Free In Every Way by Amy Sparling Page B

to yet another person, Maddie mulls it over, making this long “hmm” sound into the phone.
    “Maybe she has a boyfriend,” she says.
    I groan. “So it’s that bad? She reacted like someone who’s already taken?”
    “Maybe not. But it is weird that this girl wasn’t all over you, like just about every other girl would be. I mean, you’re not as cute as Colby,” she says and Colby whoops in the background, “But you’re cute. If you’re being nice and friendly, it should attract any normal girl to you.”
    “Maybe she’s not normal,” I say, desperate to get the blame off me. I can’t stand the idea that I’m not good enough for her. If she has a boyfriend, then I can wait until she’s single again.
    But if she just doesn’t like me . . . I can’t do much about that.
    “I think you should give it one last shot,” Maddie says after discussing it with Colby as if I’m not here on the phone able to hear everything they say. “If she truly isn’t interested in you, you’ll know by the second try. If she is, then you’ll also know.”
    “Okay, thanks,” I say, glancing up when my sister walks into the room. “That’s good advice.”
    “Of course it is,” Maddie says, a smile in her voice. “See ya later.”
    “Bye.”
    I’m smiling when I hang up the phone. This whole thing had felt hopeless a few minutes ago, but now I’m a little inspired. I shouldn’t let Bess go so easily. I should at least give it one more shot, and if she so clearly blows me off again, then I’ll know. I’ll suck it up and admit that the beautiful girl on the beach wants nothing to do with me.
    “You look weird,” Abigail says, reminding me she’s still in the room.
    “Who let you out of your cage?” I say, in a pathetic attempt at an insult. I’m really off my game today because I can’t stop thinking about the girl in the hot pink shirt.
    “Are you going to work?” she asks, ignoring my jab as if she were the older sibling and not me. Now that I actually look over at her, I see that she’s dressed in shorts and a Flying Mermaid shirt instead of her pajamas. Her purse is slung over her shoulder.
    “Yeah, in a minute. Why?”
    “I wanna come.”
    I roll my eyes. “Fine, get in the truck.”
    She lets out a little squeal of excitement and rushes past me, through the kitchen, and out to the garage.
    I roll my eyes. Abigail is thirteen, which means sometimes she’s a raging brat that I want to strangle, and other times she’s just a normal person I don’t mind being around. Today looks like it’ll be a normal day. That calls for a celebration I think, as I pour my coffee into a thermos. I reach into the fridge and grab a can of spray whipped cream, tilting it over the thermos and spraying some inside on top of my coffee. I usually drink it black, not because I like the taste, but because I’m too lazy to bother. But whipped cream definitely makes it better.
    I screw the cap on and head out to my truck, where Abigail has already started the engine and is rocking out to some pop song from the passenger seat.
    “Not happening,” I say as I climb into the driver’s seat. Immediately, I shut off that crap she’s listening to and put it on a rock station. “Passenger doesn’t pick the music.”
    “But I love Selena Gomez.”
    “Not in a million years,” I say. She crosses her arms and slumps into her seat, the angry little sister scowl she’s so great at appearing on her face.
    We’re halfway to the beach when my sister stops playing on her phone and looks over at me. “So who’s the girl?”
    “What girl?”
    “The one you were telling Colby about.”
    I stiffen, my eyes on the road. “How much of that did you hear, you little snooper?”
    “I wasn’t snooping,” she says, making this annoyed eye roll. “And I only heard a little bit. So who is it?”
    “None of your business.”
    “What’s her name?”
    “Not telling you.”
    She groans. “Well, I hope she’s not a bitch like