“Right,” he drawled.
“They can!” She lifted her chin, practically quivering with twelve-year-old indignation. “You know, I’ve been around. Besides, you don’t see any black eyes on me, do you?”
He stopped so suddenly she collided with his back. Exasperated, he turned to face her. “Is there some reason you’ve decided to single me out for torture?”
She laughed. “I like you, Chance. You’re funny.”
Funny to a twelve-year-old girl. Wow. Another great life accomplishment. “I’m out of here, kid.” He started walking away.
“I’ll go with you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
She ignored him. “Really, Chance, you can’t let those guys push you around.” She tucked a hank of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “I meet a lot of smartasses in school. A lot of tough-guy types.”
“I’ll just bet.”
“I’m the new kid a lot, and you know what that means.”
He stopped and faced her again. “You seem intent on telling me this.”
“I am.”
“So do it, little-miss-know-it-all. Then leave me alone.”
“You don’t have to be so grouchy.” She cocked up her chin. “You have to be smarter and tougher. If they give you any crap, just give it back double. That’s what I do.”
“And I’m sure you’re very popular.”
“With the principal.” She shrugged.
“It’s cool.” “I’ll think about your advice. Okay?” Chance saw a couple of his bunk mates across the way, and he scowled, not wanting them to see him conversing with a kid. “Now, for the last time, will you please buzz off?”
This time, when he walked away, she didn’t follow or call out. Relieved, he took one last glance over his shoulder, just to make sure. She stood alone, looking out of place in the midst of all the activity around her; she looked lonely.
For a moment he almost felt sorry for her, then he shook his head. If the kid was lonely, it was because she was a know-it-all pest. Let her mother, the witch-Gypsy-fortune-teller worry about her, she wasn’t his problem. His lips curved up at the thought of actually being responsible for a kid like that. Forget sugar and spice, that girl was nothing but piss, vinegar and trouble with a capital T.
The farther away from her he stayed, the better.
Chapter Nine
The kid did not give Chance the opportunity to keep his distance. For the next week she dogged his steps. Morning, noon or night, it didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing, he could turn around or look up and there the know-it-all little pest would be, grinning at him. Asking questions, giving advice. Offering to help him, no matter what he was doing at the time.
He didn’t know why she was so interested in him; he didn’t care. Besides annoying the crap out of him, the kid was making things even more difficult for him than they already were. He was barely holding his own with the other roustabouts, as it was; now, because of her kiddie crush or whatever it was, he was the butt of their jokes, as well. He had heard the jeers of the other guys as he passed, their snickers, the little ditty they chanted every time he was near enough to hear.
Skye and Chance, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes little Skye riding in the baby carriage.
They all thought it very funny. A laugh-riot. He was not amused—not with their ditty or her interest in him. He was going to have to put an end to this. And soon.
The pest in question plopped down onto the picnic-table bench beside him and smiled. “Hi, Chance.”
He didn’t look up. “Go away.”
“Whatcha doing?”
Chance scowled and tossed his fork back onto his plate. “I was eating my breakfast.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” She drew up her knees and propped her elbows on them. “I ate in our trailer early.”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood. “Good for you.”
She popped up. “I’ll go with you.”
From across the tent, he saw two of the sideshow performers watching them, their expressions openly amused. One of them winked at him and began mouthing some words. Chance had a pretty good idea what those words were.
Skye and Chance, sitting in a tree…
He gritted his teeth. “Look, kid, what do you want?”
“I came to help you set up your booth. I thought you—”
“Go help somebody else.” He picked up his tray and carried it to the bus-station.
She scurried after him. “Wait. You know, it’s Saturday, and I thought you might nee—”
“I don’t.” Turning his back to her, he scraped the last of the unappetizing bacon and eggs into the trash then set his plate and utensils in a dish tub, his tray beside it. Without even a glance back in her direction, he hurried from the tent and out into the bright day beyond.
She followed, catching up in moments and tugging on his sleeve. When he met her gaze, she indicated his bruised cheek. “I see those creeps nailed you again.”
“It’s no big deal.”
She shook her head, screwing up her face in disgust. “Those guys make me sick.”
“Yeah, well, life’s rough all over.”
She skipped along beside him. “I tried to tell you before, if you’d just give ‘em a good pop they’ll leave you alone. Or, you could go to Mr. Marvel and tell him.”
“Gimme a break.”
“No, really. You could.”
Chance stopped and glared down at her, exasperated. “Are you enjoying this, kid? Is this fun for you? Ruining my life? Making me the laughingstock of the show? How many times and ways do I have to ask you to leave me alone before you actually do?”
“I’m not trying to ruin your life.” She shook her head, her expression hurt. “We’re friends, and I only wanted to hel—”
“You’re not helping. And we’re not friends.”
“We could be.”
“No, we couldn’t!” Enough was enough. He had tried to be nice, but he’d had it. Hands on hips, Chance faced her, looking her straight in the eyes. “I’m an adult and you’re a kid. We have nothing in common. In fact, I don’t even like you. You’re a know-it-all and a pest. I tell you what, I’ll give you five bucks to go ruin somebody else’s life for a while.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she took a step backward. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then shut it again without speaking. He muttered an oath, feeling like a total heel. She was just a kid, for Pete’s sake.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re a perfectly okay kid and all, it’s just that I’m—”
“Well, well…what do we have here, fellas? The farm boy and his little girlfriend.”
Shit, Len and his band of hick-thugs. Chance turned around slowly. The boy and his group stood just beyond the little top, their expressions twisted into amused sneers.
Len placed his hands on his hips. “And just look at the two of them, standin’ there all cozy. Isn’t that too sweet?”
The