maddy woke up at six and lay in bed for fifteen minutes, convincing herself that she was going back to sleep. The morning had dawned clear and cool, the sun burning the dew off of the sagebrush as it climbed higher in the sky. Her porch cricket had long since quieted down—or gone to do whatever crickets do during the day—and the room was as peaceful and silent as a church. The pale sunlight painted patterns on the sheets, and the fresh breeze blew across her cheeks from the open porch doors.

She dreaded having to see David again. It was going to be humiliating. But there wasn’t any way around it. It wasn’t like she had a whole lot of other options or a choice about whom she’d be spending her days with.

Maddy got up, leaving the sheets in a wad at the end of the bed, and pulled on a pair of Sevens and her favorite American Apparel scoop-neck tee. She braided her hair, letting the end hang over her shoulder before tiptoeing down the stairs to the silent early-morning kitchen.

The room had a tidy, expectant feeling. Debbie’s collection of pottery vases on the windowsill stood in the sun like a still life. Maddy dumped coffee into the coffeemaker and leaned her elbows on the counter, listening to the burbling and watching dark brown droplets stream into the glittering glass carafe. It felt good to be up. She realized that she was humming under her breath.

When the coffee was ready, Maddy poured it into a thick blue ceramic mug and wrapped a roll from last night in a napkin. She pushed through the screen door and paused a moment on the porch, sipping her coffee and looking at the mist shrouding the grapevines before making her away across the grass to a path through the fields. The sandy soil felt soft under her feet, and the grape leaves brushed her bare arms, leaving little streaks of wet on her smooth, tanned skin. In front of her, birds took flight at her approach, calling into the cool morning air above the vines before wheeling back around to perch on the trellises.

Maddy reached the edge of the field and approached the shed in the clearing. But instead of going in, she wandered over to the stream and climbed onto a rock, still cool from the night. She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her coffee mug against her leg.

Taking a giant bite of her roll, she stared idly at the tangled field in front of her and the mountains beyond, draped in the last strands of the morning fog. The warming sun baked the top of her head.

“Hi,” said a voice behind her. “You’re up early.”

Maddy started, nearly falling off her rock into the stream. She turned around, her mouth still full of bread.

David’s curly hair looked like he had combed it with a fork, and he was wearing baggy khaki shorts and one of his apparently endless supply of holey T-shirts. He held a foil-wrapped plate in his hand.

“Hello,” Maddy said, trying not to spray crumbs. She pointedly looked away and swallowed.

“I made you some cookies.”

What?
She whipped her head around, trying not to betray her surprise.

“Chocolate-chip apricot. Your mom said you were a chocolate girl.”

She couldn’t help it. “You talked to my
mom
?”

“Well, I had to find out what you like.” He widened his eyes innocently and took the foil off the plate. Big, beautiful cookies studded with dark chunks of chocolate and bits of orange apricot were arranged in a pile.

Maddy sat uncertainly for a second. Of course she was still mad, but man, those cookies looked good.

Without her mind’s consent, her hand reached out and took one. She bit into it.

Ohmygod
—moist, fantastically chewy, and not too sweet. The melted chocolate chips pulled apart in goopy strands. The apricot bits added perfectly tart little zings.

She finished it in about three bites and looked up. David was watching her closely.

“Well?” he asked, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth, waiting for her approval. Maddy forced her face into a frown.
This is the guy who was laughing at you, remember?

“Um, good,” she offered uncertainly. This wasn’t how she’d pictured her morning starting.

David smiled widely. “Cool.” He pushed the plate into her hands and strode over to the shed. The big doors rumbled as he shoved them open.

Just ignore him,
she thought as she carefully climbed down from the rock, brushing the last roll crumbs from her lap and placing the empty coffee mug and the plate of cookies on the ground. She joined him in the doorway. The shed looked about a hundred times better.
He
cleaned while I was getting my seaweed wrap,
Maddy thought semi-guiltily. But it still didn’t make up for his rudeness last night, even if he
had
made her cookies.

He must have found soap somewhere, because the floors, walls, and windows all gleamed. The place had the feel of a blank canvas. She strolled around the edges of the room, running her fingers over the smooth plaster walls and gazing through the rafters at the soaring peaked roof above. She took a deep breath, inhaling the mixture of wildflowers, soap, and old wood that perme-ated the air.

“Hey, listen.” David walked over slowly and stood in front of her.

She watched him warily. “What?”

“Those cookies?” He paused and stuck his hands in his front pockets.

“Yeah?”

He took a deep breath. “Well, they’re sort of a bribe.”

“What are you talking about?” She narrowed her eyes.

“I’m trying to bribe you to forgive me for last night.”

His voice was steady and calm, but his eyes looked anxious as he waited for her reaction. “I don’t know what was wrong with me. I acted like a total jerk.”

Maddy’s face grew warm, but standing in the clear morning light, with David’s sincere eyes looking straight into hers, it was hard to summon up the righteous anger that had coursed through her the night before. David dropped his chin, pouted his mouth, and looked at her with pleading, puppy-dog eyes. He looked so ridiculous and adorable that Maddy couldn’t help cracking a smile.

“Whatever. Let’s just forget it.” She turned away, but it was too late.

“I saw that!” he said. “Come here.” Before she could react, he had pulled her against his chest in a quick hug.

She jumped and pulled back. “Um—like I said, just forget it. It’s no big deal,” Maddy mumbled, completely thrown off balance by the sensation of his strong, wiry arms wrapped around her. She brushed uselessly at her hair. Her hands felt like big, awkward paws. She crossed and uncrossed her arms on her chest.
Get a grip!
she instructed herself.
You’re acting like a sixth grader
.

“So!” she said, backing up and trying for a breezy tone. “What’s the plan for today?” She perched on a barrel and crossed her legs.

David shrugged and sat down on a barrel opposite her. He tilted back, balancing it on its edge. “Honestly?

I have no idea. I’ve only seen a couple tasting rooms before. What are they supposed to look like?”

“You think
I
know? I saw my first grapevine two days ago. It’s a room where people drink wine, right? So, like, tables, chairs, pictures on the walls …”

David nodded in agreement. “Maybe something to hold the wine bottles, like a rack or some shelves… . Hey, wait! I have an awesome idea!” He jumped up. “There are tons of vineyards around here. We should go check some of them out—like a scouting trip. You know, see what the competition is doing with their tasting rooms.”

Maddy considered this. It
was
kind of a good idea.

She had no idea how to begin, and anyway, it would be better than staying inside all day. She shrugged and rose from her barrel. “Okay. At least we’ll get some ideas.”

She headed toward the door. “The truck was gone this morning. I can get the keys to the Lexus though if—

what?”

David’s face lit up. “I have a better idea.”

✦ ✦ ✦

“You are insane!” Maddy shrieked as she pelted down the hill, David and his bicycle rapidly receding in front of her. The wind whipped her hair back from her face.

She gripped her handlebars tightly and lifted her feet from the pedals, letting them spin madly on their own as the wheels hummed faster and faster. The black asphalt of the road seemed to rise up in front of her. “I’m going to diiieeee!” she yelled into the wind.

In front of her, she could see David reach the bottom of the hill and stop, resting one foot on the ground as he turned to watch her. “Ohmygod!” she panted, coasting up next to him. “That was so amazing!” She couldn’t keep her face from splitting into a huge grin.

“Bikes are the absolute best way to get around Napa,” he said. “My buddies and I once rode from San Francisco all the way up here—that’ll be our next trip.”

Maddy leaned over the handlebars and tried to catch her breath. “Okay, sure. Just as soon as my heart attack’s over.”

David snorted laughter and their eyes met. Silence filled the moment, and then Maddy tore her gaze away.

She could feel herself blushing a little.

“Look!” She pointed to a sign across the street. “Isn’t that the one we were going to look at?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve always wanted to see this vineyard.

It’s supposed to be really fancy.”

After pedaling up a long, winding driveway, bordered on both sides by manicured lawns, they left their bikes next to a huge wrought-iron arch and followed the signs to the tasting room. It was in a massive stone building that resembled a medieval castle.

“This is where the knights of California lived in the Middle Ages,” David stage-whispered as they entered.

Maddy stifled a giggle and pushed open the tasting room door. A few sunburned tourists in shorts looked around as they entered but after a cursory glance quickly buried their noses in their glasses of wine.

“What do you think?” Maddy asked David in a low voice. He swept the room with his gaze, taking in the high, dark wood bar that stood at one end, the brass railing and fixtures, the stained-glass windows, and the thick, dark red rugs that covered the stone floor. He grimaced.

“I feel like I should be asking forgiveness for something,” he muttered back.

She nodded. “It does feel like a church—not like California at all.”

“Yeah, it actually makes me want to fall asleep, not buy wine.” He pointed to a huge leather couch. “That’s my nap spot right there.”

“All right, let’s go,” Maddy said, pushing open the door again. “I think they’d kick us out if you curled up on their couch.”

Back in the bright sunshine, they mounted their bikes again. “Okay, the next one’s about two miles up the road,” David said, standing up on the pedals. He glanced at Maddy, who was fiddling with her gear lever.

“You think you can make it, little girl?”

Maddy looked up sharply, her eyes flashing with momentary anger. Then she saw his laughing face and grinned. “No, can you cawwy me, big, strong man?” she asked in a little-girl whine. Without waiting for a response, she leaned low over the handlebars and pushed off, pedaling as fast as she could. She didn’t look back for the first mile, expecting at any moment to hear the hum of David’s bike approaching behind her. But she didn’t, and when she stopped for a breather after a mile and a half, she saw that he was still a couple hundred yards back, pedaling hard. He rode up next to her, panting.

“You know,” he said, wiping his damp face with the bottom of his T-shirt and briefly revealing a flat, chiseled stomach, “I wish you wouldn’t hold me back like this.

It’s really going to be a problem.”

Maddy tried to ignore his abs and concentrated on redoing her ponytail. “Sorry,” she replied airily. “I’ll try to speed up next time.”

They rode slowly, side by side for the last half mile.

The wind was still and the road was deserted. A lone black-and-white cow stared at them balefully from behind a rail fence.

A trickle of sweat coursed down the side of Maddy’s face. “Whew!” she breathed when they finally reached the hand-drawn sign of their next vineyard. She eyed the white squeeze bottle strapped to the crossbar of David’s bike. “Can I have some of that?”

“Sure.” He pulled the bottle from its holder and handed it to her. She tilted her head back and squirted a long stream of water into her open mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see David watching her. She took quick aim and squeezed the bottle hard, catching him right in the face.

“Hey!” he sputtered, laughing a little and wiping his face with his forearm. “What was that for?”

Maddy smiled with satisfaction. “For calling me a snob. Now we’re even.” She leaned over and stuck the water bottle back on his bike. “Shall we?”

The tasting room was just inside the vineyard entrance. “This reminds me of a Marriott,” Maddy murmured as they stared inside. The room was tiled in beige and white, with a light wood bar and some long, modern tables. The walls were partially glass, which flooded the space with light, but it hardly felt cozy.

“Actually,” David said, “the lobby of my grandma’s retirement home kind of looks like this.” His voice echoed against the high ceiling. The redheaded woman behind the bar shot them a dirty look.

“Look,” Maddy whispered, “we’ve made a friend already.” The redhead was polishing wineglasses while glaring at them.