Page 19 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

Please say you’re staying.

“Mama got a job here.”

Yes!

“Oh. What does she do?”

“She’s working over at that new canning factory just outside of town.”

I grin. “My dad works there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s one of the managers. Are you going to be at school tomorrow?” I ask hopefully.

Her face falls. “Oh, no. Daddy doesn’t believe in schools. Says the government’s trying to make commies out of us.”

My excitement plummets. “Oh. So how do you learn, then?”

She shrugs. “My dad teaches me.”

“Huh.” I can’t help but look back toward the church. That rude, obnoxious man teaching in front of a blackboard in a suit and tie like Mr. Hardman? It doesn’t seem possible.

“But you’ll be coming back here next Sunday?” I can barely keep the hope out of my voice.

She picks up a fluffy dandelion. “Most likely.” The two of us watch it, and the way the seeds fly off as she twirls the stem back and forth until there’s a single seed left.

“Mama says you can make a wish on these,” she says solemnly. “What would you wish for if you could have anything?” she asks.

Before I can stop it, I’m smiling. “To sing in front of hundreds of people.”

She smiles back. “You could do it, you know. You’re a great singer.”

I feel a flush of heat spread across my cheeks. “Nah.”

She shoves my shoulder and gives a knowing nod. “You could! I heard you. You could be the next Johnny Cash.”

My face on fire, I look down at my fidgeting hands. “Thanks.” I swallow hard. “What would you wish for?”

She throws away the dandelion, then fingers the gold pendant hanging around her neck I didn’t notice before. The thin gold chain wraps around her delicate fingers and I realize it’s a golden sun. When I glance back up, she sighs. “To feel loved.”

My brows pinch, not understanding. “You don’t feel loved? But—but what about your parents? They love you, right?”

She half chuckles then looks away before pulling her knees up under her chin. “No. No, I don’t think they do.”

“Oh,” I say, then fall silent. What can I say after that?

We’re quiet for a while. The adults and kids begin to pour out the front doors of the church toward the parking lot. I spot my little brother with my parents and realize my time with this girl is about to end. Standing, I look down into her blue eyes, my heart beating quicker than if I’d just run a mile.

“Maybe I’ll see you next Sunday?” I ask.

She grins and nods. “I hope so. I’m Dusty Connors, by the way.”

The breeze rustles her copper hair and those eyes sparkle like a blazing comet through the night. “I’m Keith. Keith Prentiss.”

CHAPTER5

You’re My Best Friend

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