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She starts to laugh and playfully places a hand on my arm.
Her small and warm fingers feel like heaven.
“Well I definitely look at this stuff,” she says.
As she does so, she crosses her legs in front of me, one of them now bobbing through the air as she’s lying down. My eyes glide across her smooth skin, from the bottom of her short jeans all the way to the tips of her toes. How can she be so perfect?
“So that’s why you broke up with him? Because of his eyebrows?” I ask her.
“I broke up with him because he was a dingus! I don’t want someone like that!”
“Then what do you want, Emmy?”
She looks into my eyes and keeps caressing my arm with her small fingers. “Ugghh … I don’t know. I guess I want … what we have, Evan. Something like this! Like … look. We’re lying here and enjoying ourselves—talking, laughing. This is what I want! Why can’t guys be like this?” she tells me, not understanding the obvious.
I reach out and tap her gently on the shoulder. “Hello, Miss? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m right here.”
Emmy looks into my eyes for a moment, and then laughs. “No, don’t be silly! Not you! I meant like … a boy!”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I am a boy.” I smile.
“Why? Because you watch a lot of football, belch when you think I can’t hear you, and only have gray T-shirts?” She rolls her eyes.
“In part. But also…” I don’t finish the sentence, on purpose.
I watch as Emmy’s eyebrows travel far on her forehead as she tries to decipher what I meant.
“Oh, no, you did not! Evan Michael Davis, I know you did not just say to me what I think you just said!!” she shrieks, pretending to be scandalized, before getting up and grabbing one of her pink pillows. She starts hitting me playfully with it, giggling madly.
“No, no! I didn’t! Stop, please, have mercy!” I beg her, keeping up her game.
“Mercy?? No mercy!” she says before hitting me again with the pillow.
In the pretend scuffle on the bed, she climbs on top of me, and continues to attack me with the pink pillow. “What did you mean by that??” she calls out. “Tell me right now!!”
“Only that … oh, ugghh! Stop hitting me!! Only that I’m a boy, that’s all! Stop hitting me!!” I laugh.
“Only that you’re a boy??”
Whack!
The pink pillow smashes into me again, and I decide that I’ve had enough. I grab her wrists and take her by surprise. Not able to move at all anymore, her eyes grow immensely wide, and her mouth opens in shock.
“Let go of me!! Right now!” she says, but I can see that she’s still giggling.
“Are you going to behave? Are you going to put down the pillow?” I assert.
She repeats my question back at me in a mock tone.
“Oh, I see. Then, I suppose I’m not letting you go,” I tell her.
“Let. Me. Go!!” She struggles against my hands.
“Do you promise to stop?”
“Do you promise not to date that girl, Carmen?” she asks me.
I’m so surprised by her question that I actually let go of her hands.
