Until Harry(21)

I folded my arms across my chest. “That doesn’t sound like a promise to me.”

My uncle had a bright smile on his face as he shook his head at me and said, “I promise, I’ll keep all things Kale-related strictly between the two of us.”

I eyed my uncle, then stuck out my right hand, with my pinkie finger erect. “Make the unbreakable vow,” I said, my eyes narrowed.

My uncle laughed again. “I knew I’d regret buying you all those Harry Potter books.”

Say what? I inwardly balked. That was possibly the best decision he had ever made; I loved those books.

“Pinkie-swear,” I pressed. “It’s my version of the unbreakable vow.”

My uncle gnawed on his lower lip for a moment, then lifted his hand and hooked his pinkie finger around mine. “I, Harry Larson, pinkie-swear to you, Lane Edwards, on my honour, to never share any chats or spats about Kale Hunt to Kale or to any other living, breathing human.”

I overlooked his obvious amusement and focused on his words. “Good,” I said, nodding. “Now I don’t have to kill you.”

My uncle’s lip quirked. “A girl protecting her heart from possible love – what could conceivably go wrong?”

“Nothing,” I answered. “Absolutely nothing can go wrong; I’ve got it all figured out.”

“Are you sure about that?” my uncle questioned, scepticism laced throughout his tone. “Keeping feelings like the ones you have all bottled up will only hurt in the long run.”

I waved my uncle’s concerns off; I knew that telling Kale I liked him would be what would hurt because I was aware he didn’t like me back, not in that way. Based on that knowledge, I was certain my choice to keep him in the dark when it came to my feelings for him was the best decision. It was part of my love-Kale-from-a-distance plan.

“Trust me,” I said to my uncle. “My plan is foolproof.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his lips curling at the corner. “It sounds that way.”

I playfully shoved him. “I don’t want to talk about Kale anymore. I want to talk about the café Nanny just bought. Do you think she’d give me a summer job there?”

My uncle raised his brows. “You’re thirteen.”

“So?” I frowned. “I want to get out of the house, and working at Nanny’s new café would be perfect for that.”

“Why do you want to get out of your house?” my uncle asked.

“Because” – I dramatically sighed – “when Kale isn’t with Drew, he is with my brothers, and since he is my only real friend, I don’t have anything else to do when he isn’t around. I’m only allowed one new paperback book a week because Dad says they’re expensive, and I read quickly, so that only kills a few hours of my time. Mum and Dad never let me out on my own, and if by some miracle they do, Lochlan volunteers himself to keep an eye on me, as if I’m going to do bad stuff. It’s so annoying.”

“Your parents and your brothers just worry about you. You know that poor girl from the countryside that was raped and murdered was your age. She lived forty minutes away, and they still haven’t caught the son of a bitch that did it. You can’t blame everyone for being protective of you.”

No, I can’t, but being suffocated by everyone isn’t very protective either.

“Yeah, I know,” I grumbled.

“Why don’t you invite those girls you study with sometimes – Hannah and Sally is it?”

I snorted. “Anna and Ally?”

“Right.” My uncle snapped his fingers. “Those two, they seem nice.”

I shrugged. “They can be, but we had a bit of a fight in school the other day, and we haven’t made up yet.”

I didn’t know if we would make up either, because Anna had said some really mean things about my appearance. Ally didn’t stop her or defend me, so I took it that she agreed with Anna and what she thought of me. I tried not to let it bother me, but it was hard when Anna kept throwing the same horrible words around.

Fat. Ugly. Nerd.

They were simple words, only a few letters long, but they had an impact on me even if I didn’t want them to.

“Friends fight – it happens – but have a little faith; you’ll make up.”

I nodded for my uncle’s sake, adjusted my new glasses, and said, “Okay.”

“Atta girl,” he said, smiling.

I leaned back in the chair and glanced around my uncle’s kitchen, smiling too. “I love this house.”

“You do?” my uncle asked, surprise obvious in his tone.

I nodded. “It’s my favourite place. Didn’t I tell you that before?”

He shook his head. “Why is it your favourite place?”

“Because I have millions of cool memories of being here with you.” I smiled as I thought of a few. “Like that time we made a pillow fort out of the sofa cushions in the living room, or that time we flooded this room when we were filling water balloons to get my brothers out back.”

My uncle snorted. “Your Aunt Teresa was so mad at me over that last one.”

I smiled. “I know, but it was still a really great day.”

“It was,” he agreed, smiling fondly as he was no doubt thinking of my Aunt Teresa.