“Who are you?” I ask, opening a beer.
“Olive,” she says. “Who are you?”
“Duke.”
“That’s your name?”
“No weirder than yours.”
“Did you know a duke is the same thing as a prince?”
“I did not know that,” I admit. “Are you sure?”
“Yep,” she says.
“What are you doing here, Olive?” I ask.
“Waiting for my sister to come back.”
I take a drink and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Same.”
“You’re waiting for your sister?”
“Not anymore,” I say. “Now I’m waiting for my brother.”
“Oh.”
We sit there for a while. I’m not sure what to do with a girl her size. She’s way too old to bounce on my knee like a baby, and way too young to fuck. I don’t get the point of children. They have no purpose.
I finish my beer and open a new one. “Want one?” I offer.
“Sure,” she says.
“You ever had one?”
“Yeah,” she says. “And I’ve smoked a cigarette.”
“Hm,” I say, handing her the beer. “So, when’s your sister coming to get you?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I spent the night with a friend last night, and Blue said to get off the bus and come to Harper’s house and don’t go home until she comes to get me.”
“Oh,” I say, relaxing against the railing and opening my own beer. “So, you’re Harper’s problem. She’s not home yet. But I can take you to see my neighbors if you don’t want to hang out with me.”
She takes a little drink of the beer and makes a face, then tries to hide it when she sees me watching. “Why wouldn’t I want to hang out with you? Are you a weirdo?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe. Probably.”
“Oh,” she says, leaning back on her backpack against the far railing. “You don’t seem that weird to me.”
“Maybe that means you’re a weirdo, too,” I say, grinning and bumping her beer with mine.
“I’m not a weirdo,” she protests.
“How do you know?”
“Because I know me,” she says. “And I’m not a weirdo.”
“Maybe we can figure out if I’m a weirdo,” I say. “How could you tell?”