You know how when a person is super tall, people think it's funny to ask them, 'hey, how's the weather
up there?'
Or if they're a blond, somebody trying to be a comedian will always ask them,
"do blondes really have more fun?", like in that hair color commercial.
Well, I'm not all that tall, and I'm not a blonde, but I have been asked a couple
of the same questions over and over my whole entire life.
Having seven brothers, all older than you are, is not all that common of an
occurrence, and it seems to fascinate some people. They want to know what it's
like, being the only girl, in a family of guys. Or they want to know if it's fun having so
many brothers. Lots of questions like that. But the main question, the one that
I'm asked the most, and the one that drives me crazy, is this:
"Harlie, which brother is your favorite one?"
Gahhh!
When I was really little, and people would ask me that, I'd say whatever name
popped in my head first, or I'd name the brother who I happened to be with at the
time, or the one who'd just bought me an ice cream cone. People would smile or laugh and
rub my head like I'd just said something amazingly funny, but I really had no idea
what they meant by favorite. I remember when I was about five, I asked Brian, who
I happened to be with at the hardware store at the time, what Mr. Pointer meant
when he asked me that.
Brian just laughed, and told me to just say "Brian" to everyone that asked that question.
When I was about nine, and I wised up to Brian's trick, I became the little
diplomat, and I would say, "I love them all the same," to whoever asked. Since I thought
I was being very grownup by that statement, I couldn't understand why people still
laughed, as though I'd said something amusing.
They would look at Adam, or Crane, or whoever I happened to be with, and say,
"She knows where her bread is buttered, doesn't she?"
I didn't know what THAT meant, either, and when I announced shortly thereafter that
bread should be buttered at the table, I remember all of them laughing and hooting
at me, except for Guthrie, who at ten, also was puzzled.
Anyway, people still ask me that same question now. I've grown to dislike it
immensely. If I'm feeling polite at the moment, I'll generally say,
"They're all terrific," or something like that.
Which they are. All terrific, I mean. Each of them, in their own way, is
very special. And I like spending time with all of them. But I guess, if I
was actually, factually going to put it out there, I'd have to say it was Guthrie. Who's
my favorite, I mean.
Guthrie and I, at the tail end of the family like we are, and only eleven months
apart in age, well, we have alot of the same life experiences. We're the only two
who only know our parents thru stories and photographs. The others all
have real memories that they can pull out and cherish. Guthrie and I grew up
knowing family as a herd of older brothers, protecting and caring for us, and
since we're so close in age, too, we always had one another to play with.
As we've gotten older, we didn't grow apart like some teenage siblings do.
We don't argue much, and if we do, it's mild, and doesn't really amount to much. I think
the reason we don't really argue and fuss is because we really, genuinely like each
other. I mean, I think Guthrie is one of the nicest people I've ever known, and I've
always thought he felt the same about me.
Life is all about change, is what people say. Well, I want to go on record as
saying that I'm not all that crazy about change. At least not the kind of change
that affects me in an adverse way.
And one day, adverse rode into Murphys in a big way, in the person of Megan
Vaughn. Megan is a nice name. I think a more apt name for this particular girl
would have been Grizelda or Drucilla, or something like that. A name that would
have given a warning about what kind of a person she is.
The new school year was up and running. I was in tenth and Guthrie was in
eleventh. We'd been riding to and from school with Ford for the last couple of years,
but Guthrie had been saving his money for two years, and with a little financial
help from Adam, he'd bought himself a truck which was, as he liked to say,
"the sweetest ride at Bret Hart Union High".
I liked the truck, too, and I only had to pester Guthrie a few times before he let
me drive it, which in itself, speaks of what sort of brother he is. Or was.
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Anyway, it was the second week of school, and as is usually the case in our school,
there were a few new kids. Every year it seems like there are some. Crane says it's
because sometimes big city people want to move to Angels Camp or Murphys to live what they
believe is going to be 'the simple life.'
Megan Vaughn was one of the new students. She was in the tenth grade, too,
like me. I'd seen her around the halls, but I hadn't actually talked to her, until one
day at lunchtime when I was sitting outside in the sun with my friends, Kyla and Lori.
"There's the new girl," Kyla said.
When Lori and I looked, Megan was headed our direction.
"Should we ask her to sit with us?" Lori asked.
Kyla and I both said it was fine with us, and when Megan walked past,
Lori stopped her, and invited her to sit with us.
I knew Megan was pretty. Beautiful, even. That was obvious to anybody who
saw her. But now, close up, I could see that those words didn't do her justice.
She was flat-out gorgeous. She had blue eyes, with long eyelashes, and long, black, straight
hair. She had one of those willowly figures, and the kind of perfectly straight teeth that
dentists use in their advertisements.
7
When Lori stopped Megan, she introduced herself, and then Kyla, and then me.
Kyla and I both said hi, and Megan nodded at us.
"Hello," she said.
"You can sit with us, if you want," Lori invited.
"Well, that's just as nice as can be," Megan said, in an unmistakable Southern accent. "But
I believe I'm sitting with some of the fellows." She smiled what I considered to be
a majorly fake smile, and passed on by.
The three of us looked at one another.
"That was rude," Lori said.
"Really rude," I agreed.
"Maybe she didn't mean it that way," Kyla pointed out.
Lori's eyes darkened as we watched Megan pass by the table where Trent Mitchell was
sitting with his friends. Trent and Lori have been dating for a couple of months and Lori
really likes him. Megan ran her fingers along Trent's shoulder as she walked by, and Trent
watched her, looking dazed.
"I'm sorry I asked her to sit with us," Lori said hotly.
"Maybe she doesn't know he's your boyfriend," Kyla said.
Lori gathered up the remnants of her uneaten lunch and stood up, tossing it in the
trash can nearby. "It doesn't matter," she said. "See you later."
As she walked away, I said quietly to Kyla, "She knows Lori is dating Trent. I heard
someone tell her in study hall this morning."
"Oh."
Kyla and I sat there a few minutes longer, watching as Megan moved from one table
full of boys to another equally male-dominated table. I paid close attention to that move
on her part, since Guthrie happened to be sitting at that table. I was pleased and happy
that I didn't see any extreme interaction between Megan and Guthrie.
I didn't really think anything more about Megan until a couple of days later, when
I saw Lori, crying at her locker.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I think Trent wants to break up," she said thru her tears.
"Why do you think that?"
"Some of the girls said he was at Butch's Place last night and Megan was there, too!"
Butch's Place is pretty much the hangout for the teenagers in Murphys. He won't serve underage alcohol but he makes the best cheeseburgers in town. Some couples go there to dance to the old jukebox, or you can play darts and pool.
"Maybe she just happened to be there, too," I said, trying to make her feel better.
"The girls said they were playing pool, and they were hugging on each other!"
"Oh," I said cautiously, not sure how to answer.
"I tried to talk to him this morning and he brushed me off!"
Lori gave me a sorrowful look. "Will you ask Guthrie to ask Trent about it?"
Since Guthrie and Trent are pretty good friends, I guess Lori assumed that was a logical thing to do. But I didn't want to do it. Since Lori doesn't have brothers, she really doesn't understand these things. But I knew Guthrie wouldn't want to ask Trent about it, or get involved in any way. Guys just don't operate that way.
But Lori looked so pitiful, and sad, standing there, and with her being my best friend at school, well, I just couldn't tell her No.
"Okay, I'll try," I agreed.
I paid more attention to Megan in the halls the rest of the day. She was a big flirt, that was for sure. She seemed to flit from one guy to another, giving them all a dose of her Southern charm. She was trouble with a capital T, I surmised.
After school when Guthrie and I met up at his truck to go home, I had a Milky Way candy bar that I'd gotten from the school vending machine. I handed it to him, and he took it with the enthusiasm of a starving teenage boy.
"Hey, thanks!"
"You're welcome."
We were driving along, Guthrie driving one-handed, holding his candy bar in the other hand.
"Did you talk to Trent today?" I asked casually.
"Yeah."
"How's he doing?"
"He's okay."
"Does he still like Lori?"
Guthrie chewed the rest of his candy bar, and shot me a funny look.
"I guess. Why?"
"Well, Lori was wondering. I guess Trent ignored her today."
When Guthrie didn't say anything, I pressed on. "Lori was actually wondering if you would talk to him. Ask him if he still wants to go out with her, and stuff."
Guthrie shook his head. "I don't want to do that. That's dumb."
"I know. It's just, Lori was so upset, and she is my best friend-"
"I don't want to, Har."
"You like Lori, don't you?" I asked, playing the guilt card.
"Sure, I like her. She's a good kid. But I'm not gonna ask Trent anything."
I recognized the wall of McFadden stubbornness. And it wasn't like I'd really expected Guthrie
to agree, anyway. I'd been fairly certain what his answer would be before I'd even
asked.
We were almost home when I said, "You know the new girl?"
"Which one?"
"The one in tenth. Megan. Black hair. Kind of skinny."
"What about her?"
"What do all the guys think of her?"
Guthrie shrugged.
"I know how guys talk, Guthrie. And a girl that looks like that? Come on."
"Well, they think she's real good looking."
"Are any of the guys thinking of asking her out soon?"
Guthrie shrugged again, and pulled up beside our old Jeep.
"Well, I hope she leaves Trent alone," I said darkly. "Lori's real worried."
If I'd known then what I was to know very soon after, I would have been
worried about a certain boy a lot closer to me than Trent Mitchell.
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