Holden Peters expects nothing exciting to happen during the summer before his final year of high school. But in a spontaneous act of bravery, he saves his pretty next door neighbour from drowning and is deemed as a local hero.
Thanks to his newfound...
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Flora Jefferson was an under-appreciated form of beauty.
During the summer before graduation, she moved in next door. From the front porch, I watched as she cut through the yard of the neighbouring house. Her entire face was covered as she hauled a large box across the lawn. Only the top of her head was visible, showcasing a bird's nest of dark hair and a thick flower crown woven into her curls.
"She's in the year below us," Tess said. She was lying on her stomach, earphones in, but she pulled them out to join the conversation and our overly-creepy staring at the new neighbour.
"Kind of hot," Quinton said, nodding in appreciation. "Well, from this distance anyways. Maybe she's really ugly up close."
Tess punched him. "Don't be rude."
He cringed, rubbing his forearm. "Jesus Christ. Peters, did you see what she just did? Now I've got to get my bloody arm amputated. You know I bruise like a peach."
I didn't say anything. I just redirected my attention back to the girl as she made her way across the lawn barefoot. She had to pause for a moment and hoist the box higher into her arms, the impressive collection of hair elastics and braided ties around her arms fluid with her movements. As she reached the open front door, the sunlight fell against her pale, slender shoulders and reflected the blinding flash of her silver tattoos.
"I think Holden likes what he sees." Quinton smirked. I flipped him the finger.
Tess placed her chin in her upraised palms. "I rate her... a nine."
"Where's she from, again?"
"The coast," Tess answered, pinching the straw in her drink and taking a sip.
"Man." Quinton whistled. "You're such a stalker. How do you know all this crap?"
"A girl has her resources."
"In other words, she actually pays attention to my dad at dinner," I corrected.
"Hey!" She sat up and leaned back on her heels. "Richard happens to be a very interesting person if you actually listened to what he says half the time."
At that moment, Beth walked out the front with a tray of snacks and some green cordial. I straightened to see what she had brought, but to my disappointment, it was just fairy bread; Tess' favourite. I kept reminding Beth that all three of us were seventeen now and were in dire need of more 'mature' snacks, rather than pre-schooler party food.
"Yay." Quinton didn't restrain from expressing his sarcasm. "That sure looks appetising."
Tess, who was like a seven year old in a seventeen year old's body, picked up a triangular piece--with the crusts taken off--and took a bite. "What is wrong with fairy bread? It's white bread with butter and sprinkles. Who doesn't think it's appetising?"
