The Ranch She Left Behind

Free The Ranch She Left Behind by Kathleen O`Brien

Book: The Ranch She Left Behind by Kathleen O`Brien Read Free Book Online
Authors: Kathleen O`Brien
her mom had left her, which were very sophisticated. And real, which was important. Stephanie said only losers wore jewelry that wasn’t real.
    But no one had texted back. Not even Becky, who had always been on the fringes of their group because Stephanie didn’t like her. Stephanie said Becky was greasy from eating too much fast food. Probably, though, Becky would be allowed on the inside now.
    Now that Ellen was gone, and a place had opened up.
    The wind rose, tickling her hair into her face, and her eyes stung even worse. She swallowed three times, trying to loosen that tight feeling in her throat, and then clicked on her Facebook app. Maybe she should just post the picture there, so everyone could see.
    But Facebook made her feel worse. Her news feed was full of pictures Stephanie and the gang had just taken at the mall, where they’d gone to see a movie. “Less than a minute ago” they’d been horsing around at the Organic Highway counter at the food court. Laughing, throwing stuff at each other, making funny faces.
    And, look at that shot! Becky stood so close to Gregory Parr the whole world could see she had a crush on him.
    Well, Gregory Parr was the cutest guy in school. Ellen had a graph in her diary tracking how long it would take her to lose fifteen pounds, and what she’d do then to make Greg notice her.
    Except for Stephanie, who had been held back in first grade and was older than the rest of them, no one in their group had a boyfriend. Not outright. But everyone knew who liked who, and everybody knew you didn’t go after the boys your friends had chosen.
    But here was Becky, clearly trying to call dibs on Gregory. Ellen’s fury rose. If greasy Becky Fife thought she could just move in and take over every single part of Ellen’s life…her guy, her friends…
    Ellen could imagine her dad’s reaction. “Could they really have been friends if they have forgotten about you in a week?”
    Could Dad really be that clueless?
    Of course they were going to forget her. They hung out together every day, and when you were gone, you were gone. You could hardly expect them to sit around for nine months waiting for you to come back.
    Her tears had begun to fall. She reached up and ripped off her left earring angrily. They were only hooked over the edge of her ear, anyhow, because her ears weren’t pierced.
    Thanks for that, too, Dad.
    She yanked the second one, and the filigreed hoop went flying out of her hand into the tall grass around her.
    “Oh, my God. No!” She got on all fours and tried to comb the grass, praying to see the winking gold. “No!”
    A sudden rustling in the tree overhead startled her. She felt a spasm of fear and froze in place. No bird could possibly be that big. Not even an eagle. Well, maybe an eagle. What did she know about eagles?
    She sniffed, trying to keep her nose from running. She hated hick places like this. It could be anything up there. A snake, or a cougar, or…
    “What’s the matter? What are you looking for?”
    And abruptly, there he was. A boy, draped over the lowest big branch like the Cheshire cat, his skinny blue jeans and sneakers dangling, his grin and upturned eyes laughing at her.
    Suddenly, she was madder than ever. He must have been in the tree the whole time. He’d probably been watching her when she took the picture of herself. Pictures. She’d taken fifteen different shots, trying for one that looked perfect.
    She blushed furiously, thinking how she’d smirked at herself in the camera, trying to look happy and cute.
    “Who are you?” She lifted onto her knees, fists on her hips. “That’s pretty rude, to spy on people.”
    “Hey, now.” The boy swung himself down like a monkey and plopped onto the grass a couple of feet away. “I wasn’t spying. I was sleeping, and when I woke up, you were there, acting weird. I didn’t say anything because I was waiting for you to go away. It’s my tree, after all.”
    “It can’t be your tree. This is a

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