Matilda woke up because that dumb rooster wouldn't shut up again. She groaned loud and rolled over in her creaky bed, yanking the thin blanket over her head.
It was her fifth day stuck in Wattle Creek, and she was so done. Done with the dust sticking to her skin, done with the heat making her sweat, done with everything being so annoying.
But last night wouldn't leave her brain. She kept thinking about sitting on the porch with Jack, talking about dumb stuff like stars and surfing.
It was weird. Kind of nice, sure, but mostly weird. She didn't want to keep thinking about it. Jack was still a pain. Well, most of the time.
She kicked the blanket off and got up, stretching her arms. Her legs hurt from chasing that stupid kangaroo yesterday.
It had hopped off laughing at her, probably. Her jeans were still muddy from falling in the dirt, so she dug through her suitcase for another pair.
They were all wrinkled and smelled like her closet back home, but at least they were clean.
She pulled them on, grabbed a shirt, and shoved her feet into her sneakers. Then she shuffled to the kitchen, her stomach growling already.
Uncle Ben was there, sitting at the table, eating eggs like always. "Morning," he said, not even looking up from his plate.
"Morning," Matilda mumbled back. She reached over and snatched a piece of toast off his plate.
It was dry and hard, but she was too hungry to care. She bit into it and chewed slow.
"Going back to the barn today?" he asked, still poking at his eggs with a fork.
"Yeah," she said, her voice flat. "Stupid wombat."
"You're doing alright," he said. "Mayor Dodd told me you and Jack got the frame going."
Matilda shrugged her shoulders. "It's a mess. Paint got everywhere."
Uncle Ben laughed, his big belly shaking. "Sounds normal. You'll figure it out." He stood up, grabbed his old hat off the chair, and tipped it onto his head. "I'm off to mess with the truck. Don't get in trouble."
"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. He walked out, leaving his plate on the table. She finished the toast, crumbs falling on her shirt.
She didn't want to go to the barn. She didn't want to deal with Jack or that ugly wombat statue. But she had no choice. She grabbed her backpack, slung it over one shoulder, and headed outside.
The sun hit her hard, burning her shoulders right away. She walked slow, kicking little rocks and dirt with every step, watching them bounce away.
When she got to the barn, Jack was already there, sawing a plank of wood. He looked up as she got close. "Hey, city girl," he said, wiping sweat off his forehead. "Sleep okay?"
"Fine," she said, short and sharp. She dropped her backpack in the dirt and grabbed a hammer from the pile of tools. "What do we do now?"
"More wood," he said. "Then paint again. Try not to spill it this time."
"Shut up," she said, but a tiny smile snuck out. He grinned back, showing his dumb teeth. They started working—Jack cutting the wood with the saw, Matilda banging nails into it.
It wasn't so bad today. She didn't mess up the nails as much, and he didn't tease her like usual.
They didn't talk a lot, just the sound of the saw going back and forth and the hammer smacking the wood. It was okay. Quiet, but okay.
Around noon, Jack plopped down on the old tire they used as a seat and pulled a sandwich out of his bag. Matilda's stomach growled loud enough for him to hear.
She sat next to him, hoping he'd share like he did before. He looked at her, one eyebrow up. "Hungry?" he asked.
"Maybe," she said, looking away. He ripped the sandwich in half and handed her a piece. It was just cheese and tomato, nothing fancy, but it smelled good. She took a big bite. "Thanks," she said, her mouth full.
"No kangaroos today," he said, chewing his half. "Safe so far."
"Good," she said. They ate slow, looking up at the clouds floating by. It was nice. Not yelling, not fighting, just sitting there together. She didn't hate it. She didn't love it either, but it wasn't awful.
Then she heard this laugh—high and loud and fake. She turned her head fast. A girl was walking up the path toward them. She was pretty, Matilda hated to admit it—long blonde hair swinging, blue eyes sparkling, and a big smile plastered on her face.
She had on a dress and boots, and she waved at Jack like she owned the place. "Jackie!" she called out, her voice all singsong.
Matilda froze. Jackie? Who was this girl? Jack stood up quick, brushing crumbs off his hands onto his shorts. "Hey, Lily," he said, sounding normal but maybe a little nervous.
The girl—Lily—ran over and threw her arms around him in a big hug. He hugged her back, but it was fast and stiff, like he wasn't sure what to do. Matilda's stomach flipped upside down. She didn't like this. Not even a little.
"Who's this?" Lily asked, pulling back and looking at Matilda. Her smile stayed, but her eyes got narrow and sharp, like she was sizing her up.
"Matilda," Jack said. "She's helping with the wombat."
"Oh," Lily said, her voice all sweet. "The city girl. I heard about you." She stepped closer, her boots crunching the dirt. "I'm Lily Grace Evans. Jack's friend."
"Ex," Jack said quick, cutting her off. "Ex-friend."
"Whatever," Lily said, laughing like it was a joke. She reached out and touched his arm, her fingers lingering. "We're still close, right, Jackie?"
Matilda stood up fast, her half-eaten sandwich falling in the dirt. "I'm not his friend," she said. "I just work here."
Lily raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down. "Good to know." She turned back to Jack, flipping her hair. "Missed you. Been busy with sheep?"
"Yeah," Jack said. He scratched the back of his neck, staring at the ground. "You know how it is."
"Too busy for me?" Lily said, sticking out her lip in a pout. She flipped her hair again, and Matilda wanted to yank it. This girl was so fake, she could tell right away.
"Nah," Jack said. "Just working."
Lily's smile got even bigger. "Good. We should hang out. Like old times." She leaned closer to him, too close.
Matilda's hands balled up into fists. She didn't know why she cared so much, but she did. It was dumb, but she couldn't stop it.
"I've got stuff to do," Jack said. "The statue."
"Bring her," Lily said, nodding at Matilda like she was some kid. "She can watch."
"I don't watch," Matilda said, her voice hard. "I work."
Lily laughed again, loud and annoying. "Feisty. I like it." She turned back to Jack. "Come by later, okay? Dad's got new horses. You can ride."
"Maybe," Jack said. He didn't look at Matilda, just kept his eyes on Lily. Matilda stared at the ground, her face hot.
She didn't like Lily. She didn't like how Jack smiled at her. She didn't like any of this stupid mess.
Lily hugged him again, holding on way too long this time. "See you, Jackie," she said, all cheery. She waved at Matilda. "Bye, city girl."
Then she walked off, her dress swishing like she was in some movie. Matilda watched her go, her chest feeling tight and heavy.
Jack sat back down on the tire. "Sorry," he said, rubbing his hands together. "She's… a lot."
"Your ex?" Matilda asked. She tried to sound normal, but her voice came out sharp, like a knife.
"Yeah," he said. "Broke up last year. She's still around."
"She's annoying," Matilda said. She grabbed the hammer and smashed it down on a nail. It bent sideways. She hit it again, harder.
Jack laughed. "Jealous?"
"No," she snapped, her face getting red. "Why would I be?"
"Dunno," he said, shrugging. "You look mad."
"I'm not," she lied. She was mad. Mad at Lily for showing up out of nowhere. Mad at Jack for hugging her like it was nothing.
Mad at herself for even caring. She hammered harder, the bangs loud in her ears, not looking at him.
They kept working all day, but it wasn't fun anymore. Jack tried to talk a couple times, saying stuff like, "Hey, pass the nails," or "Can you hold this?"
But Matilda just answered short and mean. "Here." "Fine." She didn't laugh when he dropped a plank on his foot and hopped around cursing. She didn't take his water when he held it out to her.
Lily's stupid laugh kept bouncing around in her head, and every time Jack smiled, she pictured him smiling at Lily instead. It made her want to scream.
When the sun started going down, Uncle Ben's truck rumbled up the road. Matilda grabbed her backpack fast and marched over to it. "See you," she said, not turning around to look at Jack.
"Matilda—" he started, but she climbed in and slammed the door hard. Uncle Ben looked over at her, one eyebrow up. "Rough day?" he asked.
"Shut up," she said, crossing her arms. He just shrugged and started driving. She stared out the window, watching the barn get smaller and smaller behind them. She didn't get why she was so mad.
Jack wasn't her friend. He could talk to whoever he wanted, right? But Lily made her skin itch, and the way Jack didn't shove her away made it worse. Way worse.
When they got home, she stomped to her room and flopped on the bed face-first. The stars were out again, twinkling through the window, but she didn't go look.
She didn't want to think about last night, sitting with Jack, feeling okay for once. She didn't want to think about him at all.
She closed her eyes tight and tried to sleep, but Lily's face kept popping up—smiling that fake smile, hugging Jack, calling him Jackie in that dumb voice.
Then Matilda remembered Lily. She had seen her during the town meeting—she was with Jack at the time.
Matilda grabbed her pillow and punched it hard. Tomorrow she'd have to see him again. She didn't want to.
But she had to. Stupid wombat. Stupid Wattle Creek. Stupid Jack. Stupid everything.