Almost Perfect - Brian Katcher [23]
She grinned when she saw me ride up. As soon as I parked my bike, she enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug.
“I missed you,” she said, still embracing me. Her arms wrapped completely around my back and her chin rested on top of my skull.
I didn’t answer. I figured if I said anything, she’d release me.
Eventually, she let me go. I contemplated kissing her cheek or gently touching the back of her neck. Something to bust me out of this impossible neutral situation I found myself in. But Sage had bent down and was picking something up off the ground.
“Here.” She handed me a large convenience store bag filled with plastic-wrapped sandwiches, mini bags of chips, and some bottled fruit juice.
“Now, where should we eat, Logan?”
I was rummaging through the bag. Sage had bought four different types of sandwiches, and I didn’t like any of them. But we’d known each other less than a month, after all. Why did I have such a hard time remembering that?
“We could go to the park.”
Sage pulled one of her curls, then let it boing back into place like a spring. “Uh, maybe we could go somewhere a little more … you know, isolated?”
That got my heart pounding until I realized she was referring to her dating ban. She didn’t want us to be seen eating together. Why? Brenda’s parents had liked me. When she’d gotten her license, they’d allowed us to go out alone together.
But Sage’s parents … She couldn’t even sit in a public park with me! What did they think would happen?
Mrs. Hendricks, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I just saw your daughter eating a ham and cheese sandwich with a boy. Right out on the playground, where anyone could see them! I don’t know how they do things in Joplin, but we have rules in this town.
Well, at least Sage was willing to eat in secret with me, which was something. I remembered an isolated place where Jack, Tim, and I used to set off fireworks. “There’s the old Arborville Road Cemetery. Are you up for a walk?”
It was a glorious cold, late-autumn afternoon. The sky was a deep, cloudless blue. Flocks of geese honked their way from horizon to horizon, off to Texas or Mexico or wherever. You could feel the bite of the coming winter in your ears and lungs. It was the sort of day that made you want to run outside, take a deep breath, and then go back in and watch TV all day.
Sage literally skipped as we made our way down County Road 1124. She seemed inclined to stop and inspect every rock, blade of grass, and shattered whiskey bottle beside the road.
“This is so neat!” she said, laughing. “Back in Joplin, you had to drive everywhere. You couldn’t go twenty feet without passing a Burger King.”
I thought that actually sounded kind of nice. “Watch out for hypodermic needles,” I warned.
Sage stopped prancing around and started walking next to me. “So, did you have a good Thanksgiving?”
“Yeah. My sister was in town.”
“She goes to Mizzou, doesn’t she?”
Hmm. Sage had actually been paying attention when I’d mentioned Laura. With Brenda, I’d sometimes gotten the impression she listened to me just to be polite.
“Yeah, she’s a freshman.”
“I bet that’s hard on your parents, her moving out and all.”
“Um, I guess I never told you. I don’t have a father.”
Sage froze. “I’m sorry, Logan. I didn’t know. When did he pass away?”
She was looking at me with such gentle compassion that I didn’t want to tell the truth. “He actually ran away. I never really knew him.”
Divorce was part of life in Boyer. Half of everyone’s parents were divorced, and the other half had never been married in the first place. But Sage didn’t look any less sorrowful than when she’d thought my father was dead. For a moment I thought she was going to hug me again, but instead she offered me her arm. I slipped my hand over her elbow, and we began walking. I wanted to wrap my arm around her waist. I wanted to tell her she was