Page 50 of Novel Problems

“Who knows what other dangers are lurking in this cherry orchard,” George whispered close to my ear. Her soft breath on my cheek sent my pulse racing.

“Pairs sound good to me!” Jenny said, turning to Blake with a cheeky grin. “You can go up the tree first.”

“Gee, thanks,” Blake responded, sounding less than thrilled.

I suddenly became ridiculously nervous. George and I were standing right next to each other, so it made sense that we’d pair off together, but I didn’t want to assume. Memories of waiting to be picked by some boy I wasn’t interested in at high school dances, all the while wishing Sadie Charlesworth, my long-standing teen crush, would snap me up, came rushing back. I mentally shook myself. It really wasn’t the same at all. In this case, all my potential cherry-picking companions were lovely, unlike some of the boys I’d gone to school with. But George was my preferred one. I swallowed.Time to take action, Hannah. You’re not in high school anymore.

“Would you like to pick with me?” I asked George as casually as I could muster. I winced. Good lord, I sounded like a nervous schoolgirl.

If George heard a quiver in my voice, she didn’t let on.She turned to me and grinned. “That sounds great. I’m hoping we’ll get enough so I can make cherry preserves and a cherry pie for the café. By my calculations, we’ll need at least three buckets’ worth of cherries, so we’ll have to pick fast if we want to get strawberries as well. Are you up for the challenge?” She raised an eyebrow, a playful smile dancing on her face.

The buckets were big.Perfect. Lots of opportunity for one-on-one time with George to talk to her about my feelings.

“Challenge accepted.” I reached out my hand and shook George’s, enjoying the soft warmth of her skin against mine.Am I holding on for too long?I quickly dropped her hand, heat prickling my cheeks.

“I’m happy to go up the ladder first,” I said, staring longingly at a bunch of juicy cherries on a tree a few feet away from me.

George chuckled.

“What?” I asked.

“You volunteering to go first on the ladder wouldn’t have anything to do with wanting to sample a few cherries, would it?”

“Excuse me! How dare you!” I said with mock indignation. “My offer was driven by pure selflessness. I’m risking my life on a rickety ladder to get cherries for your pie. The least you could do is show some gratitude.”

“Thank yousomuch,” George said, her dimple appearing in full force. My stomach fluttered. “Well, let’s get to it, then. Not a moment to waste!” She clapped her hands and beelined toward a tree in the middle of the orchard.

I walked swiftly to catch up with her.Should I raise the topic now? George seemed like she was in a rush to getstarted, so perhaps not. Or was I just making excuses to put the conversation off?

I’d almost reached George when a noise made me jump. Loud grunts and snorts filled the air. I twisted my head, trying to identify the source of the sound. George looked similarly confused.

I jogged a few feet to where George was standing. “Where the hell is that coming from? It sounds like there’s a herd of pigs on the loose. Did you jinx us by joking about the dangers lurking in this orchard?”

“Surely we’d be able to see them if there was.” George stepped toward a tree. “It sounds like the noise is coming from up in the trees. Pigs don’t climb trees…do they?” George stared tentatively up the trunk, as if worried a pig might fall out and land on her.

“I’m no expert on pigs, but surely not. Don’t they have short, stubby little legs? That doesn’t seem conducive to tree-climbing.”

George, who’d been examining the tree, suddenly turned to me and grinned. “Okay, we don’t need to worry about being accosted by feral pigs. I found out what’s causing the noise.” She beckoned me over until I was under the tree, and then pointed up. There was a black, box-shaped object attached to the tree. “It’s a speaker. They must be blasting pig noises to scare off birds or something, I guess. How bizarre.”

The speaker emitted an extra-loud snort, and I jumped again. “Good Lord! Let’s find a tree away from the speakers. It’s not exactly the ideal soundtrack for a relaxing afternoon of cherry picking.”Or for the sort of conversation I’m hoping to have with George.

We found a tree a safe distance from the speakers and positioned the ladder under a branch dripping withcherries. Over the faint snorting of pigs, I could hear the others laughing in the distance, but I couldn’t see them. For the first time today, we were alone. Now was my chance to have that relationship talk. I swallowed.

“Are you having second thoughts about going up the tree? I’m happy to do it if you want,” George said gently, clearly picking up that something was bothering me.

“No, no. It’s fine.” I stared up at the gleaming red fruit, my mouth watering, and decided that potentially awkward discussions with George could wait until I’d sampled a few cherries. I’d had an early lunch today, and it was probably best not to have the talk on an empty stomach, especially not when there was such delicious fruit to fill it.

I climbed the ladder and looked around. It was lovely up here, surrounded by green leaves and red cherries. I reached for the nearest bunch, pulling them off one by one. Reaching down, I gently dropped them in the bucket George was holding up high, saving one to try.

I popped it in my mouth as I scanned the branches for the next cluster to pick. Sweet, rich juices rushed over my taste buds.Mmmm.Delicious. But now I was stuck with a cherry pit. If I was by myself, I would have just spat it on the ground, but I wasn’t, and spitting in front of your crush did not seem like a surefire way to woo them. I cursed the lack of pockets in my shorts as I looked around for somewhere to put it. Maybe there’d be a little hole in the tree trunk I could squirrel it away in. But there was no obvious pit storage location.Damnit.I was out of luck. I’d just need to spit it discreetly, far away from where George was standing so she didn’t notice. I carefully aimed on the other side of the tree from George and ejected it undetected.

I moved to the next bunch of cherries and put another one in my mouth as I placed the rest in the bucket. I knew Icouldn’t keep up thisone-for-me-the-rest-for-the-bucketapproach much longer, but hot damn, the cherries were good. I spat the cherry pit again. My stomach dropped as the pit bounced off one of the branches and ricocheted backward, toward George. A strangled yelp left my mouth. George looked up at me just as the cherry pit plummeted directly into her face. I winced.Oh god.

“Shit! I’m so sorry,” I exclaimed as the cherry pit bounced off her cheek and onto the ground. “Are you okay?” I tensed, waiting for George’s reaction. George erupted into laughter.

My muscles eased.Thank god George has a sense of humor.

After what felt like at least a minute, George stopped laughing. “I mean, aggressive pig recordings and projectile cherry pits aren’t exactly what I had in mind when I agreed to go cherry picking,” she said, staring up at me, her cheeky dimple visible. “But I’m completely unharmed by that tiny pit.”

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