“That’s such an old man answer.”
“I’m thirty, not eighty.”
“Same thing.”
He laughs quietly and shakes his head.
For a few minutes we sit in comfortable silence. The night is cool, and somewhere in the distance I hear a horse move around in one of the pastures. Randy flicks ash into the dirt.
“Got a girlfriend?” I ask.
He glances over at me.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs again. “Never found the right woman, I guess.”
I make a face.
“That’s depressing.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
“It was.”
He laughs.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You got some little high school boyfriend?”
I snort.
“No.”
“No?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t date high school boys.”
His eyebrows lift.
“Oh?”
“Nope. I’m waiting until college.”
He looks amused.
“That’s a strategy?”
“Absolutely.”
I cross my arms.