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He leans against the kitchen counter again, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he looks at me.
“What does starting school next week have anything to do with camping anyway?”
I shrug.
“Nothing I guess. It’s just that Logan told me yesterday how his dad always took him camping up at Braun Oaks when he returned from one of his tours. He was so excited, recounting all those times he and his dad camped out, but then he got sad because he doesn't know when his dad is coming back home. Maybe not even for Christmas. I just thought that if we went on a camping trip with Quaid and Carter, it would cheer him up.”
“Ah I see,” he replies perceptively.
I scrunch my nose and bow my head.
“It’s a stupid idea, isn’t it?”
“No, kiddo. Nothing you can do to cheer a friend up can ever be considered stupid. You want to do something nice for Logan, which is understandable. Tell you what, how about instead of a camping trip up at Braun Oaks, we do one right here in our backyard?”
“Not sure if that will be the same thing.”
“You’re right. It’s going to be better. I'll set up a tent for all of you and build a little fire in the pit outside. You can do some s’mores and tell ghost stories and make a night of it. I'll rest easy knowing where you are and that I'm seconds away if you need me. It’s a win-win,” he explains, content with his alternative. I, however, see it for what it is. My dad is still adamant about holding on to his tight leash, making sure that he has eyes on me at all times. I get where he’s coming from, but things are different now. I’m different now, and the sooner he gets that, the better.
“Dad, I'll be fine. I am fine. You have to ease up a bit,” I huff out.
“And I am. My reluctance has nothing to do with your health, Val, and more to do with the situation. I doubt many parents would let their only daughter camp out with three teenage boys. You have to agree with me that not every father would be so lenient.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me, making me laugh.
“I never thought about it that way.”
“That's because you are young and innocent. But I know what it was like to be a horny thirteen-year-old boy.”
“Geez, Dad! Don’t say stuff like that. They are my friends. My best friends.”
“Kiddo, that still doesn't mean they aren't horny little bastards.”
I roll my eyes because there really isn’t much else I can do. Dad once said for me to pick my battles, and this one isn’t worth the trouble.
“Can I ask you a question?” Dad asks, his tone a little more serious.
“Will it be rhetorical or hypothetical?” I tease, making him chuckle.
“Is there one of the boys in particular that you like more than the others? Out of all three boys, is there just one you shift to closer?”
I scratch my temple and think hard on that unexpected question.
“I don't know. I never really thought about it,” I answer truthfully.
“Hmm. Let’s try it another way. What if I asked you to say one of the boy’s names right now, in this very minute, who would it be?”
All three names blur in my head, and I struggle to focus, let alone be able to pick one.
“I can't,” I reply, confused.
My dad, however, doesn’t seem to be as perplexed as I am by the way he’s smiling knowingly.
“Yep. That's what I thought. Ah, kiddo, how I envy you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because you found something that most people look their entire lives for. Some even coming out empty handed in their search,” he replies, a tinge of melancholy attached to the end of his remark.
“What did I find?”
