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My hands go up. “Hey, what’re you–?”
She shoots. A splotch of pink spreads on the ground close to my feet. I look up at her and she’s smiling angelically.
“Oops,” she says sweetly, eyes dancing.
“You little…”
I don’t finish my sentence. Before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m lunging forward and grabbing her around the waist. Val reacts immediately, squealing and wriggling out of my grasp. I chase her around, hopping over haybales and ducking behind paint-covered pieces of plaster.
For a minute, it feels like we’re kids again, like no time has passed at all. Like we’re just Val and Ethan; not estranged-childhood-friend-exes.
Suddenly, white paint splatters on the wall behind me. A blob of yellow narrowly misses Val’s arm.
Right, we’re actually in competition. With other people.
“Duck!” I take Val’s hand and pull her ahead of me to protect her from any more shots. I drag her behind a haybale and we scramble to take cover, resting our backs against the itchy straw.
“That was close,” Val pants. “They almost got us.”
“Well, if someone hadn’t gone rogue…”
“I was making sure you were on your game. C minus, by the way.”
I chuckle, not missing her smile. And at that moment—her dark hair full of straw and her cheeks pink from running—I’m absolutely certain no one has ever looked so good in paint-covered overalls.
I have to resist a sudden urge to pull her close, like I used to. But we’re not kids anymore, and we certainly aren’t together.
Val peeks out from behind the haybale. “Dang it. Looks like they’ve built themselves a haybale fortress. They’re…” She pauses. Sighs tiredly. “Making faces and imitating us running away.”
I look out. The boys are literally tripping over themselves doing this bizarre, exaggerated run while guffawing with laughter. I smirk, remembering my own teen years. I guess it’s good that these kids are having fun, even if it’s at our expense. Plus, it gives us an opportunity for strategizing.
Or it would… if the group wasn’t covered by the makeshift shelter. “We don’t have a clear shot,” I mutter.
“Nope. Although, do you see the girl?”
My eyes skate over the group—four boys, but not a fifth person. “Where is she?”
There’s no answer.
“Val?” I turn towards her. She doesn’t move, just stares ahead at something I can’t make out.
I move closer to her, on high alert. Then, I see it.
The girl’s crouched behind a piece of plaster not far from us. She hasn’t seen us yet, and she peeks out periodically. It looks like she wants to get back to the group of boys, but is worried we’ll catch her.
Which we could do. Val has a direct shot.
At that moment, the girl’s eyes land on us and her face pales. She looks young, probably no more than twelve. Her red hair is gathered in a braid and she’s wearing glasses that sit slightly lopsided on her face.
Her gaze drops to Val, who appears to be mouthing something at her. The girl looks suspicious, her lips twisted down.
I don’t miss what Val mouths next: “Go on.”
Something like hope crosses the girl’s face, then she looks at me. I give her a nod.
She flashes her braces at us in a grateful smile and launches forward. She darts, cat-like, towards the boys and into their little shelter. There’s a chorus of cheers and whoops as the group is reunited.
Val sits back against the straw, smiling.
