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“If you didn’t want to answer, you shouldn’t tell me to come in the bathroom with you.” Before she could speak again, I asked, “What did my mom say to you? And don’t lie; I know it really wasn’t about paintball. Why was she talking to you for so long?”
“I’ll answer only if you tell me why you want to know.”
“What?” I frowned. “I want to know because I want to know.”
“That’s the only reason?” she questioned, coming closer to me and staring me down, her face bunched together like she ate something funny.
I made my eyes wide and stared back at her. “Yes. That’s the only reason.”
She laughed and pulled back. “You must really love your mom.”
“What?” And I was kinda mad I kept saying that. It made me sound dumb. “Why would you say that?”
“Well, you stood next to your mom before your dad. You only went to your father when she pet you on the head…that’s a sign, right? She pets your head and it means you can escape the grown-ups or whoever you’re talking to, right?” She was too curious and I didn’t know what to say…how did she know that? My mom and I came up with that for parties. “Now you came to find out what me and your mom were talking about. That’s why I think you really love your mom because you didn’t like that she was talking to me.”
“I never said that—”
“You didn’t look happy when she was talking to me.” Moving to a small couch in the corner, she took off her shoes and sat down cross-legged.
“Sometimes people think I don’t look happy, it’s just my face,” I replied.
“That’s a lie.” She frowned. “I lie a lot, so I can tell.”
“Did you call yourself a liar? You do know that’s a bad thing, right?”
She shook her head. “No, grown-ups lie all the time. Lying is only telling a story. If the story is bad, no one believes it. If it’s good, then people believe it. I think your parents are good liars too.”
She was right.
“Are you faking being a mouse?” I asked her. She bent over and picked up her shoe to throw at me. “Don’t!”
“Stop calling me a mouse!”
“I didn’t call you one this time!” I snapped back, and she paused.
“Oh…well stop using the word mouse,” she muttered, dropping her shoe back on the floor.
“I don’t have to listen to you,” I told her. “So that’s what you were doing? You were pretending to be quiet, so you could watch everyone else?”
“Maybe…but isn’t that what you were doing?”
She was right...again. That was weird. I never really met girls that were right twice. She was smart.
“I am mostly quiet,” I told her.
“Hmmm…I thought everyone here would be more fun to talk to.” She sighed and reached over, picking up one of the magazines to flip through. “It’s easy being quiet. No one asks you for anything and they forget you’re there. And once they forget you can listen to what people really think.”
“And that way you can hear the truth,” I said, moving over and taking a seat next to her on the couch. “People can’t forget I’m there, though…”
“Because you’re supposed to take over your family business.” She looked at me with questioning eyes.
I stared back, and she just waited. “You don’t talk like a kid.”
“Neither do you.” She shrugged and looked back at the pictures.
“You’re not going to ask why I don’t talk like a kid?”
“I already know. It’s because you’re not supposed to be a kid, you’re supposed to follow after your parents,” she said, turning the page and not looking at me.
