I could feel myself backsliding about Bryce. But why should I care if Shelly liked him? I shouldn’t even be thinking about him!
When I wasn’t thinking about Bryce, I was worrying about poor Jon Trulock.
He was quiet, and I felt sorry for him, having to clutch a basket and be auctioned off in front of the whole student body.
What had I done to him? But as I bounced up our drive, basket boys bounced right out of my mind.
Was that green I saw poking out of the dirt? Yes! Yes, it was! I dropped the bike and got down on my hands and knees.
They were so thin, so small, so far apart! They barely made a difference in the vastness of the black dirt, and yet there they were.
Pushing their way through to the afternoon sun. I ran in the house, calling, “Mom! Mom, there’s grass!”
“Really?” She emerged from the bathroom with her cleaning gloves and a pail. “I was wondering if it was ever going to spring up.”
“Well, it has! Come! Come and see!” She wasn’t too impressed at first.
But after I made her get down on her hands and knees and really look, she smiled and said, “They’re so delicate….”
“They look like they’re yawning, don’t they?” She cocked her head a bit and looked a little closer. “Yawning?”
“Well, more stretching, I guess. Like they’re sitting up in their little bed of dirt
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색