‘You’re making this easier than I thought you would,’ he says. And then he blushes. ‘I mean, you’re nice.’ He looks like he could kick himself. ‘No – nice isn’t what I meant.’ He realizes he just implied that he’d assumed I wasn’t nice, and he looks like he wants to turn inside out with shame.
‘It’s OK. This should have been much weirder than it’s turning out to be,’ I say. I gesture to my stuff again. ‘I mean, I’m the one who sat in the middle of a forest for the better part of a week just in case you showed up.’ Now I want to kick myself. ‘Just forget I said that.’
‘Only if you’ll forget I was watching you the whole time,’ he admits sheepishly.
I nod and laugh nervously. What is wrong with me? Guys never make me nervous.
‘So we’re both creepy,’ I say.
He shakes himself and takes a step back. ‘It’s getting late. You’ve usually left by now. And – listen.’ He looks tortured again. ‘This is a National Forest, and my family is out here illegally.’
‘I haven’t told anyone about you,’ I say immediately. ‘And I won’t.’
‘Thanks,’ he says. And then he’s gone. A few rustling ferns and – poof.
I can’t believe it. ‘Bo!’ I shout.
I see his head peek out from the underbrush. ‘Yeah?’ he says, sounding almost hopeful.
‘Meet me here tomorrow,’ I say.
He smiles and does the poof thing again.
I’ve got Grandma on the ropes.
‘Give me all your sevens,’ she says, like this is some kind of hold-up.
‘Go. Fish.’
I get up and dance. Grandma has lost. I am not a graceful winner. Not since this is the first game of Fish I’ve ever won off that conniving old cheat.
‘I won! In your face with a can of mace,’ I chant.
I am five years old. I am taunting an old woman. I can’t sink any lower.
‘Hi!’ a cheerful voice calls from the front of the house. ‘It’s Mila and Aura-Blue!’
‘Come on in!’ Grandpa calls back.
I’m still dancing around Grandma as they enter.
‘How lovely to see you girls,’ Grandma says as she catches me and pulls me down next to her on the settee.
‘You owe me one dollar,’ I remind Grandma. I look at Mila and Aura-Blue. ‘What can the reigning queen of Go Fish do for her subjects?’
‘We wanted to know if you – er – had a job?’ Aura-Blue says haltingly.
Mila’s lips purse with displeasure at Aura-Blue’s lacklustre opening pitch.
‘Summer kids don’t apply for jobs while we’re in town because that could potentially take money away from people who live here and need the income,’ Mila explains.
‘People like me,’ Aura-Blue adds without a hint of embarrassment. She’s working class, but obviously secure enough in herself to know she’s got way more to offer than a trust fund. I smile with her. I could really get to like this girl.
‘But it gets boring just hanging out for three months, right?’ Mila continues.
Um, sure? I nod for her to continue.
‘So instead, some of you summer kids volunteer a few days a week at the women’s shelter the next town over in Longridge,’ Aura-Blue says. ‘I’m doing it this year too for college credit, and we thought you might like to come with us.’