Page 46 of Resisting the Grump

She nodded. “They spend most of their lives flying. They even sleep on the wing.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Not for swifts,” she said. "They find it harder to sit still.”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“It’s like they know their restlessness is a strength, rather than a weakness.”

“Interesting.”

“Did you know a flock of swifts is called a ‘scream’?”

“I didn’t,” I said. “So is that why you got it? You like the bird?”

“Yeah. That, and I thought it would piss my mom off.”

“The ironclad logic of a teenager.”

She looked down at the little bird and sighed. “I was so wise then.”

“Wise?”

“Ignorant,” she corrected. “But it felt like wisdom.”

“I knew everything when I was 19,” I confessed. “But it didn’t last, unfortunately.”

“No matter,” she said, her sparkling eyes searching mine. “Knowing it all is overrated. Better to know what’s important.”

I held her gaze. “Now that’s real wisdom.”

She blushed.

I lifted my chin. “What’d you get next?”

She pointed towards one of her ribs. “A juicy peach.”

“Because?”

She shrugged. “I find peaches aspirational.”

Aspirational? “How so?”

“I like that they’re soft and sweet on the outside but strong in the middle.”

“Like you?”

She smiled. “On my good days.”

“Your juicy peach sounds nice.”

“There’s one more you haven’t seen.” She reached around to her lower back.

I raised a brow.

“It’s the only one I regret.”

“I’ve seen it.” Was that so hard? Doesn’t it feel good to tell the truth?

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