Chapter 8

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"No, I will not!" Jeremiah angry-whispers adamantly. We're standing face to face outside of Pa's bedroom door holding a bottle of glue, and a bag of woolballs.

"Don't be such a pussy?" I hiss back.

"A pussy? Am not!"

"Then do it!" I push the materials in his direction and with a look of total foreboding he takes them out of my hand.

"Fine!" I clap my hands in girly joy, just to get a rise out of him. He returns my grin with a barely kept scowl. "But, if I lose my job for this, I'll make you eat this damn glue and a pack of staples covered in sawdust." 

"Damn," I whistle heavily. "How much they payin' you?" He flushes. "That much?" His scowl hardens, but I just keep on laughing.

"Whatever. I'm going in," Jeremiah says with what can only be false confidence. There's a long creak as he pushes the door open with his rough, but gentle hands.

The football material guy presses a toe onto the floorboards in the room and with a determined glare he steps all the way inside, leaving me looking after in utter shock. Go, Miah! I root mentally.

A little bit of shuffling and tense pauses later, Jeremiah is crouching out of the room, bending as not to hit the door. He straightens and gives me an accomplished look. "Told you I could do it." I'd be lying if I didn't say his smug grin is about the cutest thing I've ever seen. I just about want to kiss it off for being so obnoxiously cute.

There's a loud snort- probably Pa snoring- and J's grin falls to the floor and he's already halfway down the hall before I recover from laughing.

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