When Maddy’s cell rang at dusk, she snatched it like it might magically transport her back to civilization and save her from morosely staring out at the gathering blue and purple shadows on the lawn.
“How’s the prison inmate?” Morgan crackled from the other end.
“Oh my God! I am so glad you called!” Maddy cried, sitting up in her chair and lowering her feet from the porch railing.
“Hey, don’t hold back or anything.” Morgan laughed. “So, is it awful or what?”
Maddy stood and began pacing between the room and the porch, holding the phone in a death grip. “There was a pig in the driveway when we drove up!” She yanked the phone away from her ear to dull the shrieks of her friend’s raucous laughter. “Hey, you could be feeling sorry for me, you know,” she said.
Morgan chokingly pulled herself together. “I know,” she said weakly. “It’s just that—come on. Madeline Sinclaire and a pig? Is he your new best buddy?”
“Very funny. And there’s only one bathroom, all the rooms are tiny, and my hideous parents have already sentenced me to manual labor.” Maddy flopped down on the bed and hung her head over the side. She stared at the rich brown floorboards and traced a little pattern with her index finger.
“Unbelievable. What’s the deal with this place? I mean, why are they so obsessed with it?”
Maddy heaved a gusty sigh. “It’s their dream,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They’ve talked about buying a vineyard for practically as long as I can remember. The owners of this place went bankrupt because of some sort of insider trading scandal last winter. So they sold it really cheap and now my parents are convinced making wine is their destiny or something. And apparently I have to be part of it.”
“Well, don’t worry. They can’t keep you up there for the whole summer, can they?”
Maddy laughed. “Why not? They can do anything they want.” She knew Morgan was just trying to make her feel better, but she couldn’t help her nasty mood.
“The party was hella fun, though,” Morgan reminded her. “Everyone’s saying it was the best one of the summer so far.”
Maddy smiled. “Thanks, chica.”
“And—”
Maddy sat up. “Wait, what’s that noise?” A steady cheep, cheep, cheep was coming from one corner of the porch. She got up from the bed.
“What? Maddy, is it a bear?” Morgan cried. She sounded genuinely scared. Maddy went out onto the porch and peered into the dark corner. The cheeping stopped as if on a timer.
“No, Miss Hysteria, it’s a cricket, not a bear. I’m not in the Yukon Territory.” She backed away a step. Cheep, cheep, cheep. She moved forward. It stopped. Back. Cheep. Forward. Stop. “It’s majorly annoying, though,” she said as she retreated into her bedroom. The cheeping resumed, right on cue.
“Poor Mad—hey, I’ve got to go,” Morgan said. “Kirsten’s on the other line. We’re all going to dinner in a few minutes.”
“Who’s going?” Maddy asked mournfully.
“Why are you torturing yourself? The usual: Brian, Chad, Taylor, Sunny, me, and Kirsten. Don’t worry, we’ll get an extra chair for you.”
Maddy pushed her face into her pillow. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “Bye.”
“Bye. I’ll call you.”
Maddy tossed her phone onto the bedside table and lay staring at the darkness. Cheep, cheep, cheep. She sat up and turned the light on. The cheeping stopped. She turned the light off and lay back down. CHEEP, CHEEP, CHEEP. Maddy sat up again. “Shut up!” she yelled in the direction of the porch. The noise stopped for a moment, as if the cricket were considering its options, and then began again, deciding Maddy wasn’t worth listening to. Of course, Maddy thought. Because what I want doesn’t matter anymore.