“You were younger than you are now? That’s hard to imagine.”
Watching my feet, I kept inching forward but I caught his grin out of the corner of my eye. “You know I’m not going to forget how old I am. You don’t need to keep reminding me.” When Daniel didn’t say anything, I realized that I might not be the one he was reminding.
The rough cement was scratchy under my bare feet as I shuffled along the wall, and there were a few loose pebble-sized pieces that dug into my heels. Odds were good that I’d be airborne before too long. Odds were equally good that Daniel wouldn’t follow me.
Every time I glanced back at him, I saw the same conflicted expression cloud his face. He wanted to come with me, but it wasn’t only about want. He wanted it to be okay to want to come with me; we both did. It was a fine line we’d been walking so far; I didn’t think I was the only one who noticed how unsteady things were becoming. That was one of the reasons I suggested leaving my roof. Maybe if we were moving, it’d be easier to avoid how close we were getting, since we both knew we couldn’t get any closer.
I reached the intersection where the wall separating my yard from his met the two neighbors behind us, and stood waiting for him. It felt like such a loaded question when I asked, “Are you coming with me?”
He fought his smile and lost. “Apparently. Which way?”
When I pointed left, his warm fingers closed around my hips again and I startled, but Daniel only helped me keep my balance as he stepped around and in front of me. His hands left my hips, but he caught hold of my hand rather than let me go entirely.
Medium deal?
Although I felt more uncertain of my balance than I had before I’d taken Daniel’s hand, I didn’t let go of it. Instead I looked up at him, barely a foot between us, and watched his smile slide away. It did that more and more often when he looked at me. Butterflies filled me, head to toe. “I’m trying to imagine you at sixteen.”
“I was a mess, like everyone is supposed to be at sixteen.” He said it almost like an accusation.
I couldn’t resist. “Would we have been friends?”
Daniel didn’t hesitate. “No. I definitely wouldn’t have been friends with you.” He flicked a look at me over his shoulder. “And no, you don’t get to pretend like you don’t understand what I mean.”
I stopped walking and our hands separated. “I wasn’t going to pretend anything.”
“No?” He stopped too. “Then why’d you ask me that? Do I wish we were both sixteen? No. Do I wish you were twenty-one or even eighteen?” He waited a breath. “Yeah, Jill. I wish that a lot.”
I guess I had been kind of fishing for the answer he gave me. Not necessarily the way he gave it. I wanted the crooked smile, the teasing response. I didn’t want the almost harsh honesty.
I was kind of surprised when he took my hand and started walking again, although maybe he’d finally noticed that I was wobbling like I was on a tightrope.
It was dark out despite the stars. The streetlights were on, but they didn’t give off enough light to make us more than shadowed silhouettes atop the wall.
Several houses later, I pulled Daniel to a stop and pointed to one that was half a block away.
“Who lives there?” he asked.
“No one, I think. It’s a foreclosure.”
Daniel turned to look at me. “What are we doing?”
My confidence in my brilliant idea was somewhat shaken by the tone of his voice. “You wanted a pool. I got you a pool.”
“You want to break into someone’s pool?” His face caught the moonlight just enough for me to see him raise an eyebrow. The tone he used that time made me smile.
“It’s not breaking in.” I really hoped it wasn’t considered breaking in. “And no one lives there to mind anyway.” Daniel was seconds from caving, I could tell. “But we can go back to my roof if you want. Maybe there will be a breeze.”
Daniel laughed once. Then again louder. We walked the last few yards to the house before stopping. “You do this a lot?”
“Nope.”
“It just popped into your head?”
“Maybe you’re a bad influence.”
“I’m definitely a bad influence.” Daniel dropped my hand and pulled his shirt off over his head before tossing it over the wall. I was suddenly grateful for how dark it was. The pterodactyls would have knocked me over if I saw him clearly without a shirt.
I flexed my toes and looked down. The pool was dark, the water rippling ever so slightly in the almost nonexistent breeze. I inhaled hot, dry air, and imagined how deliciously cool the water would feel. I’d been sweating even before we started walking, and my tank was sticking to me.
