Peaches by Jodi Lynn Anderson Page B

into one of Enrico’s friends.
    “Sorry,” she said, looking at him, then meeting eyes with Enrico. “Um.” She looked over her shoulder. “Nice car.”
    “Oh.” Enrico laughed under his breath. He looked from her to Leeda, and Birdie waited for him to take Leeda in the way guys did, like she was something the heavens had just spat out like a miracle. But his eyes drifted back to Birdie’s immediately. “Thanks, Birdie. It is…not that nice. But…uh.” He tapped his head, looking embarrassed. “Cheap. My English.” He shrugged.
    Birdie’s lips and fingers and toes tingled. She was pleased and horrified that Enrico even remembered her name, though being the boss’s daughter, she was hard to miss.
    “How much did you pay for it?” Murphy McGowen emergedfrom the crowd, sidling up beside Birdie and sizing up the car with her sharp green eyes.
    “Seven hundred fifty.” Enrico smiled.
    “Way too much,” Murphy said.
    Enrico’s smile dropped slightly; now he was unsure. “Really?”
    Murphy ducked into the driver’s side, looked at the dash, and ducked out again. “It’s got over 200,000 miles on it. I wouldn’t have paid over three. And by the sound of it it’s not going to last you very long.”
    Enrico stared at her earnestly and thoughtfully. He clearly hadn’t followed all that Murphy had said, but he seemed to have gotten the gist. Instead of acting defensive, though, he nodded good-naturedly, taking the information in. Then he looked at Birdie.
    “You think I have bought a piece of lemon?”
    “No, I…I think it’s great.” Birdie shot a look at Murphy. Despite how mean she’d been to Birdie yesterday in the dorm, Birdie disliked her much more at this moment.
    Murphy gave her a “what did I do?” look back and then rolled her eyes to show that if she had done something, she really didn’t care. Then she looked at Enrico, then back at Birdie, then at Enrico, and something in her green eyes clicked.
    Enrico gazed at his car, then nodded at Murphy. “I pay too much. You are right.”
    “Why don’t you two go for a ride?” Murphy suggested, looking from Enrico to Birdie and back.
    Enrico shrugged, swiveling his hips toward Birdie and pulling his hands out of his pockets. “You want to go?”
    “Um—well,” Birdie stammered. Immediately the picture ofher and Enrico riding down Orchard Drive together played like a movie in her head, with Birdie leaning against the window in the breeze and Enrico laying a hand gently on her leg. It sent shock waves up her actual, real leg. Birdie felt her body go ramrod straight.
    “Can’t. I’ve gotta get back to the house. Work…”
    “Oh.” Enrico frowned.
    Birdie gave him a hard, fake smile and turned back toward the house, walking at a clip. Behind her the car engine coughed to life again. Once it had pulled away, no doubt to be parked behind the dorms, she turned to watch the workers trailing back inside. Only Murphy McGowen stood with her hands on her hips and stared after her.
    Once Birdie got inside the house, the phone rang. She could see on the caller ID that it was her mom, calling for the fifth time that day. Birdie chose to screen the call.

Chapter Six
    O ver the next couple of days Murphy steered clear of as much work as possible.
    Each morning she listened to the other workers rise at dawn and hid her head under her pillow, waiting for them to go away so she could fall back asleep, trying her best to ignore the blue jay that started chirping as soon as everybody else went out. At night she was too exhausted by the little work she did do to break curfew, which was at ten. She wondered if the fresh air had too much oxygen in it.
    Between the time work ended and lights-out, Murphy was free to do what she liked. But unlike the others, she wasn’t allowed to do it outside of the circle delineated by the dorms, the supply barn, and the house. She walked this circle endlessly like a caged tiger until she knew every inch of grass on the