“He did not show me his dick, Margie,” I said firmly. Technically, I wasn’t lying.
I turned back up another dirt path leading back towards our house and made room for a group of fourth graders dressed as the Avengers.
“Where are you going?” Margie asked.
“We’re going home,” I told her. “You’ve got enough candy.”
“What? Oh, come on, sis!”
“You can have mine if that makes you feel better,” I told her. “But I want dinner.”
Truthfully, I wanted to get Margie and her big mouth off the streets. She had no qualms about raising her voice and trying to embarrass me to get information out of me, and I didn’t want her putting all my business out there, whether or not she was simply speculating.
“So, why don’t you go back to Mr. Cox’s?” she asked. “I bet he would feed you.”
“Margie!” I replied, trying not to let her see me laughing. “Would you stop?”
“You stop!” she said. “Just admit that you like him and that’s why you were in his house!”
“No!”
“Fine,” she said, stepping in front of me and crossing her arms. “I guess I’ll just have to tell mom and dad then.”
I glared. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
I sighed heavily. Was there really any reason to hide it from her? It was probably actually a better idea to tell her and swear her to secrecy than to continue lying and have her constantly trying to pry the truth out of me.
“Fine,” I said. “We…kissed.”
Margie’s jaw dropped like the mouth on Ghost Face from the Scream movies.
“Why do you look so shocked?” I asked her. “I thought you knew it?”
“I didn’t actually think you did!” she replied. “I was just teasing you.”
Great, I thought.
“Ugh, Margie. You are such a pain in my butt!”
“You kissed Mr. Cox?!” she hissed, getting closer to me. I guess now that she realized it was actually true, she knew she should keep her voice down.
“Yes,” I replied simply. “Now can we drop it, please?”
“Isn’t that like—illegal?” she asked as I kept moving towards home.
“If I was still his student? Yes. But I’m an adult now and so is he, so…no,” I told her. “And besides, I don’t think it’s going to go any further.”
“Why not?” Margie exclaimed. “He’s so hot!”
“You need to calm down!” I scolded her. “You’re only thirteen.”
“Did you forget what it’s like to be thirteen, sis?” she laughed. “I like—know things, ok? I have hormones too.”
“Yeah, okay,” I sighed. “You’re right. He’s hot, he’s dreamy, he’s…manly—”
“So, what’s the problem?”