Camouflage by Gloria Miklowitz Page B

he
had
been listening! Well, he’d rub it in a bit then. “Yeah. I got to shoot a Remington .22 and Dad’s teaching me all about guns.”
    â€œThat’s great,” Brian said. “When you get back maybe we can go to a firing range. Practice together.”
    â€œReally?”
    Sure.
    â€œCool!”
    â€œAnd listen, Kyle. If you want an ear, for any reason at all, I’m here.”
    He grimaced at the phone. Why would he need Brian when he had his dad? “Thanks,” he said, “and congratulations. I hope you and Mom will be very happy.”

    He washed his breakfast dishes, gazing out the window toward the small woods and stream out back.
What a place to live
, he thought. No smog. No smell of car exhaust. No noise of traffic passing. Just a pretty view, sweet-smelling air, and birds peeping in the tree near the picnic table. He wiped his hands and thought of Mom and Brian. Things would be very different when he went home. Brian would always be there, between him and his mother. Maybe he should think more about staying here with Dad. Last night showed him he could have a lot of friends.
    Prince began barking. He put down the dish towel and went outside. “Quiet, Prince!” he ordered, grabbing the dog’s collar. He looked down the road to see who was coming. A girl—on a bike.
Verity?
he thought with a stir of excitement. No.
Marta!
The girl from last night, the one Hiram said all the guys had had a “go at.” He began to sweat.
    â€œPhew!” Marta slid to a stop, straddled her bike, wiped her forehead with a white bandanna, and grinned. “You sure live far out!”
    In daylight she looked older than she had last night. Sixteen, maybe, and prettier than he remembered. She had green eyes and long brown hair that clung to her damp face. She wore white cutoffs and a halter top that showed a lot of smooth tanned skin. “How’d you know where I live?” he asked, realizing immediately what a dumb question it was.
    â€œ
Everyone
knows where Ed Klinger lives,” she said. “Your dad is pretty famous around here.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œI figured—since you couldn’t take your eyes off me last night—I’d come see if you’re anything like your pa.” She smiled coyly. “Aren’t you going to invite me in? Give a girl a cold drink or something?” She dropped her bike and came toward him.
    Flustered, he stepped back, then led the way inside. Wasn’t it the other way around, that she’d eyed
him
all night? Man, she was brazen. He guessed why she’d come and the thought sent shudders through his body. What should he do? Would she make the moves?
    â€œWow!” she exclaimed, looking around the big main room. “I knew your dad was a great shot, but wow, just look at this place!” She gazed in awe at the animal trophies and guns, fanning herself with her bandanna.
    â€œYeah,” Kyle said, seeing the room again as he had the first day. “Dad’s gonna take me out hunting soon.” He turned to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “What’ll you have? Water, cola, or beer?”
    â€œBeer.” She came up behind him and rested her cheek against his back, arms encircling his waist. “Mmmm. Nice.”
    Kyle swung around, a beer can in one hand and a cola in the other. He cleared his throat. “Let’s go outside.”
    â€œLet’s not. It’s cooler inside.” She dropped onto the leather couch, patting the seat beside her.
    Kyle felt a heat switch go on in his body. He handed the beer to Marta and opened the cola for himself. Then he sat down. “So, what’s this about my dad being famous?” His voice cracked.
    Marta swung her bare legs over his, cocked her head in a saucy invitation, and said, “You look so like your dad. Are you like him?”
    Kyle nearly choked on his cola. “What do you mean?” He stared