"Don't be so difficult, Robert!" Brianna chided, smoothing down her spotless white shorts. Only Brianna would wear white shorts to go fishing and somehow manage to keep them white.
"Difficult? I'm not difficult! Am I?" He threw up his hands. "Jared, am I?"
But Jared Scott was staring blankly at nothing, his face calm, his expression detached, as if he had removed himself entirely from everything that was happening around him and gone somewhere else. He was having another episode, Nest realized–his third that afternoon. The medicine he was taking didn't seem to be helping a whole lot. At least his epilepsy never did much more than it was doing now. It just took him away for a while and then brought him back again, snipping out small spaces in his life, like panels cut from a comic book.
"Well, anyway, I don't think I'm difficult." Robert turned back to Brianna. "I can't help it if I'm interested in learning about stuff. What am I supposed to do–stop reading?"
Brianna sighed impatiently. "You could at least stop being so dramatic!"
"Oh, now I'm too dramatic, am I? Gee, first I'm too difficult and then I'm too dramatic! How ever will I get on with my life?"
"We all ponder that dilemma on a daily basis," Cass observed archly.
"You spend too much time in front of your computer!" Bri–anna snapped.
"Well, you spend too much time in front of your mirror!" Robert snapped right back.
It was no secret that Brianna devoted an inordinate amount of time to looking good, in large part as the result of having a mother who was a hairdresser and who firmly believed that makeup and clothes made the difference in a young girl's lot in life. From the tune her daughter was old enough to pay attention, Brianna's mother had instilled in her the need to "look the part," as she was fond of putting it, training her to style her hair and do her makeup and providing her with an extensive wardrobe of matching outfits that Brianna was required to wear whatever the occasion–even on an outing that centered around fishing. Lately Brianna had begun to chafe a bit under the constraints of her mother's rigid expectations, but Mom still held the parental reins with a firm grip and full–blown rebellion was a year or so away.
The mirror crack brought an angry flush to Brianna Brown's face, and she glared hotly at Robert.
Cass Minter was quick to intervene. "You both spend too much tune in front of lighted screens, Robert" — she gave Nest another wink — "but in Brianna's case the results are more obviously successful."
Nest laughed softly in spite of herself. She envied Brianna's smooth curves, her flawless skin, and her soft, feminine look. She was beautiful in a way that Nest never would be. Her tiny, grade–school girl's body was developing curves on schedule while Nest's simply refused to budge. Boys looked at Brianna and were made hungry and awestruck. When they looked at Nest, they were left indifferent.
Robert started to say something and belched, and everyone laughed. Jared Scott cleared his throat, and his eyes refocused
on his friends. "Are we going swimming tomorrow?" he asked, as if nothing had happened.
They walked through the center of the park, keeping to the shade of the big oaks that ran along the bluff up from the ball fields bordering Nest's backyard, then cut down toward Cass Minter's rambling two–story. A game was in progress on the fourth field, the one farthest into the park and closest to the toboggan run. They sauntered toward it, caught up in their conversation, which had turned now to the merits of learning a foreign language, and they were almost to the backstop when Nest realized belatedly that one of the players lounging on the benches, waiting his turn at bat, was Danny Abbott. She tried to veer away from him, pushing at Cass to get her to move back toward the roadway, but it was too late. He had already seen her and was on his feet.
"Hey, Nest!" he called out boldly. "Wait up!"
She slowed reluctantly as he started over, already angry with herself for letting this happen. "Oh, great!" Robert muttered under his breath. A scowl twisted his narrow lips.
"Go on," she told Cass, glancing at her shoes. "I'll be along in a minute."
Cass kept moving as if that had been her plan all along, and the other three dutifully followed. All of them drifted on for about twenty feet and stopped. Nest held her ground as Danny Abbott approached. He was big, strong, and good–looking, and for some reason he had a thing for her. A high–school junior in the fall, he was two years older than she was and convinced he was the coolest thing in jeans. A few months ago, at a Y dance, flattered by his interest, she had made the mistake of letting him kiss her. The kiss was all she wanted, and after she experienced it, she decided she wasn't that interested in Danny Abbott after all. But Danny couldn't let it go. He began to talk about her to his friends, and some of the stories got back to her. Danny was saying he had gotten a lot further with her than he had. Worse, he was saying she was anxious for more. She stopped having anything to do with him, but this just seemed to fuel his interest.
He strolled up to her with a confident smile, the big jock coming on to the impressionable little groupie. She felt her anger build. "So what's happening?" he asked, his voice slow and languid. "Catch anything?"
She shook her head. "Not much. What do you want?"
"Hey, don't be so prickly." He brushed at his dark hair and looked off into the distance, like he was seeing into the future and taking its measure. "I was just wondering why I hadn't seen you around."
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, forcing herself to look at him, refusing to be intimidated. "You know why, Danny."
He pursed his lips and nodded, as if thinking it through. "Okay, I made a mistake. I said some stuff I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. Can we drop it now? I like you, Nest. I don't want you pissed off at me. Hey, why don't you stick around while I finish this game, and then we'll go out for a burger."
"I'm with my friends," she said.
"So? I'm with mine, too. They can go their way and we can go ours, right?"
He gave her his most dazzling smile, and it made her want to say yes in spite of herself. Stupid, stupid. She shook her head. "No, I've got to get home."
He nodded solemnly. "Okay. Maybe tomorrow night. You know what? There's a dance here at the park Sunday. The Jaycees are putting it on. Want to go with me?"
She shook her head a second time. "I don't think so."
"Why not?" A hint of irritation crept into his voice.
She bit her lip. "I'll probably come with my friends."
He gave a disgusted sigh. "You spend a lot of time with your friends, don't you?"
She didn't say anything.
He glanced past her and shook his head. "Why do you hang out with them, anyway? I don't get it." He was looking right at her now, facing her down. "It seems to me you're wasting your time."
Her lips tightened, but she still didn't say anything.
"I don't mean to be picking on them or anything, but just think about it. They're weird, Nest, in case you hadn't noticed.
Barbie Doll, Big Bertha, Joe Space Cadet, and Bobby the Mouth. Weird, Nest. What are you doing with them?"
"Danny," she said quietly.
"Hey, I'm just trying to make a point. You've got a lot more going for you than they do, that's all I'm saying. You're one of the best runners in the state, and you're not even in high school! You're practically famous! Besides, you're a cool chick. You're nothing like them. I really don't get it."
She nodded slowly. "I know you don't. Maybe that's the point."
He sighed. "Okay, whatever. Anyway, why don't you stick around."
"Hey, Danny, you're up!" someone called.
"Yeah, in a minute!" he shouted back. He put his hands on her shoulders, resting them there casually. "C'mon, Nest. Tell me you'll stay until I finish my at bat."