“Good,” Penn said. “He sucks for hurting you, Daisy.”
So thatwasthe reason she looked at him like she wanted to kill him. Which was strange—sometimes Penn struck me as the kind of sister who’d be gleeful over someone hurting my feelings.
“Yeah.” Jamie kicked a stone on the sidewalk. “I think he sucks, too.”
Swallowing a sigh, I said nothing.
“So you guys just hold hands and hug?” Junie askedJamie, batting her little lashes up at him. “You don’t kiss or anything?”
“Kissing is gross,” Jamie replied immediately. “Don’t do it til your married.”
“You have to kiss to get married,” Ivy called up to them, proud that she knew that much. “They don’t call you husband and wife until you kiss!”
“Can we stop talking about kissing?” I asked, because I had too clear of an image of Jamie’s lips on my palm. And on my forehead. And on my neck. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Jamie, you like Daisy enough to pretend to like-like her?” Penn asked him, this time facing forward on the sidewalk when she asked. “It’s not… weird?”
I stared at the back of Jamie’s head. “It’s a little weird,” he admitted, and there was an undercurrent to his voice I couldn’t pinpoint. Since he wasn’t looking at me, I couldn’t gauge his expression. “But she’s my best friend. I’d do anything for her.”
The things I do for you, Daisy Carmichael.
“You should definitely get something in return, though.” Junie tucked her hands behind her back. “We learned that in school. If you want something, you have to pay for it. But it’s not always money.”
Jamie laughed at that. “When it’s your friend, sometimes you just do things for them without getting anything in return. And sometimes the happiness of getting to help them is enough.”
Junie wrinkled her nose. “Not for me. I’d always want something.”
Not Jamie.I’d do anything for you, he’d told me the night of the party, the words almost haunted. Even if it put him in a tight spot, he’d be on my side. Even if he didn’t want to do it, he’d do it anyway.The things I do for you, Daisy Carmichael.
My stomach turned again.
They continued chattering as we turned onto Hawthorne Street, bouncing from mindless topic to mindless topic, but I barely paid attention. Jamie’s hair started to stick to the back of his neck as we walked, and I realized that if I was hot in the sun, he must’ve been much hotter bearing Theo’s weight. Especially in his hoodie. Jamie seemed to pull the short straw in every instance lately, especially when it came to me.
When we got home, Penn decided she needed a drink, and Junie and Ivy followed after her. Jamie, cradling a still-sleeping Theo, brought him over to the couch where he gently laid him down. Playing in the sun with the sugar rush after had him crashing hard, because he didn’t even stir as Jamie pulled back.
“Sorry you were our pack mule,” I told Jamie, wincing at the drool all along his shoulder. “Do you want a new shirt? I could probably find one of my dad’s?—”
“I’m okay. Truly. And about the pack mule part—I wanted to be.” Jamie tugged the blanket up closer to Theo’s chin, ruffling his hair lightly. “I doubt you’d have been able to carry him all the way home.”
“I would’ve made him walk.” I looked down at my little brother’s resting face. “I shouldn’t let him nap thislong, anyway. He won’t sleep tonight if he naps the day away, and he’ll be up bothering me all night.”
I’d said that last bit with affection, though I knew thatwouldbe the case. This would totally throw his sleep schedule off, but itwasthe first day of summer vacation. Maybe it would be fine. I just couldn’t bear to shake him awake now, not when he looked so peaceful.
“He wouldn’t bother your mom?” Jamie asked.
“Oh, jeez, no.” That actually made me laugh. “Her room is off-limits after lights out.” Plus, the kids were more afraid of going downstairs when it was so dark.
“But yours isn’t?”
“No. Mom has work.”
“You had school.”
I frowned. “Her work is more important. It’s no big deal.”
Jamie let out a little breath, nudging up his glasses as his gaze flicked to Theo. “Can we?—”
“Daisy, what are you making for dinner tonight?” Junie called from the kitchen. A second later, she popped up in the hallway, holding a box of bowtie noodles. “Can we have pasta?”
