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Authors: Katie Finn

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Friendship, #Emotions & Feelings, #Family, #Marriage & Divorce

Broken Hearts, Fences and Other Things to Mend (14 page)

BOOK: Broken Hearts, Fences and Other Things to Mend
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looked very familiar. It was Sweet & Delicious, the same place my

dad had taken me at the end of the summer, when he’d told me

how he’d hoped our future would involve the Bridges family. My

sense of direction hadn’t been good even then, so I had no idea I’d

even been on this street before. From what I could see through

the window, past the HELP WANTED sign, the décor inside looked the

same—wrought- iron tables and chairs, the same red- and- white

color scheme.

Hallie handed the girls some money, and they practically threw

themselves into the shop, causing the bell attached to the door to

ring violently. “Remember when we used to be that way?” she

asked, turning to me.

I just stared at her, trying my best to keep my expression neu-

tral, even as alarm bells starting to ring in my head. “Um,” I started,

searching her face for any kind of clues and telling myself to

calm down. She didn’t know it was me. She
didn’t
.

“Well, maybe you weren’t like that,” she said with an easy laugh.

“But when I was their age, I was a total sugar fi end.”

“Right,” I said, and I could feel myself start to relax. She had

—-1

meant “we” in the general sense, not “we” as in Hallie and Gemma.

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I really needed to stop being so paranoid. “I know what you

mean.”

“So listen,” she said, leaning in a little closer. “My brother keeps

talking about you.”

“Oh,” I said. I blinked, trying to pro cess this. It was fl attering—

that is, unless what he’d been telling Hallie was all about how I’d

landed in his lap and then groped his thigh. “Really?”

“Really,” Hallie said. She looked at me closely, her expression

growing a little more protective. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

I literally had to bite my lip to stop myself from reciting what

I was so used to saying, what I’d been saying without a second

thought for the last two years of my life—
Yes, I do. I’m dating Teddy

Callaway.
“No,” I said. The loneliness of that syllable struck me,

making me swallow hard. Even though I was no longer in Put-

nam, I was still constantly reaching for my phone to call or text

Teddy something, before I would remember that we were over.

And then I felt the loss of him— the loss of the us that we’d been

–all over again. “No,” I repeated, clearing my throat and hoping

my voice didn’t betray what I was feeling. “I just . . . got out of a

relationship, actually.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Hallie said. “Was it a bad breakup?”

I fl ashed back to the Target aisle, the shattered candle, the

piles of cookies, the inability to get out of bed for several days.

And once again, I couldn’t help but wonder exactly
what
had

caused it. I still didn’t know Teddy’s reasons for breaking up with

me, and so was left with the lingering, uncomfortable feeling that

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I hadn’t yet gotten a satisfactory explanation. “It was pretty bad,” I

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said with what I hoped was a smile and not a grimace.

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“God, breakups suck, don’t they?” she said with a roll of her

eyes, and I laughed.

“They really do,” I said. “What about you?” I hoped this sounded

casual and not like I already knew the answer to my question

because I’d Friendverse- stalked her. “Do you have a boyfriend?” I

asked as the bell above the shop door rang again, and the twins

came out, both moving more carefully than before, each with a

multiscoop cone.

“Hallie has a
boyfriend
!” one of the girls— I’d now lost track of

who was Isabella and who was Olivia— sang out, causing Hallie’s

cheeks to turn pink.

“His name is Ward,” said the other twin with great authority

as she took a bite of her cone. “And he’s away for the summer.”

“Thank you,” Hallie said, steering them to one of the open

outside tables. “And what did I tell you about listening to other

people’s private conversations?”

The girls just giggled, and Hallie turned back to me. “I do, in

case they didn’t answer your question fully.”

“That’s great,” I said, and despite knowing it from her Friend-

verse profi le, I actually wasn’t surprised. There was a feeling you

sometimes got from girls with boyfriends, a kind of calm assur-

ance, and Hallie certainly had it. I knew, because I’d once had it

too.

“Yeah,” she said, blushing a little more. “It’s new, but it’s going

pretty well so far . . . who knows?” One of the twins shrieked, and I

saw there had already been one ice cream casualty— a rainbow

scoop was now off the cone and melting on the table. “I’d better

—-1

handle this,” she said. “But listen, do you have plans to night?”

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“No,” I said immediately, and then wondered if that made me

sound too much like a friendless loser.

“Great!” Hallie said, not seeming to pick up on this, or if she

had, not seeming to mind. “Then you should come to this party.

One of Josh’s Clarence friends is throwing it. It’ll be fun! Give me

your number and I’ll text you the address.”

I rattled off my phone number, feeling a little amazed at how

easily this was all coming together. I’d expected to have to search

to fi nd Hallie, and then to have to work to get her to want to

spend time with me. I hadn’t expected to bump into her, and then

for invitations to hang out to follow this easily. But Hallie had

always been friendly, I remembered now, much better than I had

been about walking up to kids and asking if they wanted to hang

out or go get a snack.

My phone rang a moment later, and I pressed the button to

save the contact, immediately typing in
Hallie Bridges
.

“It’s Bridges—” she said, then paused and glanced down at my

phone. “But I guess you already knew that?” She looked up at me,

surprised.

“Yes,” I said quickly. “Josh told me when I, um, met him.” I

knew this was the truth— it had been the moment I practically

felt the world drop out from under my feet— but I still panicked

for a moment that I’d somehow given myself away.

“Great,” she said. “And remind me again, it’s Sophie . . . ?”

“Curtis,” I said, hoping I sounded like I’d said this name a lot,

as I watched her type my best friend’s name into her phone.

-1—

“Perfect,” she said, saving the contact. The girls shrieked again,

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and I now saw that there were two scoops down on the table.

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“Duty calls,” she said. “But I’ll see you to night!” She hurried over

to the table to try and contain the meltdowns (of twins and ice

cream) that were taking place.

I walked back to my bike, drinking my iced latte as I went,

feeling like things were falling into place. This would be good. I

would get to know Hallie better and be as helpful and nice to her

as I could during the party. I wasn’t sure how I was going to achieve

this— by bringing her snacks or something?— but I fi gured that

at the very least, it would give me an opportunity.

By the time I got back to Bruce’s, I’d felt my phone buzz with

two texts, and as I pulled it out, walking my bike up the drive-

way, I saw that they were both from Hallie.

Hallie Bridges

2:19 PM

Party to night at 88 Turtle Pond Lane. See you at

seven!

Hallie Bridges

2:35 PM

Hi you— dress code for party

is semiformal— dresses, coats, ties.

See you then!

Okay. Semiformal. I could do that. I let myself into the house,

keeping my fi ngers crossed that the last Mrs. Davidson had left

some of her clothing behind when she moved out.

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O O O

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A few hours later and a (hopefully) fashionable twenty min-

utes late, I stood on the doorstep of 88 Turtle Pond Lane.

Bruce’s last wife hadn’t left behind anything that I would have

been willing to wear in public, but luckily Gwyneth had a few

things still hanging in her closet, presumably left over from the

summer before. Gwyn and I wore the same shoe size, but I was a

good four inches taller than her, which meant that the dress I

had on was pretty short on me. But I fi gured it was better than

nothing. I hadn’t brought anything dressy with me, since I hadn’t

thought there would be a need for it. But Gwyneth— or rather,

her closet— had come through, and as I rang the bell of the house,

I glanced at my refl ection in the glass panes on the side of the

door. I had fi gured it would be better to be slightly overdressed

than underdressed. The dress was purple and one- shouldered,

fi tted and admittedly a bit shorter than the dresses I normally

wore, but I fi gured that it would be okay— it was summer, after

all. I’d also borrowed a pair of her shoes, made by a designer whose

name I’d seen in magazines but had never encountered in real

life. The shoes were beautiful, covered with hot- pink silk, and I’d

been walking carefully to try and keep them looking as pristine

as I’d found them. I’d blown out my hair and was wearing far

more makeup than usual. As I stared at my refl ection now, I de-

cided that I looked like someone who had dressed correctly for a

semiformal party.

Nobody was answering the bell, so I went to knock, and to my

surprise, the door swung open. “Hello?” I called as I took a few

-1—

steps inside, balancing carefully on Gwyneth’s heels, which were

0—

a few inches higher than I was used to.

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I didn’t see anyone, so I made my way— carefully, since the

house seemed to be decorated entirely with things that looked

like valuable antiques— into the living room and then kitchen.

As I stood and looked around this stranger’s kitchen, I suddenly

felt very aware of my party- crasher status. It hit me that I didn’t

even know the name of the person who was throwing this party.

I pulled my phone out from the black silk clutch I’d borrowed

from the former Mrs. Davidson (I had a feeling she wouldn’t mind)

and was about to text Hallie and see where she was, when I heard

voices and music coming from the back of the house.

I realized that the party was probably in the backyard, and

rolled my eyes at myself for not thinking of that sooner. I

walked through the kitchen to the side door that was half ajar,

smoothed down my skirt, and stepped out onto the patio.

I felt the smile freeze on my face.

There were probably twenty people there, but everyone was in

bathing suits, and most people were either in the pool or stand-

ing around it.

I realized, to my horror, that I was in a formal dress. And this

was a pool party.

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CHAPTER 8

I stood there, rooted to the spot, realizing that people were

slowly becoming aware of me, the bizarrely overdressed girl

lurking by the edge of the pool. They probably thought I’d gotten

lost on my way to the prom. I began to back away slowly. I hadn’t

seen Hallie or Josh yet, and I could just make my escape now and

just pretend that I’d misplaced the address, or gotten a sudden

case of rickets, or something.

“Sophie?” I turned and saw Josh pushing himself up and out

of the pool, and my wardrobe mistakes were temporarily forgot-

ten as I took in the sight of him, dripping wet in just his swim

trunks. Dear lord.

“Hi,” I said, trying to force myself to look at his face and not

his abs, but it was a struggle. I saw now that Sophie and I had

been right; the boys on the lacrosse team were every bit as hot as

we imagined them to be. Josh’s shoulders were broad, his arms

-1—

were muscular, and he was already golden and tan, even though

0—

it was just the beginning of the summer. His surfer- style swim

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trunks were sitting low on his hips, and it was like his stomach

muscles had each been painted on. Since Teddy hadn’t believed

BOOK: Broken Hearts, Fences and Other Things to Mend
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