Firefly Lane (Firefly Lane 1)

Tully wanted to scream. "Okay? Okay? Im fourteen years old. "

"My job is to love and support you, baby, not to get in your face. "

Tully closed her eyes, counted to ten, and said again, "I dont have any friends here. "

"Make new ones. I heard you were Miss Popular at your old school. "

"Come on, Mom, I—"

"Cloud. "

"Im not calling you Cloud. "

"Fine, Tallulah. " Mom looked up to make sure her point had been made. It had.

"I dont belong here. "

"You know better than that, Tully. Youre a child of the earth and sky; you belong everywhere. The Bhagavad Gita says . . . "

"Thats it. " Tully walked away while her mother was still talking. The last thing she wanted to hear was some drug-soaked advice that belonged on a black-light poster. On the way out, she snagged a pack of Virginia Slims from her moms purse and headed for the road.

For the next week, Kate watched the new girl from a distance.

Tully Hart was boldly, coolly different; brighter, somehow, than everyone else in the faded green hallways. She had no curfew and didnt care if she got caught smoking in the woods behind the school. Everyone talked about it. Kate heard the whispered awe in their voices. For a group of kids whod grown up in the dairy farms and paper mill workers homes of the Snohomish Valley, Tully Hart was exotic. Everyone wanted to be friends with her.

Her neighbors instant popularity made Kates alienation more unbearable. She wasnt sure why it wounded her so much. All she knew was that every morning, as they stood at the bus stop beside each other and yet worlds apart, separated by yawning silence, Kate felt a desperate desire to be acknowledged by Tully.

Not that it would ever happen.

". . . before The Carol Burnett show starts. Its ready now. Kate? Katie?"

Kate lifted her head from the table. Shed fallen asleep on her open social studies textbook at the kitchen table. "Huh? What did you say?" she asked, pushing her heavy glasses back up into place.

"I made Hamburger Helper for our new neighbors. I want you to take it across the street. "

"But . . . " Kate tried to think of an excuse, anything that would get her out of this. "Theyve been here a week. "

"So Im late. Things have been crazy lately. "

"Ive got too much homework. Send Sean. "

"Seans not likely to make friends over there, now, is he?"

"Neither am I," Kate said miserably.

Mom faced her. The brown hair shed curled and teased so carefully this morning had fallen during the day and her makeup had faded. Now her round, apple-cheeked face looked pale and washed out. Her purple and yellow crocheted vest—a Christmas present from last year—was buttoned wrong. Staring at Kate, she crossed the room and sat down at the table. "Can I say something without you jumping all over me?"

"Probably not. "

"Im sorry about you and Joannie. "

Of all the things Kate might have expected, that was not even on the list. "It doesnt matter. "

"It matters. I hear shes running with a pretty fast crowd these days. "

Kate wanted to say she couldnt have cared less, but to her horror, tears stung her eyes. Memories rushed at her—Joannie and her on the Octopus ride at the fair, sitting outside their stalls at the barn, talking about how much fun high school would be. She shrugged. "Yeah. "

"Life is hard sometimes. Especially at fourteen. "