The Stillburrow Crush (5 page)

He was tall and skinny as all get out, with a thirty-eight inch inseam to his Wrangler jeans. He had the same pale blond hair I did. But his neck was longer and his Adam's apple jutted out noticeably. I suppose if I wasn't his sister and didn't know he was an idiot, I might say he was attractive.

Lots of girls said he looked like Leonardo DiCaprio. I thought that was stretching it. But sometimes when he wasn't bugging me, he didn't look too bad.

When he saw me he didn't stand, he just transferred the lollypop from one side of his cheek to the other.

"Hey, brat."

Abby's head spun around and her face went beet red, as if she'd been caught in the back seat of a car with him over at the camping ground—which was the major make-out spot for all Stillburrow teenagers.

"Hi, Carrie," she said.

42

The Stillburrow Crush

by Linda Kage

If I kept a notebook of firsts, I'd have to scribble down her

"Hi, Carrie,
"
as the first time Abby Eggrow ever voluntarily spoke to me.

"Ready for the big test in history tomorrow?" she asked.

Another first. Abby smiling and asking me a question, instead of treating me like I was invisible. I wondered if the apocalypse had begun.

For the sake of my brother, I pushed all rude thoughts out of my brain and nodded politely to her. I told her, in my most respectful tone, that I wasn't ready for the test at all. History with Mr. Decker was not my strong point. Neither was trigonometry for that matter. But Abby always seemed to know what questions would be on all the history tests. So on a crazy whim, I invited her to come over after supper and maybe help me study.

I never asked people to my house. And Abby Eggrow wouldn't have been my first choice. But asking her over would be like inviting Marty as well. And a little discomfort at having a guest would surely be overridden by my duty to my parents in coercing Marty to come and visit them.

Or maybe I just liked to stir the pot.

"Oh...uh, sorry, but I can't," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm going to the movies in Paulbrook tonight. But I've heard Mr. Decker asks a lot of questions about Appomattox Court House."

I had no idea what the Appomattox Court House was and made a mental note to find out.

Abby ran me through the checkout line and I paid with the bill Mom had given me. Then Mrs. Bates, by the cleaning 43

The Stillburrow Crush

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supplies, called for help. As Abby glided off to assist the sheriff's wife, I turned to Marty and watched him double bag the ice cream.

"Got a letter for you," I said. He stopped bagging and glanced up. "From Mom," I added and slid the envelope down the conveyer belt to him. His shoulders deflated a little but he grabbed it up and pulled out the letter as well as a twenty-dollar bill. He jammed the money into his pocket with one hand and unfolded the note with his other.

His eyebrows instantly rose. "Walking in the park with Luke Carter, huh?"

I clenched my teeth and folded my arms over my chest, refusing to show any embarrassment or shock. Mom hadn't said anything to me last night. She hadn't even let on that she'd known at all.

Dad must've told her.

I tried to ignore the heat rising to my face and shrugged with one lazy shoulder. "I wrote an article about Homecoming for the paper, featuring the coach and quarterback." Then I got angry with myself, wondering why I was trying to explain it to Marty.

"Uh-huh. I read it." He snorted the name
Lucas
under his breath and went back to reading Mom's note. "And helping out the old man in the shop too? You've been a busy girl, brat."

"I wouldn't have to help him if you'd come home," I said between my teeth, since I couldn't seem to get them unclenched.

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He glanced up once with a quick scowl, then back down and finished the letter. "And tell Mom I can't make it for supper." He shot a quick glance toward Abby. When he looked back at me, he was stuffing the letter into his back pocket. He wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm going to the movies tonight."

My arms unfolded and my hands ground into my hips.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" He frowned and I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "She's only eighteen."

"Only?" He laughed and tugged on my hair. "That's over a year older than you."

"And five years too young for you!"

He pulled back. "So what? Dad's seven years older than Mom."

My mouth fell open. "It's that serious, then? You're thinking marriage?"

"No!" He backed away from the counter and ripped the lollypop out of his mouth. "It's just a date. Nothing serious."

"Then why're you fooling around with her in the first place?" I said, lowering my voice even more. "She's leaving in a year to get a
real
life. What do you have to offer her, Marty? A stock boy's salary? It looks pretty worthless to me. I mean, the whole relationship is going nowhere right from the beginning."

He scoffed and pointed the lollypop at my head. "Well, aren't you the pot calling the kettle black? Or have you already forgotten about your little stroll with Luke Carter?"

My jaw felt tight. I took a second to gather my thoughts.

OK, I was just trying to cool my temper because I wanted to hit him—bad. If he hadn't mentioned Luke, I might've been 45

The Stillburrow Crush

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able to sniff and walk off. But since I was still sore about Mr.

Carter, I had to strike back. When I felt clear I spoke, my voice cool.

"Excuse me," I said, "but I am not, nor will I ever, go to the movies with Luke Carter. I'm not stupid like you. The only reason he came to see me yesterday was to yell at me for putting his full name in the paper."

Marty wasn't buying it, though. "He had to hold your hand for that?" he taunted.

If there were ever a moment I could've killed my parents, that would've been it. I felt my face flame red. Dad must've watched the entire episode of Luke and me in the park. But would he have mentioned the hand-holding part to Mom? And would Mom have put it in her letter to Marty? I seriously doubted it, so I took my chances and called his bluff.

"He did not," I said with force. "Mom didn't put that in your letter. You made it up."

I knew he'd made it up when he leaned over the counter and snickered. "I bet you wanted him to, though."

"No, not at all," I announced, primly raising my chin a notch as if to say I considered myself too good for the likes of Luke Carter.
"I'm
too smart to fall for a pretty face." I glanced over to where Abby was still chatting with Mrs. Bates. "Tell me, Marty. Is she as enlightening to talk to as she is to stare at? Or do you not bother with conversation?"

"Shut up," he said, and glanced away.

"Does her dad know?" I watched his face go noticeably paler. "I'm sure Principal Eggrow would just love the idea of 46

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by Linda Kage

his daughter dating the boy who tried to break the record for most detentions."

"Carrie." His voice was low, hard and spoken through unmoving lips. He turned to stare evil beams at me. "It's none of your business. Back off."

Behind us, the front door of the store opened. The bell jingled above it but Marty and I continued to have our stand off. I was sure my expression matched the glaring-eyes, pointed-chin, flaring-nostrils look Marty had.

"You didn't tell her you're the one who dubbed her dear father Mr. Egghead, did you?" I said.

"No. But I told her that last year you taped up pictures of her cousin Rick on the walls of your bedroom."

"Arg! You're such a jerk." I dug my index finger into his chest. He pushed it away with the back his hand. "Go ahead and make a fool of yourself over Abby. I really don't care what you do with her. But why don't you just come home once in a while?"

He rolled his eyes. "Are we back to that again?"

"Well, yeah. That's what I'm doing here in the first place."

Marty sighed and stared at the ceiling for a moment.

"Come on, now," he said, and rubbed his eyes as if he were tired. "I'm too old to be living at home. It was time."

I laughed at him with a kind of snort. "I'm not talking about moving back in, bonehead. Heck, I'm glad you're gone and not hogging the bathroom every morning. I'm talking about visits, calls, e-mails, or a message to let Mom and Dad know you're still alive. Sometimes Mom asks me if I heard the phone ring in the other room when the house is perfectly 47

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by Linda Kage

quiet. Now tell me, Marty. Why isn't it ringing? How hard can it be to dial seven little digits? What's so difficult about dropping by for five minutes? It's only four blocks away."

"I have a phone too," he said, "and I never hear it ring."

"Because they think you want to be left alone." I felt like kicking as well as hitting him at this point, just to pound some sense into his void of a head. "Because they think they're respecting your privacy. Quit acting so selfish and stubborn.

Make the first move. And quit being such a moron." I slapped a hand over my mouth. My voice had raised a few decibels too high.

I glanced around. Abby and Mrs. Bates had stopped talking and were staring down the aisle at us.

Marty had murder in his eyes as he glared at me. His hands shook as he fisted them at his sides. "Fine," he said.

"I'll call her sometime."

I wanted to scream at him. Throw my fists. He looked mad, not sorry or remorseful. Where was the regret? How could he not care? Our parents weren't that terrible. They were strict and old fashioned, yes, but they were fair, and never once had they hidden their love and support for us.

They had their faults but what parent didn't? I couldn't understand why he was being so cruel. I used to know him so well, but not anymore.

"Fine," I repeated, and spun away fully intending to stride off with my head held high. But there stood Luke Carter. He was barely inside the store, huddled next to the closed front door, looking awkward and uncomfortable at walking in during the middle of our "family scene."

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The Stillburrow Crush

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My heart did a little skip. He was wearing his church clothes: a pale gray, long-sleeved, button-up shirt with a blue tie that had maroon diamonds running in diagonal lines down the front. His shirt was tucked into darker gray, almost charcoal, pleated pants. I could tell he'd shaved since the day before because his jaw was smooth and naked. He looked sleek and expensive and flawless.

I wanted to run and attack him too. I wanted to beat on his chest and demand, "Why'd you hurt me yesterday? Why'd you have to ask me for that stupid walk?"

But then he peered into my eyes, holding his face and his body still. And those eyes of his—those all-too-expressive eyes that crinkled softly—held sadness and compassion. I blinked away a sudden stinging, lowered my head, and began to retreat.

"You forgot your groceries," Marty called.

I paused, keeping my back to him and said, "Why don't you bring them home. That way,
you
can tell Mom yourself, you're not coming for supper."

Then I walked toward the exit. Luke was still there, half blocking my escape. I mumbled an "Excuse me" and he hurried aside—even opened the door for me.

Above us, the bell rang. The sound echoed through my heartbeat. I brushed against Luke's crisp gray sleeve and felt the crinkle of fabric on my elbow. The contact rustled up his smell of clean soap and Right Guard aftershave, a brand that Dad often used. It was familiar, yet disturbingly new and fresh.

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The Stillburrow Crush

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I inhaled as much as I could before I was outside and the door closed between us. His smell was washed away, replaced by the chilly autumn and the aroma of dead leaves burning in front yards.

I walked home empty-handed, feeling as lonely as I ever had. I wanted to strangle my brother, but I also wanted to know why I had to feel so defenseless and exposed toward Luke. I wanted to know why he came to visit me at the lot, why he wanted to walk with me in the park, but didn't want to be seen with me. I wasn't that bad of a person. I was by no means popular in school, but I wasn't a total dork.

If I could've paid to get inside his head, I would've stolen money to do so. Instead, I understood nothing. I was angry, confused, lost, excited and scared. I felt all those mixed emotions band my chest, closing snug around my lungs, and I wanted to climb out of my own body so I could escape all the overwhelming sensations.

Too bad I'd left the ice cream behind and couldn't even binge away my misery.

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50

The Stillburrow Crush

by Linda Kage

Turns out Appomattox Court House wasn't a what but a where. Appomattox Court House, Virginia was the name of the town where the Civil War ended. It was where Robert E.

Lee, leading the South, met up with Ulysses S. Grant, leading the North. On April 9, 1865, Lee and Grant stood face-to-face in the McLean home and reunited the country, ending the Southern attempt to secede and stopping a war that had already cost more American lives than any other war the United States had fought. What had once been a town, and only the county seat for Appomattox County in Virginia, was now a national park and a legend.

After reading about Appomattox Court House, my mind began to wander. Lying stomach down on my bed, I rested my chin on my hands, stuck my feet in the air, and absorbed the story. I had a layout to put together for the paper and should've forged ahead with that, but I was suddenly very glad Abby had mentioned Appomattox Court House to me.

The mysteries behind this town were fascinating. I was curious to find out how such a huge war could end in this small place, which was basically in the middle of nothing. If I'd been alive back in the 1860s, I'm sure my investigative journalism would've taken me right to Appomattox Court House.