Vision by Lisa Amowitz Page B

desolate and fragile, like wind howling through bare branches. The improvised riff doubled back on itself, becoming more soulful, more complex. Bobby found himself singing that wordless melody again, braiding the worry, the horror, and the yearning he felt for Gabe into its notes.
    Pete raced from the side of the house to the foot of the porch stairs, ears up. He started barking as a figure made its way toward them. Bobby squinted. No one ever came down here except Aaron, and he was still at school.
    “Hey, there!” Gabe called, waving.
    Bobby’s heart froze. He felt trapped, cornered. What the hell is she doing here?
    Gabe bounced through the tall grass. Pete ran to meet her, tail wagging happily.
    She stood at the base of the steps, smiling up at him. “Sound travels amazingly well out here. I heard your playing. It was wonderful.”
    His face hot, Bobby resisted the urge to run into the house, slam the door and lock it behind him. Except the lock had stopped working years ago. The girl had no clue that her presence only made things worse for him. Only reminded him of things he couldn’t have. Things he’d lost. Things he still might lose.
    “Just fiddling around,” he said, his voice a hoarse croak.
    She climbed the few stairs to the porch, clutching a few sprigs of blue and pink wildflowers she’d picked on her walk. “I heard my dad say he felt bad you were missing out on your burger tonight. I brought three deluxe dinners with fries. Your dad seemed pretty damn ecstatic over them.”
    Bobby stared back, not sure what to say. “You didn’t need to do this.”
    “I know. I just kind of wanted to. Plus, I wanted to see how you were doing.”
    Bobby looked down, his jaw clenched tight, his stomach in knots. “Well, you can see I’m just fine. You should go.”
    “I came all the way out here just to see you, and you’re sending me away?”
    His throat was parched, electric current crackling under his skin. His breathing sped up like he’d just sprinted at top speed. “I just need to be alone.”
    Bobby risked a glance at her. The corners of her mouth drooped, the copper-gold hair falling in her face. What did she want from him?
    “I’m not going to bite you. After last night I—”
    Bobby felt his anger heat to a boil. “Never mind last night. I’m okay. You can go now.”
    The flowers still in her hand, Gabe leaned on the rail and stared out at the field. “What are you so afraid of, Bobby Pendell?”
    He squeezed his eyes closed and exhaled, the fight gone out of him. “I’m not afraid of anything except not having a job.”
    “My dad’s not going to fire you just because you got sick on the job. You think it’s easy to find good workers like you?”
    “You don’t understand.”
    “What don’t I understand?”
    Bobby stood and began to pace the rickety porch, the loose boards groaning under his boots. He had to get rid of her without admitting the power she had over him. “I heard you arguing yesterday. Your dad has you on a tight leash. He wouldn’t want you visiting here.”
    When he turned around to complete his pace, he found Gabe blocking his way, staring up at him with those amber eyes. “It’s not like you think. I’m not that way.”
    “What way?”
    “I’m not like my mom. She—she’s awful. She hurt my dad. Broke his heart. That’s why he moved up here. To get away. He had a booming business in the city. Sometimes, because I look so much like her, I think he—”
    “Please leave,” Bobby begged. “Now.”
    Instead, Gabe reached for his face and brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. “Why should I leave, Bobby? Give me one good reason.”
    He tried to breathe in and out very slowly to smother the fire that raged under his skin. It was a game to her. His feelings, his emotions were all a game.
    She edged closer, the curve of her body leaving only a warm, pulsing gap between them. Bobby could feel the prickle of current leap the gap, drawing him closer. He let out