Authors: Deborah Raney
Feeling self-conscious, she turned her attention to the grownups’ conversation. She thought her mother looked especially pretty this morning. Her hair fell in golden waves over her shoulders, and her blue eyes sparkled with life as she spoke. Natalie glanced at her own reflection in the window of the Devers’ car. She had her mother’s heart-shaped face. Her hair, too—well, the pale, straw color anyway. Mom’s hair was coarse and wavy, not fine and silky like Natalie’s
.
She heard laughter, and her attention was drawn to the sidewalk in front of the church where Nikki and Noelle were playing a boisterous clapping game
.
Mom called across the parking lot, “Girls … quiet down a little, please. We’re trying to visit.”
Maribeth Dever smiled in the girls’ direction. “I can’t imagine trying to keep up with twins.”
Mom laughed. “Well, they are a handful, but the girls aren’t twins. They’re a year apart. A lot of people make that mistake though.”
“Oh, my!” Mrs. Dever exclaimed. “I would have sworn they were identical! They certainly are the spitting image of their father.”
Natalie watched the smile that spread across her father’s face, watched his chest puff out with pride. How she longed for him to feel proud of her the way he did of his own daughters
.
And that was exactly the problem. For though she called him Daddy, just as Nikki and Noelle did, she did not truly belong to Cole Hunter. Didn’t her very name remind her of that fact every single day she lived? It was hard being a Camfield in a house full of Hunters—always having to explain why she had a different name than the rest of them
.
“Natalie,” her father called, “come on. Time to go.” The family climbed into their van. Sara was invited to ride with them, while the Devers followed in their car. Nicole and Noelle chattered together in the middle seat of the van, while in the back, Natalie and Sara gave each other sidelong glances and said not a word the entire way home
.
Dinner was an apparent success. Natalie’s mother made roast beef sandwiches, and the adults laughed and talked as though they’d known each other forever
.
The kids were relegated to the kitchen table. Though Natalie was feeling rather timid in the presence of their visitors, Jon Dever kept them all laughing. He entertained them by telling stupid jokes and doing disgusting things with his Jell-O salad. And though she would never have admitted it to anyone, by the time dessert was served, Natalie had developed a serious crush on the boy
.
After they ate ice cream, Mom called over the clatter of dirty dishes and silverware, “Natalie, it’s a beautiful day. Why don’t you girls take Jon and Sara outside and show them the barn?”
“Just don’t let Rufus jump up on your good clothes,” Cole Hunter interjected. “You watch him, okay, Nattie?” Daddy turned to Jon and Sara’s parents. “Sometime you’ll have to ask Natalie about the time she and Rufus took a little impromptu swim in the creek.”
“Daddy!”
He winked and cautioned her again. “Just make him behave. I don’t feel like playing lifeguard today.”
“I will,” she promised, as she led their guests out the back door
.
They headed toward the barn. “Do you have animals?” Jon asked
.
“Well, we have a dog—Rufus—that’s who Daddy was talking about. And some cats. But not cows or horses or anything, if that’s what you mean. My dad’s a vet, so he gets enough of animals at work.” She was repeating what she’d heard her mother tell people countless times, but talking to Jon, her heart felt all fluttery and funny in her chest
.
The big golden Labrador came loping up the lane as fast as his old bones would allow. Jon Dever ran ahead to meet the dog. Nicole and Noelle dashed after him
.
“You girls be careful,” Natalie called after them. “Remember what Daddy said.”
Nicole turned in the middle of the lane and put her hands on her hips. “You are not our mother, Natalie Camfield. Quit being so bossy.” She whispered something in Noelle’s ear, and the two giggled wickedly and ran on to the barn
.
Natalie rolled her eyes to cover her embarrassment. “Sisters can be such a pain.”
“Just like big brothers.” Sara smiled knowingly, her pale carrot-colored hair glinting in the sunlight. Then, as though the discrepancy had just occurred to her, she asked, “How come your sister called you Natalie Camfield?”
Natalie rubbed a finger across the frayed edge of her coat sleeve. “Because that’s my name.”
“Oh. That’s a funny middle name.”
“No. It’s my last name.”
Sara wrinkled her freckled nose. “I thought it was Hunter.”
“My last name is Camfield. Daddy isn’t—” she pointed a thumb over her shoulder, back toward the house. “Well, see, he isn’t my real father. It’s a long story,” she explained
.
Sara inclined her head toward Nicole and Noelle, who were leading Jon through the gate to the barnyard. “Is their name Camfield too?”
She sighed. “No. Just me. Nikki and Noelle are Daddy’s real kids.”
“Oh.” Sara brightened. “Kind of like me and Jon.”
Natalie wrinkled her brow. “Huh?”
“I’m adopted, but Mom had Jon,” Sara explained
.
Something about those words made Natalie feel energized, but she shook her head. “Oh, I’m not adopted. Daddy is my stepdad. My mom was married before.”
“Really? Where’s your real dad?”
Natalie usually hated telling her story, but something in Sara’s eyes told her that this girl would understand. After all, Sara apparently knew what it was like to be the oddball of the family. She took a deep breath. “My real dad lives in South America—in Colombia. He’s a missionary doctor.”
Sara gasped. “A missionary? And he got divorced?” She said it as though it were the sin of the century, and Natalie felt her defenses rising
.
“No,” Natalie went on, “It was … well, see, there was a really bad fire in this village, and my mom thought my dad got killed—in the fire—so she came back over here, and that’s when I was born. Then she got married again, but after that they found out my real dad wasn’t dead after all. He was just, like, trapped there or something. It’s kind of complicated. But anyway, when he found out my mom had gotten married again and I already had a really good dad and everything, he decided to go back to South America.”
She waited for the disbelieving reaction she usually got when she recounted these events, but Sara only said, “Wow. That’s amazing. Have you ever met him?”
“Sure. I don’t see him very often ’cause Colombia’s, like, hundreds of miles away. But he comes back sometimes, and then I go visit him at my grandparents’ house. They live in Kansas City. He’s really nice—my dad, I mean.”
“That’s cool.”
“Well, not always. It kind of stinks sometimes. I always have to explain it to everybody. And then they go crazy, like”—she laid a hand on her chest and put on her church-lady voice—“ ‘Oh, you poor girl, how awful, how tragic, how terrible it must be for you.’ ”
Sara broke into contagious laughter that warmed Natalie’s heart and made her laugh too. When they finally quit giggling, Sara said, “Well, my story isn’t quite as good as yours, but I know what you mean. I hate having to explain about Jon.”
“Well, why is it you’re adopted and he’s not?” She hesitated. “Oh … sorry. Here I go making you explain it.”
Sara put a hand on Natalie’s arm. “No. I don’t care if you ask. My mom had to have surgery after Jon was born. It made it so she couldn’t have any more babies, but she and Dad wanted a whole bunch of kids, so they decided to adopt. That’s where I came in. They might even adopt some more kids someday.”
“That would be cool,” Natalie told her. A thought struck her, and before she had time to think about it she blurted out, “Hey! If you guys adopted more kids, then Jon would be the oddball.”
Sara screwed her face up and pronounced in a cartoon-character voice, “Oh, believe me, honey, he’s already an oddball!”
They dissolved into laughter again, and Natalie decided then and there that Sara Dever would be her best friend forever
.
The parking lot of the Sonic Drive-In was almost empty in the lull between the supper crowd and the late-night Coke-and-burger runs. Natalie sat behind the wheel of her mom’s car, the cherry limeade in her cup holder barely touched.
Beside her, Sara sipped a slush and shivered. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you or not?” Sara asked.
Natalie had been stewing in silence, forcing Sara to carry the conversation, ever since the carhop had brought out their drinks. “Did you know Jon was asking Nikki to the dance?” she blurted.
Now it was Sara’s turn to be silent.
“You did, didn’t you?” Natalie accused. “Why didn’t you say something, Sara?”
“And why would I think you’d care, Nattie?” The knowing look on Sara’s face made Natalie nervous. Sara looked at her lap. “Because I knew it would hurt your feelings.”
It took Natalie a minute to process the implication of Sara’s comment. “Why would you think that?” she hedged.
“Look, Natalie, you aren’t even making sense. It’s your business if you don’t want to talk to me about your crush on Jon, but if I’m not supposed to know about it, then don’t go getting mad when I don’t report his every move to you.”
Natalie looked hard at Sara. “You knew?”
“I guessed.”
“How? Did Nicole say something to you?”
Sara shifted in her seat and turned toward Natalie. “I hate to break this to you, Nattie, but I’m your best friend. I can read you like a book. I’ve seen how you are when we’re over at my house and Jon’s around. And the way you’re always asking about his plans. Why would you give a rip
what my brother does if you
didn’t
have a thing for him?”
Natalie’s palms grew clammy, and she hoped the pinkish glow from the neon lights on the restaurant’s signs hid the warmth she felt rise to her cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”
Sara nodded. “Did Nicole know you like Jon?”
Natalie’s anger at her sister returned with a vengeance. “Yes, she knew. I told her last summer. I thought I could trust her.”
“So, she’s known all along that you like Jon?”
Natalie nodded.
“I’m sorry, but that just doesn’t sound like Nikki. She’s such a sweetheart,” Sara said.
“Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving.” Feeling strangely disloyal to the sister who had stabbed her in the back, Natalie picked up her drink and took a long slurp. “Does Jon like Nikki, Sara? Has he said anything?”
“Natalie, you are really putting me on the spot, you know?”
The last meager ounce of hope she felt dissolved. “So I take that as a yes?”
Sara nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry. He likes her a lot. I … I didn’t want to say anything because I thought this all might pass—either Jon’s crush on Nikki or your crush on him. But I don’t think it’s going to, Natalie. Sorry to be so honest, but he likes Nikki a lot.” She paused. “So … you really have it bad for him?”
Unexpectedly tears came to her eyes. “Oh, Sara. I think I love him. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve always loved him. Ever since we were kids he’s been … I don’t know. Just special, you know?”
Sara gave a smirk and held up a warning hand. “Hey, you forget the boy is my brother. I have a hard time seeing him as anything but the annoying pest he is.”
Natalie smiled through her tears and stared, unseeing, out the windshield.
A pickup roared through the Sonic drive-through, rap music blaring, jarring Natalie to the present. She picked up her cherry limeade and rattled the ice in her cup. “Sara, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I just … well, I didn’t figure I had a chance with Jon, and I didn’t want you to feel like you
had to play matchmaker or something.”
Sara shrugged. “It’s okay, Nattie. So … are you going to go with Evan?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I guess it beats sitting home on homecoming night.”
“I think you should go, Nattie. Evan Greenway is pretty cute, if you ask me.”
Natalie gave her friend a close look. “Don’t tell me
you
have a crush on him?”
“No way! You
know
who I like.”
“Oh, yeah … Brad-ley.” She singsonged the name like a playground taunt.
Sara blushed. “All right, all right. Back to the subject at hand. Are you going with Evan?”
“I guess I might as well,” she sighed. “I’ve wasted years trying to get Jon to notice me, and look where that’s gotten me. I’ve got nothing better to do.”
“And nothing to lose,” Sara pronounced with a bob of her chin. She looked at her watch and gasped. “But if you don’t get me home in five minutes flat
I’m
going to have plenty to lose—like any curfew past nine o’clock for the rest of my natural life.”
Three
T
he stadium was overflowing with a homecoming-night crowd when Cole and Daria Hunter arrived. They picked their way through the bleachers to their seats.
The evening was chilly with a brisk breeze that hinted of a bitter winter to come. Daria buttoned her jacket and tucked her arm into the crook of Cole’s elbow. He gave her arm a quick squeeze, but he was already caught up in the excitement of the game.
A roar came from the track that encircled the football field, and Daria’s attention was drawn to the high-school crowd. Despite the special section of bleachers reserved for them, the students chose to congregate on the track. It had been this way forever—at least since Daria had been a student at Bristol High herself. The teens were competing in a rowdy cheer with the fans from the opposing team, jumping up and down and yelling at the top of their lungs.