I am overwhelmed by my own brilliance. True, I'm usually the only person who realises that I'm being brilliant; still, I'm blown away right now.
I built myself a ladder up the side of the Croft's house!
Well, technically, I just attached some brackets to the stone to get the strands of ivy I tore loose back into their places, but I did it in a sneaky way that now makes it super easy to climb up the wall if you know where these brackets are. It is my wall now, and I plan to use it! I won't think about the weirdness of that statement too much.
No outsider could randomly see my ladder and just climb it; the brackets aren't visible unless you dig for them among the leaves; besides, home invasions are not something that ever occurs in Egret's Rest. Still, I was very careful.
When I finished my task, I went to my room, took a shower and then I whistled for Kira to let her know that I'll meet her at the gate in ten minutes, which gave me enough time to unpack the dishwasher. I mean "whistled for" quite literally. Grandpa Alistair taught me a technique where you tuck in your lower lip and blow over it in a sharp puff of breath. It produces a loud, shrill, bloody annoying sound that cuts right through bone and marrow.
He uses it to call his sheepdogs, and it works really well; it works just as well on Kira. If I call her by name, she generally ignores me or hides, but when I whistle like that, she charges at her window to glare at me with flushed cheeks and narrowed eyes. Cutest thing ever! It's very effective.
Well, that ten minutes passed about three years ago, and I'm still standing at her gate, sweating like I've sprung a leak. For a while, I watched the Olsen, Winslow and Marple kids (three boys and a girl ranging from about eight to 11) riding their skateboards in the street. They were trying really hard to learn to ollie, and when it became clear that there was soon going to be blood and missing teeth, I stepped in and demonstrated the easiest way to them. You snap down hard on the tail of your board, pull your knees up as high as you can, level the board with your front foot and land. No problem!
We even had a little lesson where I ran beside each of them in turn, ready to grab them if they fell while trying. I'm proud to say that they are now doing ollies all over the place like pros. It's not that long ago that the guys and I taught them how to ride. Next, I'll teach them the kickflip.
I'm sitting on the low double pillars where our front wall joins the Crofts', admiring my students, when sounds of screaming catapult me to my feet. It is Mrs Henderson, three houses along from ours on the road circling the small children's park, and this time her meltdown is not because I used my superior styling skills on that naked stone girl pouring water into her fish pond. The cause of her distress is Rampant, her very aptly named black Labrador.
Whenever he gets a chance to escape from the yard (usually when Mrs Henderson is entering or leaving with her car and doesn't tie him up for the event), he makes a break for it, and it turns into a chase scene from a Disney movie. If the dog could talk, he'd be shouting: "bird, bird, bird!" chasing after a bird, just to switch direction and go: "butterfly, butterfly, butterfly!" with his tongue lolling happily from his wide open mouth.
I've seen Mrs Henderson run up and down and back and forth on many occasions, trying in vain to catch her excited dog. It's really entertaining, but I do eventually help her. She needs the exercise, though. If she didn't run after Rampant on occasion, she would permanently be staring at her computer screen, searching the internet for ways to punish me and my friends for our transgressions.
Besides, I've shown her my proven technique to catch her dog over a hundred times. I don't get why she never tries it. It's not even nearly as hard as doing an ollie, and just look at how quickly the kids got it. Mrs Henderson could still do it in her designer clothing and high heels... she wouldn't even break a nail. Maybe I should wear some of her clothes next time and prove it to her.
Well, right now I'm wearing swimming trunks, flip-flops and a black T-shirt with bright red, spikey letters shouting BAKA! It will have to do. I step into the road, and when I'm well within Rampant's line of sight, I make a big production of collapsing on the tarmac, my arms and legs spread wide. The universal signal for I'm dead.
It's like laying a honey trail for ants; ten seconds, and I'm being slobbered over by the friendly animal, and after a nice cuddle, I pick the dog up - even though he is becoming way too big and heavy to carry - and take him back to his home.
"Thank you, Ethan, thank you!" Mrs Henderson gushes, and I hope she will remember this moment of intense relief and gratitude next time she wants to rat me out to my dad. She probably won't; she cannot even remember the highly successful I'm Dead manoeuvre!
I return to my position of gatekeeper, and there is still no Kira. At first, I'm a bit irritated because it's hot, and the refreshing effect of my shower has long gone. I want to go for that swim. My irritation disintegrates in a sudden wave of panic that something might've happened to Kira. She's not generally the tardy kind, and she tends to be a bit clumsy at times. She could've had an accident and might be standing on her head in the chest freezer again!
Jolted into action, I grab my towel off the wall, vault the gate and run to their kitchen door, relief swamping my brain, making my voice a little high when I charge inside and see Kira at the kitchen table, packing a cooler bag.
"What are you doing?!" I shout because I'm still hyped on imagination-induced adrenaline, and my mind hasn't received the memo to chill yet. "I've been waiting for you for ages and ages!"
I'm standing next to her before I've even fully registered that I'm in their kitchen, and Kira wisely shoves the last tiny piece of chicken left on the cutting board into my mouth. She was making sandwiches! Kicks makes the most amazing sandwiches. I could kiss her! She'd probably stab me with the knife she has in her hand, but I'd die happy.
"I have the best girlfriend," I grin, looking at the cooler bag filled with stuffed plastic containers.
"Awesome!" Kira says cheekily, moving to the sink to wash the last of the items she'd used to make our lunch. "Does that mean we're done with this weird exp-"
"Shut up," I scoff, not letting her finish such a blasphemous sentence, and zipping the cooler bag, I pull its strap over my shoulder. "Ready to go now?"
"Yes, little boy," she says, rolling her eyes, and I swear, I just want to eat her. "Let's go!"
Looking at her, I can feel a warmth spread through my heart, which is not kind to my over-heated body. Kira is wearing the ridiculous roaring turtle T-shirt Deli designed for a fundraiser for the turtle sanctuary, and I know it means that she's comfortable enough to be herself now.
"Why is it a turtle?" I ask the same question I always ask her when she's wearing this, her favourite shirt. "The turtle sanctuary has a gazillion other marine animals in there, very few turtles. And why is it roaring? Seriously, Kicks, turtles growl, they don't roar..."
"Yes, they do!" Kira huffs. "Don't Google it," she adds, turning a shade of pink that ensures that the next thing I'm going to Google will be roaring turtles.
We hit the road, and the first chance I get, I take her hand in mine. Feeling the delicate softness of her fingers, all my stress almost immediately roll away. I forget the rugby match, the heat, the ache in my bones. There's only me and Kira and the cool breeze tickling through my hair. I know I'm grinning like a psycho, but I cannot help myself.
I'm living the dream, Baby!
She didn't resist when I took her hand, and I see that and her outfit as a sign of progress. The few times I glance at her, I can see her bite her lip to stop herself from smiling. I know when she is dying to laugh, and she is holding it in hard right now.
Did she do something to the sandwiches?!
No, she would never be that mean... Something is tickling her heart, though, and I'm about to tell her to let me in on the joke when I notice Burlap, Lurch, Tonia, Jet and Barn gathered in the shade at the foot of the hill, waiting for us.
I barely noticed the road that brought us here; holding Kira's hand put me on some kind of blissful trip, and the little more than 1km we walked passed unnoticed beneath my feet.
"It's about friggin' time! We're this close to melting," Jet complains, showing the closeness of the imminent melting by bringing the tips of his thumb and forefinger together. When he narrows his eyes, looking at Kira's hand in mine, I'm vaguely concerned that he might be a little jealous. I know he likes Kira, but not half as much as I do; besides, he prefers to be surrounded by a harem, and he is not in the market for a committed relationship.
Kira is my forever girl.
The guys have always had an unspoken rule that if two or more of us like the same girl and she likes one of us back, the others step aside. Though Kicks probably doesn't have those kinds of feelings for me... yet... I can safely say that she has even less of it for Jet. That rule also applies if one of us falls for a girl and makes it known; the rest of us will not get in the way of that, even if the girl suddenly takes a liking to one of us instead. We take care of each other when we're not trying to maim each other.
I know that at least some of Jet's lack of relationship standards has to do with the fact that his parents make up in money for what they lack in morals, and his last girlfriend treated him like a possession. She was an extremely unhealthy choice, much older and severely dominating. She really messed with the guy's head; it took us a while to get him to see that he needed to be rid of her.
Burlap gives me an approving smile and hoists another cooler bag, resting at his feet, onto his shoulder, turning to start the walk up the winding footpath to the bridge. He waves the book he'd been reading at some point at Barn and continues the important discussion they were having before we came along. He is probably trying to make Kira feel more at ease by luring the attention away from us.
He often does considerate things like that, and he knows how worried I am about Kira hanging out with all of us because I mentioned it to him when I messaged him after my shower. When we're all together like this, she usually pulls a disappearing act. I want her to be comfortable around my friends. Burlap's reply was, as always, that he's got my back, and he is proving that fact now by luring the horde away and engaging them in this highly intellectual discussion.
"There's no way that Snap, Crackle and Pop would be able to stand against Cap'n Crunch in a battle," Burlap informs Barn. "A crunch is way more aggressive than a snap or a crackle or a pop. When you crunch something, it snaps, crackles and pops and becomes powder."
"No, no way, man!" Barn shakes his head with enough force to rip it right off his neck and fly up the hill; I'm impressed that it is tenaciously staying put. "It would be three young guys against one old fart! Cap'n Crunch is an old dude with a moustache and a spoon! What could he do?"
"Against three pixies?"
"They're not pixies!"
"Are they wannabe smurfs?"
"They're not blue!"
"Exactly!"
Okay, I'm convinced now! We really did take too long to get here, and they were all about to melt. These two weirdos' brains are already starting to leak. Burlap is the most level-headed person I know. He never takes part in any of the really stupid things we do and is always ready to drive us to the ER, but when it comes to nonsensical debates, he is the undefeated champion. The guy's brain is a never-ending pit of garbage information, and he is not afraid to use it. His skills are impressive.
I'm still seriously considering whether being able to do one loud crunch would be more effective than making individual snaps, crackles and pops when Jet grabs a stick off the ground and pokes Barn in the ribs with it.
"Seriously!" he yells. "I've been listening to you two spit garbage forever now! Everybody knows that if there were a cereal war, Tony Tiger would eat all the other cereal mascots alive."
"Even Toucan Sam?" Lurch wants to know, finding a stick of his own and tossing one at Barn, smacking him in the head with it. "Tigers cannot fly."
I cannot tell whether Barn is grateful for the weapon or wants revenge for being wounded by its delivery, but he strikes out, crossing swords with both Jet and Lurch. I am no longer sure who is representing which cereal because it seems to be a free for all brawl. I can see Burlap smirking, falling back and lifting his book. His job here is done. He can now guard our beer and read his book, certain that Kira and I are safe from chaos... at least until I do something stupid.
Lurch has Tonia on his shoulders, and he is shouting at Barn and Jet to be careful not to hit her. It says a lot about the girl's trust in Lurch and her bravery that she stoically remains sitting on her boyfriend's shoulders, looking like she's starring in a hair care commercial. That is something about her that has always baffled me. She hangs out with us a lot, and we get up to all kinds of crazy things, but her hair never gets messed up, and her make-up never smudges. She's always daintily picking at our seriously awesome snacks like she's a bird finding seeds between rocks.
She is always perfect, always pretty.
She is like an unreal mirage of a person. She has thick brown hair, framing her pretty face in waves and spirals, almost reaching her shoulders and warm brown eyes with long lashes that makes her look a little sleepy. She's perfect for Lurch. As one of a string of children in a large household consisting of a couple of generations crammed into one house, Lurch is not all that used to undivided attention. Tonia gives him plenty, to an extent where there is no balance in their relationship. Burlap and I have tried to tell him a few times that he needs to make room for her and her needs, but he just doesn't get it.
The guy is not mean or selfish; he is just oblivious, and the more she gives, the more he takes, and since she is not demanding anything in return, it simply doesn't occur to the dolt to sacrifice anything for her sake. She has done him a lot of good in the 11 months they've been together, but I'm not so sure he is doing her much good. Yes, he showers her with affection, and he'll never cheat on her, but I'm not convinced that she likes the extreme levels of PDA he tends to instigate, and sometimes she looks more stressed than happy.
I like Tonia, she is kind and friendly, and let's face it, she has the perfect tan and the perfect body, she is pretty awesome in many ways, but she doesn't make my heart leap into my throat or set my pulses racing or cause me to grin like a fool... I prefer all my girls to be Kira.
I hold Kira's hand a little tighter while I watch my friends running ahead, being idiots having sword fights with sticks. It looks like fun, but right now, I'm in Heaven! Sure, it feels a little like hell temperature-wise, but still, it has Kira in it, and she's holding my hand, and when I move my fingers and our wrists touch, I can feel her pulse fluttering against mine.
Burlap has completely given up on the Cereal Wars and is walking with Kira and me, reading his book the way he often does when he is at a particularly good part and doesn't want to stop reading but has to walk. I do what I always do when he is read-walking; I guide him with a subtle pluck on his shirt here and a nudge there, preventing him from falling over low boulders and into holes. The guy is so used to me being there he doesn't even try to watch where he's going anymore.
Though there is a lot more shade walking in the forest than there had been walking from the house, the humidity is starting to get to me, squeezing the air from my lungs. My breath burns as it passes through my nostrils. My hand is starting to form a film of sweat where it connects with Kira's, and I wonder if it is grossing her out. I would love to let go for a second and wipe my hand, but I'm afraid that I won't get hers back again if I do.
I nearly cry with relief when I start to catch shiny glimpses of water sparkling in the gaps between the trees, and I hear the tempting gurgle of the brook. We are almost at the bridge. It is just a short uphill path from there to the waterfall and its massive pool.
When we reach the bridge, I let go of Kira to guide her forward with a hand on the small of her back, and she suddenly comes to a grinding halt, one foot on the bridge and the rest of her in front of me and Burlap and she is not budging an inch.
"What's wrong?" I ask a little desperately. I can smell the water from here, and I am dying, drowning in my own sweat. Why is she stopping?! She shakes her head, turning to look at me as if she is Little Red Riding Hood and I am the wolf.
"There is no way I'm going on this bridge with you. Run to the waterfall and wait there; I'll follow."
She's got to be kidding me! There is water less than three metres from me, and I need to be in it! Now!
"This again?" I snort.
"Yeah! This again! I don't want to get thrown into the pool under the bridge."
I explained it to her so well yesterday, and she knows I'm right! The water up at the waterfall is cold enough to shrink Bobby and the Babes into non-existence, and Kira doesn't have a lot in the line of body fat to keep her warm; it must be even colder for her. We all need this pre-soak. The only reason my friends are not in the pool under the bridge already is because they are too busy being sword-fighting cornflakes and probably forgot to jump in.
"I won't throw you in."
"Yeah, right!"
"I promise," I say, and to show how hard I'm promising, I slip the cooler bag strap off my shoulder and hand it to Burlap so that I can swear an oath with my hand on my heart. Kira is not impressed; she is just standing in front of me, looking up at me like a mother ready to scold her toddler, who is twice as big as she is.
"What are you doing?" she frowns.
"Promising you that I won't throw you in... well," I grin, thinking that I should probably be at least a little bit realistic here. "Not today."
"If you break your promise, Ethan Fletcher, I'm out of here," she tells me, creeping onto the bridge one step at a time, giving me deadly looks over her shoulder after every step. "And I'm taking my sandwiches with me."
"Don't you trust me?" Wow! After all these years of me looking out for her, she thinks I would throw her into the pool when I made such a beautiful pledge... and seriously, not the sandwiches! "I promised!" and I'm going to keep that promise, which is why I gave Burlap the cooler bag so that I can have my hands free to pick Kira up, step on the railing of the bridge and jump down into the pool with her in my arms.
The water is refreshingly cold. It takes my breath away for a few seconds, and then I'm in Heaven, the heat fog lifting from my brain and my lungs finally able to draw deep breaths of fresh air again. For a second, Kira clings to me, enhancing my bliss, and then she pushes against my chest to swim the few feet to the rocks near the side of the pool. She hurries out of the water and onto the soaked rocks from where she glares at me, the way she always does, but the glare lacks commitment; she even looks slightly relieved.
Barn, Jet and Lurch toss their swords into the bushes and run back down the track to the bridge to jump in too. Lurch has Tonia in his arms, where she screams and giggles, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.
"You promised," Kira is looking a little sulky, pouting her lower lip at me, and I almost feel bad now, but she'll thank me later. Actually, she already looks a lot more comfortable than she did when we were walking in the sun.
"Yeah, I kept my promise," I nod, agreeing with her. "I didn't throw you in."
"Ass!"
"Oh! I'm sorry!" I chuckle, stepping out of the pool and sitting down next to her with my feet close to hers in the water. "I know why you're mad; I promised that I'd strip you first next time." I reach out and tentatively grab hold of the hem of her T-shirt, pretending to be about to help her take it off.
"There's nothing to strip!" she shrieks, slapping my hands away. "I'm swimming like this today!"
"Seriously? Aren't you wearing your bathers?" That is just depressing! I thought she was starting to feel comfortable about being herself in this relationship. She has the cutest two-piece she always wears. It is not overly sensual and sexy like the stringy things Tonia and Amber always wear, but she looks amazing in it. Hot and innocent both at the same time.
The bottom is a small dark green short, and the top, covered in palm trees against a sunset, has a halterneck and leaves an enticing strip of her lower belly bare. She looks amazing in it. The green brings out the fiery highlights in her brown hair while matching her sparkling eyes.
I like the purple and black T-shirt she's wearing now, even if it is weird and looks like an advertisement for nuclear waste with the neon-green turtle on it because she wears it so often, it has come to represent her. I guess she could swim wearing it... she just did. I'm just disappointed because it feels like a step backwards.
"I like swimming like this," she shrugs, hugging her knees, and I know she's lying, though it does feel pretty good to sit here in the semi-shade wearing wet clothes, getting splashed by our friends turning the small pool into a jacuzzi by kicking really hard. Only Burlap is not in the pool; he is still stuck in his book, sitting on the bridge, with a cooler bag on either side of him. I wonder if he even knows where he is.
"Wow, really? Are you sure you're wearing enough? I could loan you my clothes too; I don't need any," I grumble, disappointed that she is not starting to settle into what we have at all.
"Whatever," she scoffs, rolling her eyes in that haughty way she has that always makes me grin, half amused and half annoyed. "You know, Ethan, unlike you, I might not be an exhibitionist who likes to walk around naked with my curtains open. Ever thought of that?"
Yeah, I am well aware of that. The word exhibitionist was definitely not created with her in mind. I like having her here with me, close enough for my arm to brush against hers and to see the goosebumps stand out on her skin. It makes her seem vulnerable and even more delicate than usual. I should really try harder with the curtains at home.
Most of the girls I know are always trying to get me out of my clothes. Kicks is the only one who tries to keep me in as many layers as possible. She is not comfortable with showing off her own body and definitely doesn't want others to show her theirs. I respect that, and I'll make room for that.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry," I whisper and reaching out, I run my fingertips along her brow and the side of her face, lifting stray strands of wet hair from her soft skin. "I'll do something about that. I promise."
"Thank you," Kira breathes, looking baffled, her soft lips slightly parted, her eyes huge and bright, and suddenly, I am fighting a myriad of urges bubbling like streams of soda from the depths of my heart, each bubble yelling at me to kiss the girl.
"Yeah," I smile, sliding my hand from the top of her head down her mussed-up hair to her shoulder. I meant it, but right now, this moment is stealing my breath, making my voice sound strange in my ears, and then the trusty impulse to tease the girl valiantly breaks through the cloud of desire, saving me from myself.
"When we get home, I'm stealing your curtains."
♂♀