A Quarrel Called: Stewards Of The Plane Book 1 (3 page)

05. MELODY

I didn’t know what to do about Sam. He obviously liked me,
and maybe I might have been interested in him a little bit last
fall
, but now he just seemed so impossibly
Sam
. I liked our friendship the way it
was, and making out (or whatever) was bound to ruin it.
And
then what?
Then it would be just me and Tara, that’s what. And I had to
admit, Sam was the one who made us fun. I wasn’t spontaneous enough to let
loose like Tara, but she always had her head in the clouds. Sam brought her
down to earth and brought me out of my shell. So having some sort of
relationship with him was bound to screw things up.

At least Tara wasn’t mooning over him anymore – she had a
new guy lined up in her sights. I must have gotten thirty text messages from
her last night alone trying to glean every little scrap of memory I had of G.
from kindergarten. Good grief, the girl was obsessive, in a cute and fluttery
kind of way, as if the Mad Hatter met Tinker Belle and they had a baby.

I took another sip of my coffee and sighed in happiness.
Dark chocolate notes with a hazelnut aftertaste; I loved the Mexican Chiapas
beans they used at Smitty’s. My phone buzzed in my pocket, I didn’t even have
to look,
I
knew who it was.

#

“You’re going to invite G., right?” she asked, arching one
of her brows. She was folding laundry and doing it badly.

“Here, give me that,” I said, grabbing the slacks from her.
“You’re going to wrinkle your mom’s pants and then she’s going to be mad. Of
course I am going to invite G. That’s the whole reason I’m having this part- I
mean get-together—in the first place.” I folded her mom’s slacks along the
crease in the front and grabbed another pair out of the pile. “I thought it
would be good for him to get to know some people before school
starts
.”

“
Right,
and it’s not because you’ve
got dibs on him or anything?” She was not looking at me with
interest
.

“What? No. I can clearly see you’ve staked your claim.
Besides, he already texted me about you.”

Her eyeballs nearly popped out of her head. Good thing she
was wearing her glasses to keep them in. “Really?” She shrieked a little bit on
that last part.

“Seriously Tara, would I make something like that up? Yes,
really. He wanted to know what you were like. And he said you had crazy hair.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Well, I doubt he would have texted me about you in the
first place if it was bad.”

Tara grabbed the remaining stray socks, scooped them into a
pile, and plopped on the bed. “Well that’s unexpected. I mean, awesome, but
unexpected.”

Here we go. “What?”

“If he likes me back – I’m not sure what to do about that,
you know? No one has ever liked me back before.”

“You’ll figure it out. Just be natural, don’t try too hard
to impress him with your encyclopedic brain, and for Pete’s sake, don’t start
talking all your crazy new-age talk until after he’s gotten to know you a
little bit.”

Tara nodded sagely.
“Right.
Don’t
want to scare him off. What should I wear?”

06. TARA

I pulled a flouncy skirt out of my closet and held it up,
examining myself in the full-length mirror across the room. Sigh. I don't have
Mel's legs – maybe I should focus on the assets I
do
have. I looked down at my cleavage and grinned. Something sassy
but not too revealing—I don't want G. to think I'm easy. On the other hand,
he's really tall, so anything a
little
revealing... I spied an indigo colored scoop-neck blouse with the tag still on;
I held it up to my chest.

“Hello, Othello.” The indigo made my eyes stand out, and my
hair went from brassy gold to tawny just from the contrast. Oh, yeah.

It was kind of hot out, but since Mel always seemed to have
the AC on arctic-cold, I decided to pair the blouse with some skinny jeans, a
silver medallion belt cinched at the waist to accentuate my
curves
, and slouch boots.

Clothes on, hair fluffed, mascara, eyeliner and lip gloss applied,
I surveyed my “look.” A little bit sexy, a little bit bookish. Perfect. I
reached up to pull the string on my closet light and saw the game boxes piled
on the top shelf. Most of them were not party material, but the Spirit Board
caught my eye. If ever there was a time to pull out something spooky and fun,
this was it, and who cared what Sam would say?

I pulled it down and made for the door. The new quartz
crystal glinted at me from my nightstand; I grabbed it as an afterthought. I'd
never used the Spirit Board before, but I was pretty sure I read somewhere that
having a crystal around would keep it 'light' in case the thing actually
worked.

A car honked outside. “Bye Mom, going to Mel's!” I shouted,
half out the door. I didn't wait for her response—she knew my routine. It was
the summer, it was the weekend, and I was going to be at Mel's and home by one.
It had been the same practically every weekend since I started my sophomore
year.

“What's that?” asked Mel, glancing at the box as I slid into
the passenger seat and slammed the door.

“It's a Spirit Board. I thought maybe video games would get
old, and something like this would be fun for later when it gets dark out.”

Mel shrugged. “I doubt they will ever get bored of video
games, but who knows? Good idea to have a backup. I've never used one.”

“Me either,” I said, my hand sliding over the top of the
box. “My Aunt gave it to me one year for Christmas. She said she had one
growing up, and it was fun for slumber parties. But I pretty much forgot about
it until tonight when I saw it in the closet. I've never even opened the box.”

“Cool. Let's stop by the store. Sam said he could get me a
discount on a party tray.
Should we get anything else besides
that and soda?”

“Probably extra crackers and chips and
stuff.
I brought ten bucks so I could chip in.” I pulled the worn ten
dollar bill out of my wallet and flipped it to her, as if money
were
nothing and I was made of the stuff, all
nonchalant-like. I
really
needed a
job.

Melody took the bill and stuffed it into her pocket and
grinned. “Thanks! That will help.” She pulled into the parking space and shut
off the car. “Are you nervous?”

“What, me?
Pshaw. You think I dress
like this every day?”

“I know you don't. But you look great.” She grinned again.
“Can you can help me with my hair?”

“Of course.
As
long as you have lots of hairspray.”
Melody's hair was famously
straight, and she was always trying to do something
nonstraight
with it. “Who are you dressing up for?”

“No one in particular.
But it can't
hurt. Sam is bringing Colton and Tyler with him.”

“I feel
ya
, Ophelia.”

Sam, Sam, Sam. Don't
you know better than to invite cute friends to your not-so-secret-crush's
party?

07 G.

There were a couple of cars parked in front of the house,
the evening sun glinting off of windshields and custom wheels. I parked behind
them and let the engine idle for a second or two before turning it off. Meeting
new people was never really my thing, so I was totally out of my comfort zone.
Melody said on the phone that Tara was going to be there and was already
picking her brain about me, which just pushed me over the edge of nervous and
into dread. My palms were sweaty and I hoped that the body spray I used after
the shower was enough to cover the faint smell of grease left over from The
Blossom.

I knocked and waited for someone to answer. It seemed
awfully quiet for a party. Before long, an older lady with flowy gray hair and
a smile opened the door wide. “You must be Gideon,” she said, and pulled me in.

My jaw dropped in surprise, “No, it's just G.--”

“Melody and the others are in Matthew’s—I mean the
clubhouse, out back. Go on through.” She ignored my protest and shooed me down
the central hall of the house toward a screen door that opened into the
backyard. Just as I was about to push the door open, the lady reappeared and
put a glass of lemonade in my hand. “Don't be shy. They're a good bunch. And
please tell Melody to come in for a moment to say good night to her
grandfather.”

The yard was nicely landscaped with some sort of smelly herb
garden thing on one end and a bunch of rose bushes on the other. There was
mismatched patio furniture, an old chiminea, and lots of great big pecan trees.
There was a small, square white building on the far end near the rose bushes
that had brightly lit windows and familiar noises emanating from it.

“Aw, man, you totally had that!” someone yelled as I stepped
into the doorway. Just inside I could see a kitchen-style counter with snacks,
a table and chairs with the girls clustered around it, and a few guys perched
on a couple of old loveseats playing video games. A local Top-40 radio station
played in the background. I took a breath. No point in going gutless now.

“Hey Melody,” I said as I approached the table. “You're
supposed to go in and say goodnight to your grandfather.”

Melody turned.
“Oh, hey G.!
Everybody, this is G. G., this is Shelby, Tara you already know, Brittney,” she
paused to point toward the couch, “Tyler, Colton,
Sam
.”

I don't think I spared more than a glance for the guys once
my eyes landed on Tara. She looked
hot
.
And she had even more of that crazy hair than I remembered. Maybe I would start
calling her Rapunzel. “Hey,” I said, my gaze locked on hers.

“Hey.” She grinned back, her cheeks going a little pink.

I made a valiant effort to resist looking to see whether or
not the pink tinge traveled down her neck to her br... Ahem. Crap, failed my
saving throw. Her curves were even curvier than I remembered. Now it was my
turn for my face to get hot.

I felt a jarring slap on my shoulder and looked to see Sam,
grinning from Tara to me like he'd won some sort of prize. “How's your
skillz
?”

“Depends on the game,” I countered, sneaking a glance back
at Tara, whose smile fell a little.

“
Road Kill: Vengeance
,”
he said, nodding toward the game deck.

“Not great. When you get to
Omega Wars
, though, give me a shout.” I turned back to Tara.

Sam gave me an absent-minded wave and went back to gaming,
and from the look Rapunzel gave me, I knew I'd made the right choice.

We sat out on the stoop and watched the fireflies buzz
through the air, rowdy hoots and hollers coming from the clubhouse behind us.
It was one of those pauses I usually dreaded, the kind where both people go
silent and you search around for something to say. Except this time, sitting
with Tara, as close as I could get to her without touching, I didn’t feel the
urge to fill the silence with anything. Instead I looked out over the garden,
moonlight illuminating the roses and the patio furniture, yellow lights glowing
in the windows of the house beyond, and I felt supercharged. There was
something in the air, or maybe it was just being so close to Tara, but I swear
I knew every breath she took and could practically feel the heat of her hand
where it sat on her knee, a few inches away from mine. My hand twitched. I
wanted to touch her so bad it was distracting. I took a drink from my soda
instead.

“So when Melody’s grandmother told me to come out here, she
called this Matthew’s clubhouse? Who’s Matthew?”

Tara rustled and shifted next to me, and I felt each
movement as if we were connected by strings. The mood changed a little bit and
I turned to look at her, suddenly afraid I had said something wrong. The moonlight
lit her hair up like strands of gold, and the shadow between her breasts
threatened to make me forget my own name. Good Lord, I had never felt like this
around a girl before. What the hell was wrong with me?

Except I
liked
it.

“Matthew is, was, Melody’s older brother. When he graduated
from high school, Melody’s grandparents turned this building into a small
apartment for him so that he could have his own “place.” One day he didn’t come
home from work, and the next day he didn’t come home either…and Melody went to
look for him at his garage. It was a mess. She found a lot of blood and
evidence something really bad had happened, but no Matthew.

“They did a DNA
test,
it was
definitely Matthew’s blood, so finally they had a funeral with an empty casket.
For a while no one came out here.” She paused. “And then a few months ago,
Melody and her grandmother packed up Matthew’s personal stuff and decided to
turn the place into a clubhouse. But this is the first time she’s actually used
it. It’s been really hard on her. I’m glad she’s finally—” her hand fluttered
like it was reaching for the right words.

“Man, that’s rough.” I said, sorry I had brought it up.

“Yeah, it is.” She got still for a moment, looking off
toward the house and the patio.

I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, so I said nothing. If
it were me and one of my boys talking, we’d just wait it out.

Finally she broke the silence. “Hey, they sound like they’re
getting tired of video games in there.
Wanna
go in
and see?” She
smiled,
a mischievous glint in her eye.
“I brought something spooky to try now that it’s dark out.”

Glad for the change of subject, I grinned. Standing, I held
out a hand to help her up and felt my insides flip flop when she grabbed it.
Apparently she felt it too, because she giggled and her fingers tightened on
mine.

“I’ve been waiting hours for you to do that,” she smiled.