“It sucks,” Jodie says with a sigh.
“A lot of things in this world do,” I tell her.
“True.” She takes another sip of juice. “But if there’s anything I’ve learned from these kids today, it’s that you just have to keep going. I lost my dad, the most important person in my life, but I can’t let that hold me back.”
At the mention of Bart’s death, I go still. I promised my father I wouldn’t tell Jodie that Bart was murdered. I know that. But my initial thought remains. Doesn’t Jodie have a right to know how her father really died so she can truly move on?
I look at her. She’s still drinking juice, the carton losing shape and making weird sounds as it runs out. She shakes it a few times, then goes for one last sip. Afterwards, she takes the straw out and puts it between her lips, chewing on it as she flattens the carton, just like she used to as a kid.
“What?” she asks when she catches me staring, the straw sticking out from the corner of her mouth.
“Nothing,” I say as I turn my attention back to whittling.
There’s no way I can break such tragic news to her when she’s acting so carefree right now, when she and I are actually finally getting along. Why ruin that?
Maybe my father’s right. Maybe some things are better left buried.
Jodie takes the straw out of her mouth and lies down on the grass. A deep sigh leaves her lips as she stares at the clouds.
“This is nice.”
Nice? More like pure ecstasy according to her face, which I just can’t seem to stop watching. She looks so content, so relaxed, so innocent. And all I want to do is to kneel by her side, bring my face over hers and kiss her.
I tear my gaze away.
“You shouldn’t be lying on the grass around here, you know. You might squash a frog.”
At once, Jodie sits up. “Frog?”
She looks at the spot where she was just lying down and then all around her.
I laugh. “Silly. Frogs don’t come out to play on sunny afternoons.”
Jodie turns to me with narrowed eyes. “And here I thought you’d lost your mean streak.”
“And here I thought you weren’t scared of frogs anymore,” I retort.
“I’m not.” She crosses her legs and then her arms over her chest. “But I still find them gross.”
I touch my chin. “Maybe I should have asked Willy to catch a frog for you.”
“You mean that boy who took my lipstick and tried to draw on a girl’s face with it?”
I chuckle. “Willy is quite the mischief maker around here.”
“You mean like someone I know?”
I frown. “You aren’t exactly Miss Well-Behaved, you know.”
Jodie’s eyebrows furrow. “What was that?”
“You hated eating vegetables so you’d stuff them all in your mouth near the end of a meal and then spit them out in the sink.”
Jodie says nothing, but her forehead looks like it’s about to explode.
“Do you deny it?” I ask her.
“No,” she answers indignantly. “But at least I didn’t used to pee all over the toilet bowl instead of in it.”
My nostrils flare. Did she have to bring that up?
“Let me guess.” She flashes an evil grin. “You still do it.”
“Hell no. But I bet you still cheat at cards.”
Jodie’s fingers tighten around the juice carton in her hand. “I bet you still cheat at Monopoly.”
Actually, I haven’t played in ages. I’m sure I can beat her fair and square now.
I launch my next attack. “I bet you still drool in your sleep.”
She stands up and puts her hands on her hips. “I bet you still snore.”
“I bet you still have a crooked middle toe.”
She gapes. Am I right?
“Well, I bet you still have a tiny dick,” she hurls her words at me.
My eyebrows arch. Wait. Did she see it? When? That one time I was getting out of the water and my trunks fell because I’d filled my pockets with sand?
“Hmm?” I stand up and reach for the button of my pants as I give her a grin. “Care to see if you’re right?”
She turns her head away, but not before she’s had a chance to glance at my crotch. Fire tints her cheeks.
“Like I care,” she mutters before clenching her jaw and turning on her heel. Then she stomps off.
She still likes to make a grand exit. Just like last time.
I put my hands on my hips as I shout after her. “Where are you going?”
“To spend time with the kids,” she says. “They’re better company.”
I scratch the back of my head as I let out a sigh. Here we go again.
~
“You’re not still mad at me, are you?” I ask Jodie in the car when we’re only ten minutes away from her house.
She’s been quiet almost the whole ride, and so have I, but I can’t stand it any longer. In spite of Jodie’s struggles with hiking, we’ve had such a good day and I don’t want it to end with her still resenting me for remarks that I made with no ill intentions about things that happened long ago. It’s not like I was the only one who said stuff, and yet I’m not at all offended. We were just having fun, that’s all.