Free The Scenic Route by Devan Sipher Page A

reminded her of dried apricots, and she didn’t like dried apricots. She wanted the card to look like a rainbow. And she hoped that all the colors would cheer Austin up.
    She had made him a Valentine’s Day card the same way. But she hadn’t given it to him, so she didn’t have to worry about repeating herself.
    So far she had written only one sentence. “Austin, I am very sorry you are sad.” When Naomi was sad, she liked to lie next to her cat, Cleopatra. So she drew a picture of Cleopatra. Just Cleopatra’s head and whiskers, because Naomi wasn’t good at drawing paws.
    She wanted Austin to feel better and come back to school. She missed seeing him on the bus. She missed Mandy too. But she missed Austin more. The first time she ever saw him was at the bus stop, and she thought he was the cutest boy she had ever seen. She thought he was even cuter than Ricky Schroder. Mandy said she needed new glasses.
    But Mandy had still given her one of Austin’s school pictures. Naomi had taped it on the face of her Ken doll, and she put on a poolside wedding for Barbie and Austin/Ken. But the photo kept falling off, and Naomi was worried it was going to fall into the pool. So Naomi had taped the photo above the fireplace in her Barbie Dreamhouse. She had wished she had miniature trophies she could put next to it.
    She picked up the goldenrod crayon. She liked goldenrod, but itwas hard to see on the page. So she had to press hard. She made a capital “I.” Then color by color she wrote out, “I hope you are happy again soon. Because you are very nice and I like you very much.”
    Her mother had entered her bedroom. Naomi could hear the swish of her Donna Karan pleated pants. Naomi curled her shoulders forward, trying to shrink herself into the smallest amount of space possible so her mother wouldn’t notice her. But no matter how small Naomi tried to make herself, her mother could always see what was wrong with her.
    â€œYou can’t say that,” her mother said, picking up the card from the table. “You can’t tell a boy you like him.”
    It’s a private letter,
Naomi thought.
You can say things in private.
    â€œNaomi,” her mother said, “there are very few powers girls have over boys. But the one power every girl has is the power to keep a boy from knowing if you like him. It’s a magic power. Did you know that?” Naomi shook her head while keeping her shoulders hunched. “Do you know what happens when you give magic away?” her mother asked.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou can never get it back.”

    Naomi was pressing her nose to the window of the plane, the way she had often done as a kid. She used to look forward to watching the plane fly through the clouds, imagining what it would be like to touch them. But there were no clouds at the moment, and she was looking down at the parched mesas below. The day had started so promising, but now it seemed as arid as the desert landscape. Even the upgrade to a business-class seat wasn’t giving her any pleasure. It was going to be a long flight.
    â€œWould you like a complimentary drink?” Naomi heard the attendant ask.
    â€œThis depends on who is giving the compliment,” was the responsefrom her seatmate. There was a slight accent. Maybe Italian. Definitely a flirt.
    The flight attendant giggled. Maybe she was flirting too. Though she was probably young enough to be the man’s daughter, from the little Naomi could see of him when she turned around.
    â€œOr is there something you would like with alcohol?” the attendant asked.
    â€œThere is something I like with alcohol, but I will settle for a gin and tonic.”
    Naomi snorted unintentionally.
    â€œAre you okay?” he asked, turning his tanned and stubbled face in her direction.
    â€œAllergies,” she quickly said.
    â€œAre you allergic to flirtatious jokes?” he asked, and again the hint of