Those Kids from Fawn Creek: Chapters 18–26

But she got the sneaking suspicion Abby was omitting important details.

The teal complemented the gray walls, which complemented the curtains, which complemented Janie, who loved to be surrounded by well-balanced color and a clean, tidy room.

Saintlodge Middle School wasn’t exactly a thriving metropolis, but it certainly had much more to offer than Yawn Creek.

Yes, he was “all set” to go duck hunting the next morning—if “all set” meant he was dreading the entire thing like a condemned man dreads his executioner.

Images materialized on his phone.

Fishing at Fawn Creek was peaceful, almost meditative, even when Trevor was there.
They would each hold their fishing poles and escape into the silence of their thoughts.

There was a pleasant plink when you cast your line into the water, and a rush of adrenaline when something bit.

From far away, they probably looked like a typical family of strong Louisiana men. Two ideal sons with their hardworking father.

She leaned forward conspiratorially. “Is that girl here? You have to point her out to me.”

Janie bristled, then calmed herself. Why harp over some stupid comment made by an idiot?

Janie mentally pushed Ethan’s smug face aside and turned toward the concession stand.

The rumor gained so much momentum that even Greyson had started to suspect it was true.

She felt the inklings of red dread prickling her skin.

“Hi, Renni,” Orchid said, smiling tentatively.

“—and even though I don’t go to Yawn Creek anymore, you should know that I still have many vested interests at that school.”

"Okay?" Renni said, scanning Orchid from head to toe, as if appraising a piece of meat.

An insult of equal gravity? I don’t know, Renni. How much air is in your brain?

Renni pressed her lips together again, presumably because the news was so difficult for her to share, but it also looked to Janie like she wanted to laugh.

“Someone’s calling me,” Janie said, feigning surprise.

Before Renni and her minions interrupted them, Orchid had been telling a story about eating éclairs with Victor in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.

She waved her hand dismissively.

“She looks like regular Janie to me,” Dorothy said. Regular, irritating, stuck-up, snobby Janie.

Then again—maybe there was something different. Something subtle.

She kept the phone to her ear the whole time. It certainly looked like a legitimate conversation.

“What do you mean, am I okay?” Janie said, her voice laced with scorn. She crossed her arms.

Orchid is fraternizing with the enemy!

He considered himself a great actor when it came to phantom illnesses, because he operated under a set of self-imposed rules: Don’t use the sick card too often or you’ll show your hand. Don’t waste time manufacturing a fever. Make several inexplicable trips to the bathroom and spend a considerable amount of time there.

If his parents ever actually listened to him, if they cared even one iota that he didn’t want to traipse into the marsh at the break of dawn to watch his father kill ducks with a shotgun, if they had one dollop of interest in the things Greyson actually wanted to do, he wouldn’t have to lower himself to faking illnesses.

If his parents ever actually listened to him, if they cared even one iota that he didn’t want to traipse into the marsh at the break of dawn to watch his father kill ducks with a shotgun, if they had one dollop of interest in the things Greyson actually wanted to do, he wouldn’t have to lower himself to faking illnesses.

His mother telling him that he didn’t need to go hunting if he didn’t want to, then asking him if there was something else he’d rather do instead, and him telling her that he wanted to help her make the pillows so he could feel the thrum of a machine under his fingertips.

He thought specifically about this black-and-white bespoke Chanel tweed suit that Kate had once worn.

The single-subject, spiral-bound notebook had languished in the same spot since August, gathering dust, all its pages blank.

The flower promptly fell out again.

As soon as Renni and Abby realized she’d been talking to Orchid, they’d peppered her with questions. Janie had answered vaguely.

It was a small, sparse, meticulous house with earth-toned walls and muted furniture.

It was a small, sparse, meticulous house with earth-toned walls and muted furniture.

No shoes strewn near the doorway or notebooks on the coffee table.

He wished Orchid had a phone so he could send her texts of solidarity, outlining all the reasons why Renni Dean was evil and should be ignored.

The smell of dog permeated the air.

It bewildered Greyson that any girl would willingly want to be Trevor’s girlfriend, but such were the mysteries of the universe.