Lucky by Rachel Vail Read Free Book Online Page A

what. Luckily Kirstyn’s mother talked nonstop so we didn’t have to.
    She was going on and on about the party, something about how using the white tablecloths the club had standard would be fine, but maybe alternating pink and red, or doing overlays (whatever that is), would be so much cuter and why not? I looked out my window and Kirstyn looked out hers. I didn’t want to think about the tension between us. I decided to think instead about what it meant that Luke had run over when I was facedown on the track.
    We turned onto Willow Road, past the Magnolia Estates sign with its neat bed of all white flowers growing evenly beneath it, contrasting cleanly with the deep greenof the surrounding grass. Nothing messy could happen here, Daddy said when we drove past it, coming home from the airport after spring break last year. No, Mom had said, the Committee wouldn’t allow mess. They both snickered. They thought we were all asleep in the back, but I was faking.
    Kirstyn’s mom, who had apparently run out of stuff to say about the party she was planning, oh, wait, our party, started in on the neighbors. “Looks like these new people are using Lansdowne Landscapers.” We passed the first house, and she cocked her head at the pair of trucks in the driveway, then rubbed her finger against her thumb, her sign for a lot of money. “But they’re the best. Those other guys, what’s-it-called—so crappy looking. They barely trim the hedges. But I guess if you want to save your pennies, you get less service and it shows. Anyway, that’s good, Lansdowne. Maybe they’ll put in some trees or something for those poor people, all exposed to the street like that.” She clucked her tongue pityingly and looked at me in her rearview mirror. “These bald lots are so tacky, don’t you think?”
    I shrugged again. I don’t really have many opinions about landscaping. Kirstyn’s family was one of the first to move into Magnolia Estates, so their trees and hedges are the highest. Ours are way higher than the new people’s at the front end of the street, but not as high as Kirstyn’s family’s. We moved to our house four years ago. But really,what do I care about the height of hedges?
    “So nouveau,” Kirstyn’s mom continued. “Especially with all our houses now practically cheek by jowl, you know what I mean?”
    I had absolutely no idea what she meant, so I said, “Hmm.” Didn’t even slow her down.
    “Oh, look! They got the garage addition, like your family did. Smart,” Kirstyn’s mother added as we passed the new house diagonal from my own. “We only have the two-car. Ridiculous, really. They’re coming from California, three boys,” she said flirtatiously. Neither Kirstyn nor I said anything. “And I heard they’re putting in a squash court.”
    “Yeah?” I could care less about a squash court. She had slowed the car to a crawl. Just please go up my driveway, I silently begged, or let me out here.
    “I love when new people move in,” Kirstyn’s mother said.
    She and Kirstyn had come over the first day after we moved in; Kirstyn was carrying a plate of cookies and her mother had what my father described as a very nice bottle of champagne. Before that, Kirstyn had barely noticed me—back when I lived on McNealy Street and she was the princess of third grade.
    “Can you believe the Greens?” Kirstyn’s mom asked. She had practically stopped the car.
    I had no choice. “What?” I asked. Roxie Green,Allison’s new best friend, had moved here last summer, into the house Kirstyn’s mom was pointing at, across the street from ours.
    “You know they bought this house, next door to their first one. I was their broker.” She made her finger sign for mucho dinero again. “Did you know they turned this one into a giant recreation center?”
    “Yeah,” I said vaguely.
    Kirstyn hadn’t budged or said a word. I decided not to look at her, let her cool down. Everything would be fine later, it always is. What