“I didn’tmakeher hold my hand.I said I didn’t trust that pharmacist, and I certainly wasn’t going to go into a cubicle with him and let him do God only knew what to me, and then Indira said she’d go with me, andshedecided she didn’t like him either, and she wanted to hold my hand, and she said she’d buy me one of those Toll House ice cream cookie sandwiches if I was brave, and—I don’t have to explain myself to you!”
He shook his hair out of his face.He was smirking.
“Also, I’m thinking about taking up smoking,” I told him.
“You are so weird.”
“Maybe I’ll smoke cigars.”
Back to playing the game now, Keme looked like he might not answer, but then he said, “You tried to make Bobby arrest that guy who was smoking on the beach.”
“Because it was a public beach!I’d only smoke inside.In a smoking jacket.I’m not a loser.”
It’s incredible how many things a teenager can communicate with only their eyebrows.
“Do you think I should take Bobby to a club?”I asked.
“I don’t know.Do you want Bobby to break up with you?”
“Hey!”
“You asked Seely to turn down the music at the Otter Slide last week.”
“Because my watch told me that if I was exposed to that volume for eight hours, I might experience temporary hearing loss.”
“You don’t like to dance.”
“I mean, not with my legs.”
His game ended.That gave him an opportunity to look me in the eye and say, “Go away.”
“Then you’d be all alone.”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, what if I joined the Army?”
“The Salvation Army,” Keme muttered.He stood and turned off the Xbox and headed for the kitchen.
I followed him.He went straight to the counter, peeled back the foil from the blueberry crisp Indira had made, and got a fork out of the drawer.
“Indira’s going to murder you if she finds out you ate that straight out of the pan.”
Keme hesitated, but only for a second.“Not before I murder you for narcing on me.”
As he dug into the crisp, I couldn’t help it.I started to grin.
He tried to enjoy his dessert.And, honestly, he lasted longer than I thought.Finally, though, he glowered at me and said, “You are so weird.What is up with you today?”
“It’s your birthday!”
I couldn’t help it; I veered into Millie levels.
Keme’s eyes widened.Some of the color left his face.The fork dangled from his hand, forgotten.
“It’s your birthday,” I said.“It’s your birthday.Keme, it’s your birthday!”
“I know it’s my birthday.”He glanced around.“Shut up.”
