“I’m glad you agree,” he whispered into the silence, apparently taking my small action as agreement. His lips moved against me as he spoke, his beard tickling the sensitive skin of my neck.
Despite myself I laughed lightly, because even though I was freezing, I could appreciate the bizarreness of the situation. Here I was, standing in a near-freezing lake with Duane Winston, oddly enjoying myself. The last time we’d been alone together in a body of water, it was the river behind his house over the summer of my fourteenth year. I’d de-panted him and thrown his swimsuit in a tree. Now we were both de-panted and freezing.
Nothing about it made any sense. I needed it to make sense, so I asked him to explain it to me.
“Duane, you remember when we were kids? And we used to argue about everything? I mean, it didn’t matter what it was. If I said the sky was blue you would say it was purple.”
“Sometimes the sky is purple. Right now it’s indigo, almost black. You can’t just make a unilateral statement that the sky is blue.”
“See? This is what I’m talking about. I don’t know if we can call a truce. All we know how to do is argue.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Jessica,” he whispered, “arguing with you is one of my favorite things to do.”
My heart set off at a gallop and my breath caught in my throat. It wasn’t his words so much as how he said them, all soft and sincere. I had to blink several times to keep from melting against him. How it was possible for me to melt when I was surrounded on three sides by near-freezing water made me again question my mental fitness.
I cleared my throat and endeavored to stay focused. “One of your favorite things to do? You mean like playing practical jokes on me? I think you’re trying to rewrite the past.”
Again, I felt his small smile on my skin. “You liked playing jokes on me, too. Don’t deny it.”
Without really meaning to I found myself grinning and reminiscing. “I liked your reaction to the jokes, like that time I switched out the cake part of your strawberry shortcake with a sponge and you took a bite.”
“Or how about the time you tricked me into thinking you were eating flies?”
I giggled. “That’s right, I’d forgotten about that. Best use of raisins ever. And you were so grossed out, I thought you were going to throw up.”
We were quiet for stretch, perhaps both lost to our memories of each other. It occurred to me that maybe he wasn’t trying to rewrite the past. Maybe he was encouraging me to see our shared history in a new light.
I was speaking my thoughts before I realized words had left my mouth. “I loved how you’d lose your temper and threaten me with retribution.”
“Exactly. And I always kept my promises.”
“Yes, you did…”
We were quiet again, the sound of gently lapping water against the embankment our only companion. But then his hands slid lower, grazing my hips, and providing just the right amount of sobriety.
I shook my head and leaned a fraction of an inch forward, clearing my throat before speaking my mind. “If we did start over, why do you even want to be friends with me? Didn’t you call me a brat earlier?”
He nodded and his arms shifted, which made his hold feel more like a hug. “Yeah, I called you a brat, because you were acting like one.”
I grunted my irritation. “I wasn’t the one who lied and I’m allowed to be angry. I don’t know,” I stopped, swallowed, and debated my next words before continuing, “I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you.”
“I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m not sorry.”
“You’re not sorry?” My voice sounded loud and screechy to my ears and I gritted my teeth. Despite being surrounded by frigid temperatures, my blood pressure spiked.
“Nope. Not sorry we kissed.”
I laughed again, but this time it was because I was peeved. “So you’re telling me you’re not sorry for making me think you were Beau?”
He shrugged, nuzzled my neck, warming me. My brain told me to stop him, but my body vetoed, To hell with pride, I’m freezing!
At length he said, “I never said I was Beau and you didn’t ask.”
I opened mouth and a small sound of incredulity escaped. “You’re unbelievable.”
He ignored my statement. “And I don’t want to be your friend.”
“You don’t want to be my friend? Then what are we talking about?”
“We’re talking about starting over.”
“To what purpose?”
He hesitated for just a second then he said, “Because we should see each other more often. I think we’re suited.”
I wasn’t surprised.
I was flabbergasted.
I was sure I must’ve heard him wrong.
Then I realized my mouth was wide open.
Then I realized a full minute had passed and I’d said nothing.
I blinked at the stars in the sky. “I’m sorry, I think I must misunderstand your meaning. So…what do you mean?”
“Just what I said. We’re suited for each other.”
“You think we’re suited?”
“Yes.”
“For what? Debating the color of the sky? Practical joke wars?”