《flipped(英文版)》第54章

“That　wasn"t　Dad；　sweetheart。　It　was　Bryce。”
I　sat　straight　up。　“Now　he"s　calling？　I　have　lived　across　the　street　from　him　for　six　years　and
he"s　never　once　called　me！　Is　he　doing　this　because
he"s　jealous？”
“Jealous？　Of　whom？”
So　I　gave　her　the　blow…by…blow；　beginning　with　Mrs。　Stueby；　going　clear　through　Darla；　the
auction；　the　furball　fight；　and　ending　with　Bryce　trying
to　kiss　me　in　front　of　everybody。
She　clapped　her　hands　and　positively　giggled。
“Mom；　it"s　not　funny！”
She　tried　to　straighten　up。　“I　know；　sweetheart；　I　know。”
“I　don"t　want　to　wind　up　like　Mrs。　Loski！”
“You　don"t　have　to　marry　the　boy；　Julianna。　Why　don"t　you　just　listen　to　what　he　has　to　say？
He　sounded　desperate　to　talk　to　you。”
“What　could　he　possibly　have　to　say？　He"s　already　tried　to　blame　Garrett　for　what　he　said
about　Uncle　David；　and　I"m　sorry；　but　I　don"t　buy　it。　He"s
lied　to　me；　he　hasn"t　stood　up　for　me　…　he"s　…　he"s　nobody　that　I　want　to　like。　I　just　need
some　time　to　get　over　all　those　years　of　having　liked　him。”
Mom　sat　there　for　the　longest　time；　biting　her　cheek。　Then　she　said；　“People　do　change；　you
know。　Maybe　he"s　had　some　revelations　lately；　too。
And　frankly；　any　boy　who　tries　to　kiss　a　girl　in　front　of　a　room　full　of　other　kids　does　not　sound
like　a　coward　to　me。”　She　stroked　my　hair　and
………　Page　91………
whispered；　“Maybe　there"s　more　to　Bryce　Loski　than　you　know。”
Then　she　left　me　alone　with　my　thoughts。
My　mother　knew　I　needed　time　to　think；　but　Bryce　wouldn"t　leave　me　alone。　He　kept　calling
on　the　phone　and　knocking　on　the　door。　He　even　snuck
around　the　house　and　tapped　on　my　window！　Every　time　I　turned　around；　there　he　was；
pestering　me。
I　wanted　to　be　able　to　water　the　yard　in　peace。　I　wanted　not　to　have　to　avoid　him　at　school　or
have　Darla　run　block　for　me。　Why　didn"t　he
understand　that　I　wasn"t　interested　in　what　he　had　to　say？　What　could　he　possibly　have　to
say？
Was　it　so　much　to　ask　just　to　be　left　alone？
Then　this　afternoon　I　was　reading　a　book　in　the　front　room　with　the　curtains　drawn；　hiding
from　him　as　I　had　all　week；　when　I　heard　a　noise　in　the
yard。　I　peeked　outside　and　there　was　Bryce；　walking　across　my　grass。　Stomping　all　over　my
grass！　And　he　was　carrying　a　spade！　What　was　he
planning　to　do　with　that？
I　flew　off　the　couch　and　yanked　open　the　door　and　ran　right　into　my　father。　“Stop　him！”　I　cried。
“Calm　down；　Julianna；”　he　said；　and　eased　me　back　inside。　“I　gave　him　permission。”
“Permission！　Permission　to　do　what？”　I　flew　back　to　the　window。　“He"s　digging　a　hole。”
“That"s　right。　I　told　him　he　could。”
“But　why？”
“I　think　the　boy　has　a　very　good　idea；　that"s　why。”
“But—”
“It"s　not　going　to　kill　your　grass；　Julianna。　Just　let　him　do　what　he"s　e　to　do。”
“But　what　is　it？　What"s　he　doing？”
“Watch。　You"ll　figure　it　out。”
It　was　torture　seeing　him　dig　up　my　grass。　The　hole　he　was　making　was　enormous！　How
could　my　father　let　him　do　this　to　my　yard？
Bryce　knew　I　was　there；　too；　because　he　looked　at　me　once　and　nodded。　No　smile；　no　wave；
just　a　nod。
He　dragged　over　some　potting　soil；　pierced　the　bag　with　the　spade；　and　shoveled　dirt　into　the
hole。　Then　he　disappeared。　And　when　he　came
back；　he　wrestled　a　big　burlapped　root　ball　across　the　lawn；　the　branches　of　a　plant　rustling
back　and　forth　as　he　moved。
My　dad　joined　me　on　the　couch　and　peeked　out　the　window；　too。
“A　tree？”　I　whispered。　“He"s　planting　a　tree？”
“I"d　help　him；　but　he　says　he　has　to　do　this　himself。”
“Is　it　a　…”　The　words　stuck　in　my　throat。
I　didn"t　really　need　to　ask；　though；　and　he　knew　he　didn"t　need　to　answer。　I　could　tell　from　the
shape　of　the　leaves；　from　the　texture　of　the　trunk。
This　was　a　sycamore　tree。
I　flipped　around　on　the　couch　and　just　sat。
A　sycamore　tree。
Bryce　finished　planting　the　tree；　watered　it；　cleaned　everything　up；　and　then　went　home。　And
I　just　sat　there；　not　knowing　what　to　do。
I"ve　been　sitting　here　for　hours　now；　just　staring　out　the　window　at　the　tree。　It　may　be　little
now；　but　it"ll　grow；　day　by　day。　And　a　hundred　years　from
now　it"ll　reach　clear　over　the　rooftops。　It"ll　be　miles　in　the　air！　Already　I　can　tell—it"s　going　to
be　an　amazing；　magnificent　tree。
And　I　can"t　help　wondering；　a　hundred　years　from　now　will　a　kid　climb　it　the　way　I　climbed　the
one　up　on　Collier　Street？　Will　she　see　the　things　I
did？　Will　she　feel　the　way　I　did？
Will　it　change　her　life　the　way　it　changed　mine？
I　also　can"t　stop　wondering　about　Bryce。　What　has　he　been　trying　to　tell　me？　What"s　he
thinking　about？
………　Page　92………
I　know　he"s　home　because　he　looks　out　his　window　from　time　to　time。　A　little　while　ago　he　put
his　hand　up　and　waved。　And　I　couldn"t　help　it—I　gave　a　little　wave　back。
So　maybe　I　should　go　over　there　and　thank　him　for　the　tree。　Maybe　we　could　sit　on　the　porch
and　talk。　It　just　occurred　to　me　that　in　all　the　years　we"ve　known　each　other；　we"ve　never
done　that。
Never　really　talked。
Maybe　my　mother"s　right。　Maybe　there　is　more　to　Bryce　Loski　than　I　know。
Maybe　it"s　time　to　meet　him　in　the　proper　light。
………　Page　93………
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“My　Girl”
Words　and　Music　by　William　“Smokey”　Robinson　and　Ronald　White
（C）　1964；　1972　（renewed　1992；　2000）；　1973；　1977　JOBETE　MUSIC　CO。；　INC。　All　Rights
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Van　Draanen；　Wendelin。
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p。　cm。
Summary：　In　alternating　chapters；