Calmly, Carefully, Completely(21)

“No, but she touched him.” He heaves a sigh. “She didn’t even try to punch him in the throat.”

Fine. I can be a little aggressive. It all started after my attack with some self-defense classes. Then I realized I’m really good at martial arts. I can’t help if it some people make me want to drop-kick them.

“That’s a start,” Mom hums.

I shake my head. I’m not starting anything. He’s just a man that doesn’t make me want to run in the other direction. That’s all he is. He’s nothing more than that.

It’s strange, because if I judged him based solely on his appearance, I’d be running away as fast as I could.

“He’s a good kid, it looks like,” Dad says on a heavy sigh. “He made a stupid mistake.”

“He’s kind of hot with all the tattoos,” Mom says. She giggles, and I hear my dad growl. She shrieks, and I walk away. They don’t need an audience for that part.

I stop by Lincoln’s room on the way to mine and knock on his doorframe. “Enter,” he calls, even though the door is open. He’s sitting on his floor stacking blocks to make a tower. But Link’s towers are not like other towers. They are complicated works of art based on numerical theories and stuff I don’t understand.

“You have fun at camp today?” I ask. We were only there for setup, and camp won’t truly begin until tomorrow, but he got to walk around and look at the people he’ll see in the morning. I step into his room and sit gingerly on the edge of a chair.

He nods. He looks in my direction, but he doesn’t make eye contact. He doesn’t look people in the eye often. When he does, it’s usually a mistake. And often ends in a meltdown.

“Did you meet any nice boys?”

He nods again. He only talks when he wants to.

“I love you,” I say. He looks up, almost meeting my gaze. Instead, his eyes dart toward my ear.

“I love you, too,” he says quietly.





Pete



The fire is hot against my legs, making them itch. I scratch, the sting of my fingernails easing some of the discomfort. I have been sitting here since she left, and it’s been a little while. For a few minutes there I thought she might come back. Hell, it’s probably entirely in my head; she’s not interested in me. I look at the big house where she lives. It’s f*cking perfect. White picket fence. Acres of land. Rolling pastures. A regular Anne of Green Gables. I didn’t read the book. I watched the PBS series when my mom was watching it. It came on after Sesame Street. There was nothing else to do but sit with her and watch it. My brothers gave me a hard time about it, but I didn’t care.

The log I’m sitting on shakes as someone sits down beside me. My heart leaps until I realize it’s just Phil. He runs a hand through his too-long hair and groans. “How’s it going, Pete?” he asks.

The fire is just embers now. It’s still hot, but it’s not flaming. “Going okay.”

“You did a good job tonight.” He looks at me out of the corner of his eye.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“The camp actually starts tomorrow.” He looks at me. “You ready?”

“I guess.” I shrug and kick at a rock with my toe.

“Did I see you talking with Bob?”

I look up. “Who’s that?”

He points toward the big house. “Bob Caster. The owner of the farm.”

“Oh, yeah.” I’ve never heard him called Bob. “He caught me talking to Reagan.” I smile. Just the thought of her makes me grin, and I haven’t laid a finger on her.