A Bird on a Windowsill Read Free Page B

like her hug. I like the way it feels. But mostly, I like her hug because, out of all the girls I’ve ever met, this one’s my favorite.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Three
    Savannah 
    (Thirteen Years Old)
     

     
    Day 2,920
     
    “T hree-pointer,” I say.
    I’m at Eben’s. My mom and dad are at a parent-teacher conference for my sister. I had three choices: Stay at home and do homework, go with them or come over here. The first one was a definite no ; the second sounded even more boring than the first. So, this was a no-brainer. Plus, Eben’s mom was making chicken and dumplings tonight. And since I don’t pass up his mom’s chicken and dumplings, I left my house before dinner.
    I shoot the little basketball at the goal stuck to Eben’s closet door. It hits the rim and bounces onto Eben.
    “Nice shot, V,” he says, catching the ball.
    I narrow my eyes at him but still smile.
    “Are you ever going to get new sheets?”
    He looks at the bed covers surrounding me. I secretly like his Spiderman sheets, but I feel as if it’s my duty to point out the fact that he is in junior high now and he still has sheets that look like comic books.
    “Look who’s talking.”
    “What?”
    “Vannah, you’ve got purple cats all over your sheets.”
    “Cats are cool, though.”
    “Yeah, well, so is Spiderman.”
    We both look at each other. Neither of us wants to be the first to laugh.
    It’s usually him. But this time, it’s me. I laugh first, and then, so does he.
    I lie back on his bed and kick my feet up onto his sky-blue wall.
    “Do you think we can see it yet?”
    He shrugs. “Maybe.”
    A second later, he’s crawling over me to get to the window.
    “Watch it,” I say. “Your pokey elbows are stabbing my ribs.”
    He stops and hovers over me. “My elbows aren’t pokey.”
    I notice his eyes on mine, and I stop and look at them. I’ve always taken notice of Eben’s eyes. His eyes are the first thing everyone notices when they see him. They’re this perfect shade of light—almost the color of that sawdust at his dad’s lumberyard—against his almond skin.
    But tonight, I don’t just notice his eyes; I feel them. I feel him looking at me—as if he’s not just looking at me, but he’s looking into me. It makes me feel exposed somehow. It makes me feel as if he’s just discovered a secret of mine. And a part of me wonders if he has.
    But it’s only a moment. And then it’s gone. And then his eyes drop, and he pushes off of the mattress and goes to the window.
    I can’t move. For a few seconds, I just lie there, staring at the white ceiling, wondering what secret he took with him.
    “I think it’s dark enough.”
    His voice forces my attention to him. He’s standing in the window, still looking out of it. I sit up and watch him.
    He’s not the tallest boy in our class. In fact, he’s just my height. But his feet and hands are big, like he’s got more growing to do. And his hair is a little longer than most boys I know, even with its curls.
    I smile to myself and watch him stare out that big window. I don’t think of other boys like I think of Eben. Other boys are just boys. But Eben is Eben.
    “We should go and look,” he says, turning back toward me.
    I jump a little and then quickly clear my throat.
    “Yeah,” I say. “We should.”
    He looks at me as if he just missed something, which he did. He missed the part where a little thought crossed my mind—a little thought that said I just might have a crush on Salem Ebenezer.
    I stand and smooth out my hair with my fingers, trying to hide my thoughts. “Well, let’s go,” I say.
    He’s wearing a smile, but he gives me a funny look. I just ignore it, as I turn and silently trudge out of his bedroom and to his back door.
    It’s dark outside when I push through the door. And until my eyes adjust, it’s hard to see. But I keep walking. I know the path to his trampoline by heart. And soon, I reach the metal steps and easily crawl up them.
    The