“Physically, she was in the backyard under a tree, with more backyards in all directions but one, all cluttered with picnic tables, clotheslines, grills, garbage cans, lawn chairs, wading pools, patios. Petunias. Tomato plants. Sprinklers. But otherwise, she was out on the moors with Catherine, crying Heathcliff’s name out into the blinding storm. Their rough and wild childhood friendship had deepened into love, but Catherine had become engaged to someone else who was more educated, refined, and... wealthy. And Heath-cliff had gone away. There was more to it than that, but still, Debbie wondered at how Cathy could marry Linton. She didn’t think money and refinement mattered to her the way it did to Cathy. If she liked someone, she would like them. That was all that would matter. She looked up from her book. Lenny was working on his dirt bike. She watched him for a few minutes. He was wearing a T-shirt with the sleeves chopped off, and she noticed that he had muscles in his arms.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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