Child of His Heart by Joan Kilby

Author:Joan Kilby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2001-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

MIRANDA GLANCED AT her red-and-black Swatch and slammed the math textbook shut. “Gotta go, dude,” she said, rolling off Oliver’s bed.

Oliver glanced up from his computer. “Already? We haven’t even looked at integers.”

“I have to meet Dad at six and it’s quarter to now.” Miranda piled her books into her backpack, careful not to squash her good flat shoes, which she’d changed out of for the walk home from school. “My father’s, like, totally anal about time. If I’m not there on the dot, he’s liable to ground me till Thanksgiving.” She pulled on her black leather jacket. “If you want to study again tomorrow, you could come to my house.”

“Cool.” Oliver clicked off the computer calculator. “Thanks for your help today. Mr. Wilkinson is going to flip his furry little hairpiece when I ace the test.”

Miranda grinned. “Fair’s fair. You’re gonna help me with my English assignment so that old witch Vogler won’t give me a failing grade.”

“No sweat.” Oliver led the way downstairs, his long legs taking the stairs two at a time.

“Bye, Mrs. Cameron,” Miranda called to Oliver’s mother in the kitchen.

“Goodbye, dear.” Oliver’s mother, short, cheerful and plump, appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Come again. Next time, stay for dinner.”

“Thanks. I’d like that.”

Miranda faced Oliver on the front porch and gazed awkwardly at her black hightops. Some guys would have tried to kiss her by now, but not Oliver. She wasn’t sure if she was offended or gratified.

His fists were thrust deep in his pockets so he couldn’t even hold her hand. “Did it hurt when you got your eyebrow pierced?”

“No worse than getting my ears done. The navel was a bit harder.” She lifted the hem on her sweater and was amused when Oliver quickly averted his eyes. Darn, the skin around the hole was still red. Since the weather had turned cooler and she’d been wearing more clothes, the ring got infected easily. “Are you thinking of getting something pierced?”

His cheeks turned dark and he shook his head. “No way.”

Miranda shrugged. Oliver might be a nerd, but he had brains and was a lot more interesting than the guys she’d hung with in L.A. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She walked down Oliver’s street and turned onto Linden Street. Parked outside Erin’s house was her father’s Suburban. Good, he was trying to help. Miranda turned in the walk and climbed the steps to the front door, her running shoes soundless on the painted wooden porch. The murmur of voices, Erin’s and her father’s, came to her through the open window. She was about to knock, when she heard Erin speak her name.

“Miranda will play center for our first game in a few weeks,” Erin was saying. “I hope you’ll come along.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. How is she getting along with her teammates? She doesn’t say much at home.”

“She’s making friends. It helps that she’s a good player.”

“I appreciate you taking an interest in her.” Her father paused. “It’s getting late.

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