to face the questioner, who was sitting on the fence nearest the old Perkins place, dangling bare brown legs.
The person had jaggedy brown hair cut close to its face
and wore one of these blue undershirt-like tops with faded jeans cut off above the knees.
He couldn’t honestly tell whether it was a girl or a boy.
“Hi,” he or she said, jerking his or her head toward the Perkins place. “We just moved in.”
Jess stood where he was, staring. The person slid off the fence and came toward him.
“I thought we might as well be friends,” it said. “There’s no one else close by.”
Girl, he decided. Definitely a girl, but he couldn’t have said why he was suddenly sure.
She was about his height—not quite though, he was pleased to realize as she came nearer.
“My name’s Leslie Burke.” She even had one of those dumb names that could go either way,
but he was sure now that he was right. “What’s the matter?” “Huh?” “Is something the matter?”
“Yeah. No.” He pointed his thumb in the direction of his own house, and then wiped his hair off his forehead.
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