The corners of Kylee’s lips turned up. She waved, but he’d already turned his attention back to Lisa. Kylee didn’t move from her spot until he and Lisa went through the gate and ran up the sidewalk to their house.

“He looked at me,” she whispered, pulling open the screen door and going inside.

She settled herself on the kitchen floor and folded the laundry. At least only the top pieces were wet.

The front door opened, and Kylee looked up to see her mother vanish into the laundry room. “Well. That’s done,” Theresa said.

Kylee craned her head to peer after her. Her mom didn’t even look wet. A glance out the window showed the water still coming down in buckets. “Some rain storm, huh? How’d you stay dry?”

No response from the other room.

Kylee put the towels away first, then her own clothing. She left her mom and Bill’s clothes in two little piles by the closed bedroom door.

Carrying the kitchen rags in one hand and the basket in the other, she made her way back to the kitchen.

Kylee tossed the empty basket into the laundry room, then went to the kitchen. She opened the oven. There sat the raw chicken in its roaster, seasonings speckled over the bumpy off-white skin. Soon a bath of carrots, potatoes, and onions would accompany it.

The rain was slowing. Kylee walked into the dining room and looked out the window. Water spilled down the roof from the overflowing gutters. The air inside the house felt humid, stuffy. She wanted to open a window. She wanted to flee outside and find freedom.

She heard her mother talking to herself. Should she be concerned? Was her mother losing it? She turned around and went back to the kitchen.

Her mom opened the refrigerator, a tuneless hum escaping her lips. She didn’t so much as cast her eyes in Kylee’s direction.

“I’m taking a break,” Kylee grumbled. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room.” When her mom didn’t make a move to stop her, Kylee exited the small kitchen.

Her bedroom door was closed again. “Quit closing my door, Mom!” she muttered under her breath. She shoved it open and went inside.

YYY

By the time Bill got home, the sun was out, drying up the puddles as if they hadn’t existed. The sky glowed an odd greenish blue, like the ocean when the seaweed strands neared the surface.

She went outside to get the mail before Bill complained about her. As expected, Price was in his yard, playing with the dog. Kylee slowed her walk to the mailbox. She reached up and tugged on a piece of her blond hair.

Look at me, she willed. Come on, look at me.

He didn’t. Kylee reached the mailbox and yanked on the jammed lid. Nothing. Now what? She couldn’t go home without talking to Price. So much for subtlety. She walked over to the fence and pressed her toes against the pole. “Hi,” she called.

Price had just thrown the stick for his dog, and he whipped around, eyes widening. He glanced around the yard and up and down the street before facing her. “Hi. Didn’t see you there.”

Kylee shrugged. “Yeah, well. I guess I was quiet.”

“Yeah. You came out of nowhere.” He approached the fence as well, his expression still a bit cautious.

“No one’s around to see you talking to me,” she teased.

His cheeks reddened, and he looked down. The dog joined him, butting the stick into Price’s palm.

She hardly believed it. That was what he’d been checking for! Kylee sighed. “Don’t worry. I won’t talk to you when other people are nearby. I’d hate to embarrass you.”

“Hey, it’s not that,” Price protested, looking up again. “Give me a break.”

She studied him, one hand poised to shove off the fence and push her toward home. But she could be persuaded to stay. “Give me a reason to. What’s your issue with me?”

He laughed under his breath and shook his head.

“What?” Kylee asked. “What’s so funny? I’m not stupid, you know. I know when someone’s laughing at me.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He coughed. “You’re right. You’re very smart.”

“Shut up.”

He guffawed. Yet somehow, she knew his laughter was friendly now. She liked the rich sound of it. Her shoulders relaxed, and she stepped closer.

“How’s school? Do you like it here?”

“I like it fine. It’s a nice town.”

“Have you made any friends? Do you know Jessica White?” Kylee pressed, suddenly wanting to know more about the life she’d left behind. “What classes are you taking? Do people mention me?” Her heart beat faster with anticipation, hope, nerves. She hated to think she no longer existed to the outside world.

Price kicked a rock into the grass. He pushed at it with the toe of his shoe, embedding it further in the green stalks. “I don’t want to talk about school.”

“Oh. You don’t like it?”

He shrugged.

“Maybe you’d like it if you couldn’t go anymore.”

“I doubt it.”

She tried to give him a flirtatious smile, but at the last moment she lost her nerve. Kylee swallowed her fear and straightened her shoulders.

“So talk about the weekend. What are you doing Saturday?” Oh, lordy, she was being gutsy! Her fingers plucked at a rusty nail poking through to her side of the fence. Fascinating coloring. “Not that you have to tell me. Unless you want to.”

He rested his elbow on the chest-high railing. “Actually, I’m going to the beach.”

Kylee perked up. Even though Bill worked at the docks, she and her mother never went to the beach. “Can I come? I’d love to go. I haven’t been in so long.”

“Uh—”

“Oh, please. You won’t notice me. In fact, just give me a ride there and bring me home.” Now that she’d had the idea, it seemed impossible not to go. She could already feel the sunshine on her deprived skin. She’d suffocate in that old house if she didn’t get to the beach. She stood on her tiptoes, begging. “I’ll even ride in the trunk. Please?”

He cast his eyes upward toward the sun. “Well, it’s not just me going. I’m catching a ride with friends.”

“There’s room for one more, right?”

Price blinked at her and twirled one hand. “I can’t ask them to take you. I mean, it’s not my car. It’s kind of rude.”

Kylee took a step back from the fence, her shoulders hunching forward as she deflated. “You just don’t want your friends to know you talked to me.”

“No,” he said. “It’s not that.”

“Who’s picking you up? Michael? Amy?” Of the twelve hundred students at Kellam High, only a small handful lived in this part of town. Whoever he was going with had to be a friend of hers. “Forget it. Tell everyone hi for me.”

She turned on her heel and stomped toward the house.

“Kylee,” Price called after her.

He remembered her name. In spite of her anger and hurt, a spark of triumph flared in her chest.

It wasn’t enough to slow her down, though.