The floating wisps of yellow were how her laughter sounded in the air.
The silver dust was how she made Ash feel whenever she was on the other side of the fence, like every particle within him lit up just because she was near.
“Your family is really… lively,” was all Ash said aloud.
Cassidy deflated. “Oh. Is that it?”
He realized she wanted more. Shedeservedmore. He’d gone on and on about the other houses. But that was talk about art, and this was dangerously walking the line of being about her—and his feelings for her. Ash’s voice threatened to flee again.
“Yeah,” he croaked. “That’s it.”
End of subject. One hundred percent awkward. Maybe he should have waited to find out which tarot card Onny had pulled.…
It was probably The Three of Swords impaling a heart. Or The Tower, with him falling to his death. Or The Fool. Ash didn’t actually know what that card meant, but he did know how stupid felt.
But Cassidy was studying the fence and smiling, and that smile grew bigger and brighter the longer she looked. “I see it,” she whispered. “The mural is really happy. There’s so much energy and love in it, just like my mom and dad and brothers.” She turned to Ash and unleashed her smile on him.
He melted in her radiance. He’d been wrong: girlswerelike paintings, or at least Cassidy was. She made him feel all five senses at once, and the bright light of her spirit consumed him. He wanted to stay here and drink her in for hours, to sketch her, listen to her, learn every angle of the way she thought and the way she breathed and even the way she propped her arms on her knees.
If he were braver, he would ask her to let him do all those things.
Instead, Mrs. Rivera’s truck pulled up in the driveway and honked.
“Want to rebuild a fence with me?” Ash asked Cassidy.
It wasn’t quite as daring as telling her she was his Mona Lisa.
But she nodded, and that was worth something.
Ricky and Jordan were horsing around in the truck bed when Ash and Cassidy got to the driveway. There were two-by-fours and fence planks, as well as pumpkins of all shapes and sizes.
“This big one looks like your belly before you take a dump,” Jordan said, giggling at an orange pumpkin with an enormous bulge in the middle.
“Oh yeah?” Ricky picked up a green-and-white-striped pumpkin covered in warts. “This one looks like your face.”
“Mom!” Jordan yelled.
“He started it,” Ricky said.
“Both of you—shut it,” Mrs. Rivera said, coming around from the front of the truck. “And get out of there before you crush all our decorations or break the wood.”
Once Ricky and Jordan jumped out of the truck bed, Ash began to unload the planks.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Mrs. Rivera said, “you don’t need to do that. This is Cassidy’s punishment. She’ll do it.”
“I don’t mind,” Ash said. “Besides, it’ll be faster if we work together.”
“I suppose you’ve probably learned a thing or two about carpentry from your stepdad,” Mrs. Rivera said.
Jordan ran over to Ash. “I wanna build things! I’ll help!” He tried to pick up one of the two-by-fours, but it was almost as long as he was tall, and he swiveled dangerously.
“Whoa,” Cassidy said, catching the end of the two-by-four. “Why don’t I take that before you knock someone’s knees out?”
He scowled at her. “I had it totally under control.”
“I know, buddy. It’s just that you’re stronger than you realize.”
“I’m a superhero,” Jordan said to Ash matter-of-factly. “But don’t tell anyone, because, you know, I have to keep my identity secret.”
