Doubtful, Ash.
“You should’ve seen me before the accident,” I explained as I walked over and sat in the hammock beside him. “Then you’d see how ugly and broken I’ve become.”
“Why do you do that?” he questioned, his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
“Do what?”
“Be so mean to yourself.”
I swung in the hammock, embarrassed by his comment. “I don’t know.”
“Well, as your newfound friend, I think it’s only right for me to tell you to stop being an asshole to yourself. The worldhas enough assholes. You don’t have to be your own, too. You can have an asshole, but you don’t have tobean asshole.”
I wanted to argue with him, but he wasn’t wrong. Sure, I had a handful of bullies, but the biggest one in my life was the one staring back at me in the mirror each day. I hated that he called me out on it, though.
Was this what it meant to be friends with Ash? A life of him wanting me to... like myself? That seemed a bit dramatic. I was really succeeding in the self-loathing ballpark. The last thing I needed was a friend to tell me I deserved better treatment.
“What’s your favorite word?” he blurted out, as if that was the next task for him to tackle after noting how I bullied myself. His mind was like a buzzing bee that kept whipping around from topic to topic.
“What?”
“Your favorite word. What’s your favorite word?”
“I don’t have a favorite word.”
He paused his rocking in the hammock and leaned in my direction, disgusted by my response. “You don’t have a favorite word?!”
“Nope.”
“But you like to read and write a lot?”
“Yup.”
“Karla, you need a favorite word. It’s like the main thing a writer and reader need in their lives.”
“What’s your favorite word?”
“Pineapple.”
I chuckled. “Pineapple?”
“Yes, pineapple. It’s such a ridiculous word, equal parts goofy and tasty. Plus, I have a thing for words that have morethan one word in them. I call them wordlets. Cutlets of words hidden in a bigger word.”
“Well, why isn’t your favorite word a watermelon?”
“Because I hate melon and I hate drinking water.”
This boy was weird.
Who knew weird could be cute?
“No one hates water,” I argued. “It keeps us alive. More than half our bodies are made up of water.”
“Yeah, I get the perks of it, I do, but...” He shivered in disgust. “It’s so... bland.”
“Of course it is! It’swater!”
“Exactly. Don’t even get me started on sparkling water. Why would I want my bland drink to sparkle in my mouth?”
