AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So you look like your grandpa too,” I state, my eyes connecting with Wyatt’s.
“It’s funny, I don’t see it, but that’s what they tell me. If you look at pictures of him from when he was younger, you would think you were looking at pictures of Wyatt.” Jones’s explanation causes me to giggle.
“You do realize that you and Wyatt look like twins, right?” Rubbing his bald head, Jones shrugs his shoulders. “So what’s with the last name if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Oh, my mom was being a bitch when I was born, or so I’m told. My sister Sarah is from her first husband who decided to be an asshole hours after she was born, leaving her to raise Sarah on her own. My mom was worried my dad would pull the same shit, so she refused to give me his last name.”
Jones directs the conversation away from heavy topics to stories of Wyatt as a child. Up until this point, I was certain you could say anything to him and he was immune to teasing. Not when it comes to Jones. The blush that creeps in his cheeks brings a smile to my face, and Wyatt defends his actions over and over again.
He really thought burying his plastic army men was necessary when they lost the battle. That goes for his sister’s stuffed animals and Barbie dolls when their heads were somehow ripped off.
“Enough about me,” Wyatt finally says, standing from the table. “Why don’t we get some food and show Chloe the spot we found the other day. If there’s time, we could catch the matinee at the theater.”
“Hell yes!” Jones hollers in delight.
“Watch your mouth, young man,” Wyatt’s mother says as she drops two baskets of fried goodies on the table.
Becky’s an amazing mom from what I can tell. She doesn’t take shit from either of her children or, apparently, her nephew.
“Sorry, Aunt Becky,” Jones quickly apologizes as he shoves fries into his mouth, causing his words to be muffled.
“Where are you three headed to this afternoon?” she inquires, taking the empty chair next to me and reaching for a fried pickle.
“The guys want to show me some place they found, I guess.” Shrugging my shoulders, I reach for the basket of fries, but Wyatt pulls it away, grinning in triumph until his mom’s words catch him off guard.
“The kissing hole?” she asks, her question directed at Wyatt.
“They don’t really call it that, Mom.” Wyatt avoids eye contact with me as his cheeks flush again in embarrassment.
“My ass they don’t. It’s been called that since I was a kid. Who do you think they named it after?”
“Ew!” both guys say in unison while Becky and I laugh at the look of disgust on their faces.
“Keep it PG-13, boys. And Chloe, don’t let them talk you into any funny business. I know they’re cute but they’re not that cute.”
“Jeez, Mom,” Wyatt whispers as Becky leaves us to finish the food she brought over.
“So,” I start, waiting for both of them to shove food in their mouth before I continue. “If you two wanted to make out with each other, all you had to do was say so.”
Wyatt chokes on his food a little as laughter erupts from his chest. Jones on the other hand groans at my comment.
“I see why you like her now,” he says to Wyatt. “She’s funny, smart, and easy on the eyes. Don’t screw it up or I’ll be behind you to pick up the pieces.”
As the guys lead me down the path, I get an overwhelming sense of familiarity. Not only have I been here before, but I’ve been here a lot. I normally come through the meadow and walk along the banks of the pond. This way seems to take longer.
I never knew it was called the kissing hole. When I come down here, I come alone. This is my spot, my special place to escape when shit is on my mind. I’ve never kissed anyone here and until today, I didn’t realize anyone else even knew about this place.
“What do you think?” Wyatt asks, spreading his arms wide. The pond is crystal clear today, the sun’s rays reflecting across the water.
“It’s beautiful,” I reply. “Did you know you’re trespassing?”
“Of course we are, but the nearest house is almost a mile from here. No one will ever know we were here,” Jones dismisses my statement, but when he sees my grin, it’s like a light bulb comes on. “Wait.”
“Yep,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“No way.”
“This is my property. In fact, this is my special spot. I’ve been coming here for years. Alone,” I say for emphasis when I see Wyatt’s left eyebrow shoot up.
