“Hi.”
I jerked out of my poor-me thoughts and looked up. My breath caught like I’d been punched in the gut.
It was a girl.
Not just any girl.Thegirl.
I couldn’t stop staring. She didn’t seem real. Shecouldn’tbe real; she was too pretty—Alice in Wonderland in a pink dress instead of blue, her thick blond hair curling in long ribbons around puffy sleeves. Big blue-green eyes watched me with curiosity, and her smile included the whole world. It includedmewhen I’d never felt more alone in my life.
But she was obviously a Richie, and I was from the Bend. Once she knew that, this perfect girl would walk away. Or I’d drive her away. It only took most kids a few minutes of talking to me to decide I was too freakish to be friends. I’d learned the hard way it was better not to try. Better to be a jerk and save us all the trouble.
“Hey,” I answered finally, tearing my eyes off of her and training them on my ratty shoes.
“What are you doing here by yourself?”
The girl’s voice was high and sweet, mine full of bitterness.
“Nothing. Sitting. Is that allowed?”
She jerked a thumb to the kids playing behind us. “I saw you from over there. You looked so sad and lonely; I thought I’d say hi.”
I scowled. “I’m not sadorlonely.”
The girl scuffed her shoe in the dirt. “Oh, okay. Sorry.”
I felt bad.Shelooked sad and lonely but covered it with her pretty smile. She wasn’t dressed for the park in her fancy dress and shiny black shoes, either. More for a family photo or special occasion. She even had something pink and glittery painted on her lips. This girl looked made-up, like a little doll.
Or maybe this is how Richies go to barbecues at the park.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Bad day.”
“Yeah, me too.” She brightened and held out her hand. “I’m Emery Wallace.”
Slowly, I took her hand, certain my hair was going to stand on end when our skin touched. “Xander Ford.”
“Pleased to meet you, Xander.”
She gave my hand one strong shake, as if we’d made a business deal. When she let go, I could still feel her touch on my palm. My fingers curled to keep it.
“What are you doing out here, Xander?” Emery smiled. “I like saying your name. Xander with aZ.”
“With anX. It’s short for Alexander.”
“Oh. Why not go by Alex?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
She nodded, thinking. “That’s smart. Lots of Alexes. I don’t know any Xanders. But now I know you!”
The friendliness in her voice hit me right in the chest, warming over the icy cold spot where Mom used to be, just a little bit.
Emery glanced around. “Why are you by the parking lot?”
“I’m waiting for my dad to pick me up.”
“Are you here by yourself?”
“Yes.”
