“Jackass.”
“Bridge lover,” I tested.
He looked at me, shocked, his mouth and eyes wide open before busting out into the loudest guffaw.
“Cricket lover,” he bit back.
“What the hell!” I said.
“Oh what? You can dish it out but you can’t take it?”
“I don’t love your cousin, dude.”
“Sure,” he said, rolling his eyes and hammering another nail.
I cleared my throat. “So, do you?” I asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you like my sister?” I asked.
His face flamed red. “I do,” he stated simply.
Hearing it from his own lips made it so much more real to me.
“How much?” I asked, finishing the patched sub-roof.
He looked at me as he dragged over the pile of wood shingles. “Honestly?”
“Yeah,” I said, reaching for a shingle.
He scratched the back of his neck, afraid to spill.
“It’s okay, dude,” I told him.
He sighed. “Too much. Way too much.”
This confused me. “So, uh, do you wish you didn’t or something?”
“No way,” he claimed emphatically.
“What do you mean by ‘too much’ then?” I asked, my big brother side coming out full force.
“I just meant that I’m in love with your sister, and I don’t think she feels the same way and that...that eats at me.”
I let the news sink in, feeling a combination of impressed with Jonah, bewildered and confused.
“I think,” I began carefully, “that she may care for you more than you think.”
Jonah’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “Shut up,” he said seriously.
“I’m very serious, Jonah.”
“Oh my God,” he said, sitting up and back on his heels. His hand went to his chest and he turned to sit, as if he couldn’t believe what I’d told him. His head hung low as he studied the tops of his boots. He removed his wool cap, then put it right back on, as if he was unsure of what to do with his hands.
“You okay? I asked.
He smiled, but one corner turned up more than the other, like he was embarrassed. “I think so.”