Peaches with Bonus Material

by Jodi Lynn Anderson

  Leeda had explained to the girls that there were actually four lounges, the Magnolia, the Jasmine, the Bougainvillea, and the Rose. Murphy had thought it was hilarious that they were called lounges and had said she had drunk too much water and that she had to lounge right then and could they please excuse her.

  They finished with the Rose, which they’d chosen to be last because it was the most remote, in the back of the fitness hall. By that point the fish had started to melt already and was giving off a slight odor.

  They chose to crawl over the fence back into the orchard a few minutes later. Birdie and Murphy had to hold the old barbed wire open for Leeda to crawl through slowly. Once they were across the property line, Birdie jumped up and down a few times, giddy and breathless. She couldn’t believe they’d done it.

  “I wish we could see his face,” Murphy said, also moving around restlessly. It was just dusk, and it gave the whole event a surreal glow.

  “You two stink,” Leeda said, holding her hand over her nose and then yanking it away. “So do I.”

  “You guys are going home tonight?”

  Murphy and Leeda looked at each other. One more night wouldn’t hurt.

  “I guess not,” Murphy said, waggling both of her hands in the air. “How about the lake?”

  One last time. Birdie didn’t say it, but she knew that was what they were all thinking. They could pretend it was just another night.

  Up ahead of them Murphy had begun stripping off her clothes, and suddenly she was down to nothing.

  “Murphy, please put your clothes on,” Leeda called ahead. “Nobody wants to see that.”

  Once she reached the edge of the lake, Murphy looked at them over her shoulder. “I love this lake. I plan to honor it this last time by swimming in it naked.”

  Leeda and Birdie exchanged looks, turning when they heard the splash of Murphy jumping in.

  Leeda had been skinny-dipping before at a couple of parties, but only when she’d had a bunch of drinks. Somehow swimming naked with just girls seemed more intimate. But she stripped off her tank top anyway, and then her bra.

  Naked, she toyed with the idea of dipping her toes in first.

  “Oh, what the hell.” She dove, the water blanketing her softly. It felt like bathwater. When she surfaced beside Murphy, Birdie was standing on the shore, looking nervous.

  “C’mon, Bird.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Okay, fine, just don’t look.”

  Leeda and Murphy giggled but treaded water, turning their backs.

  There was a swish swish zip and then a splash as Birdie too got into the water.

  Leeda swam on her back. They gathered and splashed around for a while, talking in low voices as it got darker.

  “It’s night,” Murphy whispered, looking up. Sure enough, a couple of stars were peeping out above them and the crickets had started in singing without anyone noticing. “Can you smell peaches?”

  They were far away from the trees, but Leeda sniffed the air, thinking she did too.

  “I smell peaches in my sleep,” Birdie offered.

  Leeda sank onto her back and backstroked away, then rested her arms and let herself float out into the middle of the lake. She couldn’t remember anything feeling more gorgeous. And maybe it was partly because this was the last of it, and it would never happen this way again.

  Splash. Leeda righted herself. Murphy had climbed out of the water and, without any self-consciousness whatsoever, was skirting the lake to a high rock on one side. She went in with a splash, disappearing underwater for several seconds. And then Birdie let out a whoop and went plunging under.

  When they surfaced, they were both spitting water and laughing. Leeda was struck by just how stunning her friends were. They looked like mermaids, treading water and splashing around.

  Murphy climbed onto shore again, her skin glowing.

  And then she stopped. “Oh.” She stood stock-still for a second, then threw her hands over her breasts and her crotch, walking backward. “Hi.”

  Leeda paddled up to the side of the lake, where a figure had emerged. She felt her heart sink into her abdomen. “Rex?”

  Rex was looking at the grass at his feet very carefully. He glanced up again at Murphy.

  “Rex!” Leeda cried, her voice cracking with jealousy. “Turn around.”

  Rex obeyed, and Leeda and Birdie scrabbled out of the water. All three girls yanked on their clothes.

  “I thought I’d find you guys here,” Rex explained when they let him turn back around. “I saw your stuff back at the dorm.”

  “I bet you say that to all the naked women,” Murphy said, like she was trying to sound casual. She didn’t sound casual at all.

  “I seem to be seeing a lot of you lately,” Rex replied.

  Leeda didn’t laugh. She felt like a statue. Paralyzed.

  Rex kept staring at Murphy. And frowning. And still staring. And Leeda felt all the blood drain out of her feet. Because his eyes weren’t heavy lidded right then, like they always were with her—heavy lidded and sleepy and kind and reassuring. They were wide open and unguarded. And all over Murphy.

  Tweet tweet tweet.

  Murphy sat up in bed and looked at the window. It was only barely light, but there was her little friend, sitting on one of the branches of his tree and staring at her with his beady eyes.

  She closed her window, then fell back in bed and pulled her pillow over her head. But it was too late. She was already awake and too fully aware of the day. And the night before.

  She rolled out of bed and pulled her boxers on over her bikini underwear, her curly hair so heavy on the side she hadn’t slept on that she felt her head might flop in that direction. She pulled it into an elastic so that it lay in a lopsided bun at the nape of her neck and shuffled into the hall.

  Birdie had gone to sleep in the newly vacated bedroom at the end of the hall the night before. But Murphy could see now that the door was open and the bed was empty. She slid her slippered feet up to Leeda’s closed door and tapped on it gently, scratching it with her fingers. “Leeda,” she whispered. “Lee?” Nobody answered.

  Murphy sighed. She wanted to see Leeda, to reassure herself that they were still good. She’d been so quiet on the way back from the lake. Murphy knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, but the moment with Rex had been palpably tense. She felt like Leeda might have somehow seen into the deepest, darkest part of her heart and seen that Rex was there. She just needed to know that wasn’t true. But she guessed she’d have to wait for her to wake up first. The old Murphy would have pounded on the door anyway. But this one shuffled back into her room.

  Without bothering to change, Murphy slipped into her Dr. Scholl’s sandals and walked outside, turning left to go visit her blue jay. He stared at her from his branch, a wriggling worm stuck under his skinny black foot.

  “Look,” Murphy said, “I know this should be where I tell you that all those times you annoyed me, you were actually growing on me, and that I’m really going to miss you.”

  The blue jay tilted its head as if it could actually understand her.

  “But it’s not going to happen. I actually just came by to say that I hope the winter takes you.”

  Murphy turned and started back around to the other side of the dorm, toward the garden. She was fully aware she was moping along like somebody with an extreme hangover. She was also aware that it was sort of an act, for her own sake. It felt good to walk like she felt.

  At the edge of the clearing she surveyed her work, looking at it with a fresh eye. It really was stunning. The yellow roses were in full bloom and majestic. The azaleas were vibrant and healthy.

  Murphy took a deep breath of satisfaction and ducked under the trellis, then came to a stop.

  There was Rex, kneeling in front of a wooden bench that sat back against one of the rosebushes. He was looking up at her, surprised.

  “Hey,” Murphy whispered.

  “Hey.” Rex stood up. “I thought you’d be sleeping. I
wanted to just leave it here.”

  Murphy swallowed, then looked behind him at the bench. She didn’t want to look at his eyes. “You know that’s a terrible place for that. Right up against the prickers.”

  Instead of coming back with some remark the way Murphy expected, Rex’s eyebrows descended. “Oh yeah.” He tapped his forehead.

  “I’ll help you move it,” she offered, walking up to one side of the bench and lifting it. “How about under the cherry tree?”

  Rex nodded, lifting his end, and they moved it the few feet and put it down. Then stood back.

  “Wow. Thanks, Rex. That’s…really cool. Did you make it?”

  Rex nodded. “No problem. It was supposed to be a surprise. I finished it a couple of days ago.”

  “It is a surprise.”

  “I actually thought about not bringing it after the weirdness…last night….”

  Murphy didn’t want to acknowledge last night. She clicked her sandals back and forth against her feet.

  “You get any fruit off that nectarine tree?” Rex asked finally, covering up.

  Murphy shrugged. “Nope. The damn bugs. I haven’t gotten one nectarine.”

  Rex laughed. It hurt Murphy to hear his laugh come so easy when she felt so tense. He was always so easy. He was the only guy she’d ever known who acted like she thought a guy should be.

  Rex scanned the tree up and down. “Well, there’s that one up top.”

  Murphy was about to tell him he was full of it when she caught sight of it too. “Oh my God, you’re right.”

  She and Rex looked at each other, and Murphy’s smile grew huge. “I grew a beautiful nectarine.”

  “The tree had nothing to do with it.”

  “Nothing.”

  Rex walked up to the tree and hoisted himself, reaching for the nectarine with a leap.

  “Here you go,” he said, tossing it at her. Murphy caught it against her stomach. It was completely perfect, not one bug. She rubbed the fruit against her shirt, then took a bite.

  “Thanks, Rex.”

  “Yeah.”

  But Murphy could hardly chew.

  “Is it bad?” Rex asked, looking concerned.

  She shook her head. “No…”

  Rex stepped up close to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Don’t look so freaked out.”

  She blinked at him several times, then twisted her lips toward the shelter of a sarcastic grin. But the grin hadn’t made it all the way onto her face before Rex reached out and put his hands against her shoulders. Murphy’s heart leapt into her throat. In another moment his lips pressed into hers, forcing the smile away completely, fitting like the nectarine had, like the ripest softest sweetest thing in the world. His tongue found its way inside her mouth, pressing against her nectarine-covered tongue. And then he pulled away. She realized his hand was on the back of her hair, and he kept it there, stroking her. The way he looked at her was thoughtful, gauging. Not excited or passionate, but like a friend’s gaze, trying to figure her out.

  She let herself feel his fingers there for a moment, overwhelmed with joy.

  And then the thought of Leeda hit her like a hammer. And all of the joy was replaced by ugly, heavy dread. She nodded forward and pulled out of Rex’s grasp.

  They stared at each other. Murphy had the feeling of being in a dream and out of control, the kind where you woke up and hoped you hadn’t just done what you thought you had. But Rex was real, standing in front of her. He looked exhausted, his eyes directly staring into hers, unashamed.

  “Leeda’s my friend,” Murphy said low.

  Rex was silent. It was all the fuel she needed. She felt her anger drumming up so that it almost felt like it was real and that it was really him she was mad at. She met his gaze with all the disgust she could muster.

  “M-Murphy,” he stammered. “I’ll tell her. Leeda and I shouldn’t even be…”

  Murphy squinted at him as if she had no idea what he was saying. Like the whole moment was a foreign concept to her. She shook her head. “I don’t even like you.”

  “Murphy…we have this…thing….”

  “Thing?” Murphy searched the sky, faking astonishment, disgusted with her own insincerity. “You’re crazy.”

  When she looked back down, Rex’s confidence had flickered. She could see it in his eyes. Murphy felt her own hurt was too naked, and she looked away, and her eyes lit on the house. A movement drew her eyes to Birdie’s window.

  A silhouette—Birdie’s silhouette—stood there for a moment, the shadow hand flying up to the shadow mouth. The whole figure swayed slightly and then slid to the left, vanishing out of sight. Murphy felt the blood drain out of her face and a sick thudding in her abdomen.

  Rex reached toward her waist, touching it gently. It felt like a lifeline to her. “I want to be with you.”

  Murphy pulled back and glared at him. She was panicked now, her head spinning. She tried to harness the misery she felt and direct it toward him. Her voice came out strangled and hateful. “I don’t want you. Don’t you get it?”

  Rex finally took a step back, and this broke Murphy’s heart. He looked at the house, then back at her, confused and dazed. He shook his head, grinning ruefully, painfully. “I’m an idiot. God, I’m sorry.”

  Murphy felt tears springing to the edges of her eyes. She balled her fists, twisted them in her T-shirt, and croaked, “Leave me alone.”

  Rex nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He turned and walked down the trail.

  Murphy looked up at Birdie’s window desperately, but her silhouette didn’t show up again. Murphy ran her hand hard through her frazzled hair. She could still see Rex walking down the path, not looking back.

  In helpless rage she hurled her nectarine at his heels, but it missed, bouncing along the ground and disappearing into the underbrush.

  Honey Babe and Majestic met Murphy halfway down the stairs, jumping at her legs and licking her hands as she bent down to pet them.

  “Birdie?”

  She could hear VH1 burbling softly out of Birdie’s room but no other sound.

  “Tweety Bird?”

  She’d already been back to the dorms to splash her face and calm down enough to talk to Birdie. When she’d gotten there, she’d seen that Leeda’s door was open, and the thudding inside had gotten worse. Walking over to the house, she felt like she had a fever. She kept on sending up one thought. Please don’t let her tell Leeda. Please please please.

  Now the rag rug on the landing slid slightly under her feet and Murphy pushed it back, swallowing. She padded to Birdie’s door and looked inside, feeling her skin start to prickle all over, hot and cold. There were Birdie and Leeda, sitting on the bed facing each other, one of each girl’s legs hanging off the side of the bed, the other tucked up under them.

  They both stared at Murphy. Birdie, with a half-open mouth and big, unsure eyes. Leeda’s eyes were red around the edges and ice cold. Murphy felt both looks like a slap.

  “Hey, guys…” she murmured.

  “Hey, Murphy,” Birdie muttered, picking at her quilt.

  “Uh, what are you…what are you guys doing?”

  Murphy slid around the edge of the door and leaned against Birdie’s wall.

  Birdie’s eyes darted to Leeda. Murphy felt a wave of nausea. “We’re just…watching TV.”

  “Oh.” Without meaning to, Murphy looked down at her shirt, noticing how much cleavage was poking out of her tank top.

  Suddenly Leeda stood up. “Well, see you, Birdie.” Without looking at Murphy, Leeda started toward the door. Murphy felt herself wince, and tried to iron her face into a cooler expression. But Leeda seemed to have the monopoly on iciness. She breezed right by Murphy into the doorway.

  “Leeda, wait…” Murphy said, reaching her hand toward Leeda’s waist. Leeda jerked away, fast as a rattlesnake.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Murphy’s mouth dropped open. For the first time in her life she was speechle
ss. Her heart began to thud in her ears, her toes. That was where Leeda’s words hit her. They hit her everywhere.

  Leeda looked wounded too for a moment, and Murphy swallowed, trying to regain her composure enough to string a few words together. She wanted to deny it had happened at all, which would have been the way she used to do things; a few months ago she could have slid out of anything, usually by turning it on the person who’d accused her. But this was too important to lie about.

  “Leeda, I didn’t kiss—”

  She’d been about to say she hadn’t kissed Rex back, but Leeda cut her off.

  “It’s actually sad that you have to do so much for attention. Rex said you were all show.”

  Rabbit punch. Murphy hadn’t seen it coming.

  “Do you think it’s all that hard to turn a guy on? Anybody could dress like you, and walk like you, and get a guy’s attention eventually. You walk like you’re easy. Any girl could do that. I could do that. Guys are easy, Murphy.”

  Leeda glared at Murphy. Murphy had seen jealousy a million times before in other girls, but jealousy was only part of Leeda’s look right now. The other part was Leeda’s mother’s look—disgusted, bored, condescending. It made Murphy back up against the wall harder. “But I didn’t mean…I tried not to give him the…”

  Leeda rolled her eyes and waved one palm in the air like she was brushing away a fly. “Please. Even Birdie noticed the way you were flirting with him at the engagement party, didn’t you, Birdie?”

  Murphy looked, flabbergasted, at Birdie, who sat on the bed giving them the fish eye and looking like she might pass out. Murphy tried to see herself through Birdie’s eyes, and she could see how wrong the vision was—Leeda the wronged saint and Murphy the painted floozy—and it twisted her. She fought back the tears that rose up now because she felt like everything good was crashing around her.

  “I thought you were my friend.” Leeda’s voice cracked, but her eyes stayed cool.

  Murphy tried to keep her voice calm. It was a break in Leeda’s armor, and a wave of relief washed over Murphy. It was a million times better for Leeda to look at her like she was a human being and not an insect.