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“And he has a kayak. Has he told you that?”
“We haven’t gotten to do much talking,” Hana says.
A frosty silence takes over.
Nick presses his fist to his mouth and clears his throat. “I—um—I have a kayak.” He folds his leg over the other, ankle over knee, like before. When his foot starts wagging, I know it’s not the good, happy kind of movement.
He’s picking up on the tension that’s blossomed at this table, a little bigger with every passing minute.
Every passing minute that I’m robbing from them.
“Honestly, I should go,” I mutter.
Nick’s eyes hook on mine. “Nice of you to stop over.” I can see the meaning behind his words, etched into his pupils:What’s going on, Maddison?
Like I know.
I wave at Outlaw. “Yeah—um, ya know. Dragged along. I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Bye, Maddison,” Hana chirps. She wiggles her fingers at me.
I back up a few steps, then finally turn. As I hot-foot it away from the coffee shop, I realize I didn’t even go inside to hang a darn flyer.
Chapter 11
Nick
Maddison’s on my front porch, facing the street.
Smiling to myself, I watch her. Afternoon sun bathes her right shoulder, one side of her back, the curve of one hip. She’s in her faded jeans like usual. I know even before she turns how threadbare and white the knees will be. I got a good enough look at her attire this morning, when she stopped by the coffee shop.
At exactly ten o’clock.
“So… you want to talk about it?” I ask, once I’ve pulled the door open.
She turns on her heel. Outlaw, on a leash and seated beside her, jumps up to all fours and trots past me. His leash threads against my legs until Maddison scurries around me and unclips him.
“Uh—about what?”
“About elm trees, for one thing. How skinny the one on Main Street is. A few leaves, but not enough.”
“Enough for what?”
Outlaw’s nails clatter against the wooden steps as he runs upstairs.
I take a step up, too.
When I turn and face Maddison, she’s a full foot shorter than me. “For hiding behind.”
I start hiking up the stairs.
Her footsteps follow. “Hm. About that. I wasn’t so much hiding behind that elm tree as I wasstandingbehind it while a certain dog enjoyed the scent of three-day-old rain water and rotting leaves.”
“You looked like you were hiding, to me.”
“You saw me over there? Why didn’t you wave?”
“Because you seemed to be getting some kind of kick out of your snooping. I figured I’d let you have your fun. So—what do you think?”
