Marianne Elizabeth Hammer (top young adult novels TXT) 📖

He looked around for somewhere to write, but the top of the wall was too rough for anything to be legible. Marianne bit her lip and gestured silently to her patio. Patrick hesitated for a second and then climbed up on the doghouse. She stepped back so he could jump the wall. He landed with a gentle clack on the concrete. Like a gazelle. Sad, internal whimper.

He crouched down and wrote, “You were first.” His writing was in all caps. Marianne wondered if that was usual for him or not. Patrick looked up at her, and she shook her head. “Are you tricking me?” he wrote.

Marianne smiled and knelt down on the patio. She held out her hand for the chalk and wrote, “I’m not that evil.”

He took the chalk back. “You are tricking me.” He underlined the “are.”

She crossed out his last line and wrote, “Your tricking ME.”

Patrick corrected her English with an apostrophe and an E. “Burn,” he wrote.

Marianne grimaced dramatically and took the chalk. “Facial Disgracial.”

Patrick sat down cross-legged on the cement and shrugged.

“You were first,” she wrote. “Promise.” She crossed her heart with her finger.

“Okay,” said Patrick out loud. “I’m talking now.” He looked scared.

She nodded.

“Wow. You really weren’t tricking me. I guess you’re not evil, after all.”

Marianne glared at him.

“Whoa,” he said. “I was going to free you, but I think I’ll wait till you calm down a bit. I don’t want to get yelled at.”

Marianne snatched up the chalk. “I hereby kick you out of my backyard.”

“What?” Patrick shook his head at her words. “I can’t read that, your writing is too messy.” She chucked the chalk at his leg, but he caught it before it hit. He looked at her meaningfully and said her name. “Marianne.”

She grabbed her throat and coughed. “Thank you,” she said in a raspy voice.

“Any time.” He was smiling at her the way he’d done back on Nana’s porch, that inscrutable way she had no idea what to do with. People weren’t supposed to look each other in the eyes that long. They were sitting pretty close together, too, which made it worse.

Marianne looked away and brought her hair forward over her shoulder. “I thought you were terrified that I would yell at you.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “I thought I’d be merciful. Try to get on your good side.”

Again with the eye contact. Marianne readjusted her position from her knees to sit down. “I don’t have a good side.”

“I know. You hate me. And it’s totally unfair, too...” He leaned back against the wall of her brown stucco house and gestured toward himself. “Because I’m an awesome person.”

Marianne laughed. “I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “you do.”

“No.” Marianne tried to seem really cute. “I just don’t like you very much. There’s a difference.”

“That is so unfair,” he said. “Last week—”

Marianne raised her hand to cut him off. “Do not mention last week.”

He shook his head. “You are so weird.”

“I said, don’t mention last week.” Marianne could feel her face getting hot already.

Patrick put one knee up and rested his arm on it. “You really do have the most fascinating reactions. Someone should do a documentary on you.”

Marianne didn’t know if she should be flattered or offended. She decided to be flattered on the inside and offended on the outside. Always a safe way to go. “Are you trying to make me cry?” She pointed threateningly at her eyes. “‘Cause I will.”

“See that, right there...” He looked at her sideways, like he was examining a bug. “You’re so open, and yet not. I cannot figure you out. I can never tell when you’re serious, or just being shy—”

Marianne picked up a handy twig and threw it at him. “Stop studying me.”

“But you’re interesting.”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t like being interesting.”

“Got that part,” said Patrick. “Better get used to it.”

Marianne lifted up her chin. “Death first.”

Patrick laughed and looked away across the yard.

“What?” she said.

“Death first,” he imitated. “Who says that?”

Marianne laughed. “Shut up.”

Just then, Danielle’s back door opened, and she shouted, “Patrick?”

“Yeah,” he said, without getting up. “I’m over here at Marianne’s.”

“Oh,” said Danielle quickly. “Um, never mind.” She closed the door.

Marianne looked back at Patrick. He didn’t seem the least bit curious about why Danielle had wanted him. Something was funky here. Marianne was sure that Danielle was match-making, and that Patrick knew it. What she didn’t know was how he felt about it. Only one way to find out.

She dusted the chalk off her hands and started to get up. “Do you need to go?”

He shook his head and pointed at her. “Speaking of death...” he said, not moving from his spot.

He wanted to stay. Marianne sat back down on her heels, hoping her face didn’t show how agitated she felt. “Speaking of death?”

“Yeah. What’s with you trying to poison Nana?”

“What?” laughed Marianne. “Is that what she told you in your super-private talk?”

He nodded. “Oh, yes. She filled me in on all your underhanded activities. Really, Marianne, trying to plant those new pills in with her daily meds? That’s just sick.”

Marianne blinked. Ah yes, the new vitamins she’d added last week. What a drama queen. “Well… and here I thought I was being so sneaky.”

“She doesn’t want your quack remedies. And, don’t repeat this last part because she told me in confidence, but,” he leaned toward her and whispered, “she’s planning on living forever. She’s taken steps to ensure it.”

Mayday, mayday, mayday—he was totally in her airspace. She didn’t want to lean back, but she couldn’t make any words come out with him that close. She readjusted her position, trying to be nonchalant. When she did speak, her voice sounded all sappy and breathy. “Bummer. All that wasted effort.” Oh, and don’t forget her little schoolgirl flick of the hair behind the ear. Smooth. It was getting darker now, though. Hopefully, he didn’t see.

Patrick smiled and picked up the twig she had thrown at him. He started breaking it into pieces. “You’ll have to think up some