On the Fence(25)

“You scared me.”

He looked at the door behind me, then back to me. “What are you doing and why did you have a goofy grin on your face when you came in here? You sneaking around? Is there some boy I need to beat up?”

My cheeks flushed involuntarily. Nobody knew about my fence chats with Braden, and I planned to keep it that way. “No. I’m not sneaking around. I was walking around the yard because you wouldn’t run with me tonight and I couldn’t sleep.” Before he had a chance to analyze that statement I turned it on him. “Did you just get home? Dad is going to kill you.”

“No. I’ve been home. I just got hungry.”

I pulled a bowl from the cupboard and poured myself some Cocoa Krispies. He slid over a little and I joined him on the counter.

“Are you saying you’d tattle on me if I’d just gotten home?”

I took a bite of cereal and nodded. “Yes. I’m tired of being the one in trouble. Maybe he’d make you get a job.”

Gage flashed me his smile. “Ooh. You think Linda would hire me? I could help girls pick out clothes. I’d be good at that.”

“Flirting with girls is not the same as helping them, Gage.”

He shrugged. “Dad would never make me get a job anyway. I’m his favorite.”

“We all know Nathan is his favorite.”

“True. Well, I’m positive I was Mom’s favorite.”

My spoon stopped halfway to my mouth and my eyes darted to his. It wasn’t often the word Mom was used in our house. Gage was only a year older than me. I thought there was no way he could remember any more than I did.

“Were you?” I asked in a voice just above a whisper.

He tousled my hair and slid off the counter. “It was just a joke, Charlie. I’m sure Mom didn’t have a favorite.” He placed his empty bowl in the sink. “But if she did, it was me. Who could resist this face?”

“Me, for one.”

“Oh, please. You are the most easily persuaded. You do anything I ask.”

I kicked him in the side and he let out a grunt. “In your dreams.”

“No kicking.”

I kicked him again, but this time he grabbed my foot. “Seriously, that hurts. If you didn’t have massive legs, I’d let you kick me.”

“Massive?”

“Have you seen your thigh muscles lately? Your soccer coach is going to be so happy.”

I yanked my foot away from him, sloshing milk onto my hand. I wiped the milk on my sweats and took another bite. “Did she ever go to any of your games?”

“What? Who?”

I could barely swallow my mouthful of cereal. “Mom. Did she ever go to any of your soccer games?”

“You think I remember? I was seven when . . .” He trailed off. It’s not like he needed to finish. I knew. We all knew how that sentence ended. When she died. When her car slid off the road in the rain and into a ditch. And normally that sentence tightened across my chest and wouldn’t let go for several minutes. But today, my brain clung to the first part of his statement. He didn’t remember. Just like me. So we were just too young to have any real memories. Or . . . or nothing. We were too young.

“I’m going to bed,” he said.

I nodded, kind of regretting pushing the Mom topic. This was why I didn’t do it. It had a way of turning even Gage sad. I wished I hadn’t gotten a bowl of cereal because now I felt like I had to finish it. And instead of the giddy feelings I’d brought inside after my talk with Braden, my stomach hurt. Gage paused, took a breath like he was going to say something, then stopped. I held my breath in anticipation, but then his eyes drifted to the back door. I worried he was going to put two and two together about Braden and me. So I did the only thing I could think of. I flung a spoonful of Cocoa Krispies at him.



Saturday morning arrived, much to my stomach’s dismay. It bombarded me with nervous flutters the likes of which I hadn’t known since trying out for the basketball team my freshman year. I knew I couldn’t get out of lunch with Amber and her friends today. But if I went they would find out I was a fraud. That I knew nothing about anything they’d want to talk about. Girls like her didn’t give me the time of day at school. Granted, I’d surrounded myself well, with my wall of brothers on one side and my teammates on the other, but girls like Amber didn’t really mix with girls like me. We had nothing in common. I wasn’t looking forward to it. I pulled some of my “cute” clothes out of the back of my closet and threw them in my backpack to change into at work.

“Charlie, can I talk to you?” my dad called from the kitchen as I headed for the front door.

“Sure.” I wheeled back around and poked my head through the kitchen doorway. For a second, panic rushed through me, thinking Gage had told my dad about me roaming the yard at one a.m. But then I remembered this was Gage. He wouldn’t tell on me.

“You’ve been working hard,” my dad said, gesturing toward the bar stool in front of him.

I sat down. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I think we’ve both proved the point. I know you have basketball camp starting soon.”

I nodded. Four weeks. And I’d been wondering if it was going to be a fight to let me go.

“Have you earned enough to pay off your most recent ticket?”