One thing," I said, when we had broken apart and the swirling feeling in my head subsided. "Maybe...don't tell your mom too much about this. I think she has ideas."
"What?" he asked, all innocence, as he put an arm around my shoulders and led me back toward his house. "Don't your parents cheer and stare when you make out with someone? Is that weird where you come from? I guess they don't get to see it much, though. From jail, I mean."
"Shut it, Weintraub. If I knock you down in the snow, these kids will swarm and eat you.
Were you playing with Stuart?" she asked.
The question was loaded. I was a filthy, filthy woman, and even the five-year-old knew it.
Which is both gross and breathtakingly romantic. He could always have just gone upstairs and brushed his teeth, but he stayed and lurked by the fish for me.
Maureen JohnsonIt wasn't ass-screaming Beaker, though. It was fourteen girls in matching, form fitting sweats, all of which read RIDGE CHEERLEADING on the butt. (A form of ass-screaming, I suppose.) Each had her name on the back of her sleek warm-up fleece. They clustered around the snack bar, yelling at the top of their lungs. I really hoped and prayed that they wouldn't all say "Oh my God!" at once, but my prayers were not heard, maybe because God was busy listening to all of them.
Maureen JohnsonI realize Jubilee is a bit of a stripper name. You probably think I have heard the call of the pole.
Maureen JohnsonOh my God!" said one of the Ambers. "Is this not the worst trip ever? Did you see the snow?"
She was a sharp one, this Amber. What would she notice next? The train? The moon? The hilarious vagaries of human existence? Her own head?
It's always awkward when someone doesn't realize you're joking and devotes thought time to what you've said. Double that when the person is wearing tinfoil.
Maureen JohnsonHave some nice hot chocolate, something to eat, cuddle up under a blanket..."
Under any other circumstances, I would have assumed that that last sentence meant, "Cuddle up under two separate blankets, spaced several feet apart, possibly with a lightly chained wolf between you," because that's what parents always mean.
What tinfoil?" he asked.
Maureen JohnsonIt makes you very cool," he said, taking big, jumping steps to get in front of me. "CNN would interview you, for sure. Daughter of Flobie! But don't worry. I'll keep them back!
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