Green Castles by K.L. Montgomery

Author:K.L. Montgomery [Montgomery, K.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mountains Wanted Publishing
Published: 2013-09-18T04:00:00+00:00

“ I didn’t stutter,” he says more clearly as he approaches me. Now he’s standing about three feet away and I can see mud on his shoes, freckles on his face, and a glint in his hazel eyes. He also smells a little sweaty to me. Like a boy, I determine.

“ I’m Michelle,” I offer cordially because we’ve never formally been introduced and it seems like the right thing to do. He just stands there staring at me.

“ Yeah, I know,” he eventually replies, yet fails to reciprocate with his name as would be the socially acceptable thing to do. I shrug. It doesn’t matter; I know who he is too.

He grabs a big stick that is lying next to the track and begins to drag it through the gravel, occasionally clanging it against the metal rail. Just like my brothers, he can’t help but make gratuitous noise. I’m already annoyed but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“ Why are you up here?” he finally asks me, as if it took him that long to figure out what to say to me.

“I needed to get away from the fam for a bit,” I retort. “ Oh, you don’t like your parents?” he says. Now I feel like he’s poking me with the stick instead of the track.

Metaphorically speaking, I think, wondering if my English teacher Miss Frederick would appreciate my voluntary use of a literary device.

“ Well, I don’t like annoying people,” I reply, hoping he gets the hint. “My parents and my brothers are pretty annoying.”

“Gotcha,” he says and now he’s walking down the rail and not looking at me anymore. “ Where are you going?” I ask him, suddenly not wanting our conversation to end. Other than Alex Naylor, my lab partner in science class, I haven’t had a shot at too many one-on-one discussions with the opposite sex. I think I need to practice.

“ I don’t know,” he says with his chest puffed out. “Maybe all the way to Terre Haute.”

“ Uh huh,” I laugh at him, knowing that’s like forty miles away. Clearly geography isn’t his strong suit. “And why would you want to go there?”

“It’s not here,” he says. “You know what this place is, don’tcha?”

I shrug. “No?”

“Four Arches,” he tells me. I look down at the concrete arches, one over the road and one over the creek. There’s not four. There’s like 2.5 at best from what I can see. Can people in Putnam County not count? I wonder. “Four?” I repeat, my confusion evident.

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