Page 54 of Enemy Crush
“Sorry,” he said, unapologetically doing it again, this time with a smile.
It sent a shiver through me. For some unknown reason that noise had always given me the heebie-jeebies. I nudged him in the shoulder, but what should have been a playful shove made me shiver in a different way. In the kind of breathless, butterflies-in-your-stomach type of way.
He laughed and his brown eyes twinkled at me, or it seemed like they did, but it was probably my extreme fatigue makingme see wonky. Out of necessity, I shifted over in my seat, still struggling with simply breathing.
Miller, too, moved as if trying not to be so close to me. I spent the whole ride back to school wondering if I should ask if he was working the market, but never did.
I HAD INTENTIONS OFgetting up early, washing and styling my hair and doing my makeup for the market—in case I saw any of my prep school friends—but I snoozed my alarm and ended up in a mad rush, barely having enough time to dress, wash my face and clean my teeth.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I seethed at Mom as I came racing down the stairs, pulling on my Hamlin Farms cap because I hadn’t had a chance to brush my hair.
“I thought you were already up,” Mom said, looking all trim in her active wear. “I guess the late nights are catching up on you.”
“Nice sporty vibe,” I said, eyeing the floral headband before dropping to her pink sneakers, “Wait—are those new?”
“No, they are not,” Mom retorted, picking up her black Lululemon gym bag. “I’ve had these for years.”
“They look brand new,” I challenged.
“I’d forgotten I had them.” Her voice wavered with a kind of desperation. “I found them in my closet. Believe me, Quinn, I haven’t bought a single thing for myself in months. That’s the honest truth.”
I glared at the clean crisp sneakers for a few more seconds before flashing Mom a grin, “I’m just kidding...”
Mom inhaled sharply and tilted her chin. “I knew that,” she said, striding to the front door.
I flung my crossbody bag over my shoulder, noticing that I’d forgotten to choose another Squishmallow. I’d taken Cornelias off last night and had meant to replace him. “Wait two seconds,” I said, dashing up the stairs.
Miller had been curious about Cornelias last week, so changing him up might spark a conversation, however lame. I scanned my ladder shelf where my clip-ons hung, easily locating the bright red and yellow Floyd. He was a French Fry, kind of appropriate considering the amount of French fries we’d all eaten during the harvest. Miller might think he was cute, if in fact he was going to be there. He might not.
Mom had started the car and I jumped in, pulling the seatbelt across me before clipping Floyd to my purse.
“What’s that?” Mom asked.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, squeezing Floyd in my palm, knowing how much she disapproved of my silly little toys.
“No, it’s something,” Mom said with an unexpected softness. “What is it?”
“Just a silly little Squishmallow,” I said dismissively, holding my hand open for a second before squeezing Floyd again.
“I didn’t see it,” Mom said, taking her eyes off of the driveway for a moment.
I held up Floyd. “It’s a French fry, you know, for the potatoes we sell. I thought it’d be fun. Our Russets make the best French fries, you know.” No need to mention anything about Miller.
“You know your spuds now, do you?”
“I should,” I said. “It’s all I think about. Potatoes, potatoes, potatoes.”
“You’ll be looking forward to getting back to school next week then?”
I shrugged. “Not really. I actually liked doing the harvest. I mean, it’s been hard work, but I haven’t minded it one bit.” I turned to her and frowned. “You’re not wearing any makeup,you know.” It was unusual to see Mom without a full face, especially going out in public.
“Neither are you,” she chirped back.
“That’s because I was running late. You’re lucky I’m not in my pajamas.”
Mom’s focus was on the road, though there wasn’t much traffic at this time of the morning. “You don’t need it,” she said, “your face is beautiful.”
Hearing those words from Mom, I scrunched my face, sure it wasn’t beautiful. “Huh?”
