Page 45 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“All right...” I grab the bag of bread from his hand.

“Do you love me again?”

“Huh?”

“I wanted to know if you loved me again. You said you didn’t love me before you went to your room.”

Oh my God, really? Who cares?

“I don’t know. I’ll see.”

He laughs. “Well, I still love you, and I’ll keep loving you. You won’t ever escape it.” He stands up and grabs me in a big hug. I’m too old for this. I’m thirteen freaking years old!

“Great.” I wiggle like a slimy worm to get free from his grip. I grab the tray and head into the living room.

This Buffalo dip doesn’t make the whole Hayley thing okay, but...maybe I was just a little too mean to him earlier. Why do I get so mean sometimes?

Chapter Eight

Nobody

ADAIR IS PLAYING TAGwith his friends on the hill in front of me. His bright red hair shimmers in the sunlight. It’s always easy to spot him. He stands out from the other boys.

I’m tired. I throw down the hoe I’m holding. The sun is so strong today. It’s usually cloudy or raining, but this is a nice change. I shield my eyes with my hand and watch Adair play with the other children. I smile.

He sees me watching from a distance and waves. He says something to the others and runs in my direction. When he finally makes it over to me, he’s out of breath. He wraps his arms around me. He’s sweaty but smells sweet like grass, not perspiration.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “You’re so dirty. You’re dirtier than me, and I’m working!”

He laughs. “Can you come play now?”

“I can’t. I have to get this soil cleaned up.”

“Clean enough.”

“Nothing will grow here. If nothing grows here, we have no business left.”

“Pop used to do it way quicker than you.”

He frowns. I stop smiling too.

“Aye, but I’m not Pop. You see these muscles?” I lift my scrawny arms to make a joke. He laughs. I’m glad he’s smiling again, even if it’s at my expense.

“How about I try?”

“You’re just a wee one. You’re smaller than me.”

“But I’m stronger.”

“No you’re not, Adair.”

He gets down on his knees and digs into the soil with his bare hands.

“What are you doing? Stop! Stop it! You’re making a mess!”

He pauses and looks up at me.

“You remember how dirty Pop was every single day after he was done working?”

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