Page 23 of Mixing Drinks For Tipsy Weasels

She brushes a strand of her copper hair behind her ear. "But now it's time to give it to you, I'm feeling like a bit of an idiot."

I raise an eyebrow. "Okay..." I have absolutely no idea what she's talking about, and I'm a little worried.

She takes a deep breath and holds out something round and glittery to me. It takes a moment for what I'm seeing to fully register, but it's a bouncy ball with black and red glitter swirls across the surface. It looks just like the one that ended up in the river and started whatever this is between me and Erica.

"You kept it the whole time?" I ask, realising as I do that it doesn't track with either my memories, or what she told me a couple of days ago.

"What? No, of course not. Your bouncy ball is at the bottom of a river somewhere, maybe even the sea." She grimaces. "That's probably not good for the fish."

"Probably not," I respond.

"I'm sorry that I lost your bouncy ball. I didn't mean to, and I'm sorry. I was thinking about it all day yesterday, and that's when I went and bought a bouncy ball that I thought looked the same. But now I think about it, that's a bit weird, isn't it?"

"No, I appreciate it." I reach out to take the ball from her, our fingers brushing against one another as I take it and causing me to think thoughts that I definitely wasn't having about her a few weeks ago. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm not even sure what you're going to do with a bouncy ball..."

"Bounce it, absolutely." I step back and let it fall to the floor, having to lower my arms in order to catch it and probably looking like an idiot in the process. I look up in time to see Erica trying to smother a laugh. "That was a bit of a fail, wasn't it?"

"It was cute," she responds. "But definitely not as impressive as when we were kids."

"I should turn into a weasel then bounce the ball, that would be more impressive," I joke.

"Now that I'd love to see."

"Maybe later," I say, pocketing the ball and smiling even as I do. It's sweet that she thought to get one for me, I'd never have expected it, especially after we cleared the air about the bouncy ball incident.

"Well, yeah. Anyway, I'm sorry that I lost your bouncy ball, I really didn't mean to."

"I know," I assure her. "And I'm sorry I spilt paint all over you."

"You don't need to be, I completely forgot."

"It was two weeks ago."

She shrugs. "That could have happened to anyone."

"So could the bouncy ball incident," I respond. "I was just young and dumb."

"As opposed to how young and dumb you are now?" she teases.

I chuckle. "Who said anything about dumb?"

"We raced to the top of the arch last week and I was almost a flat weasel instead of a least weasel."

"We can't have that, can we?" I joke.

"Preferably not. I wouldn't want to have to explain that one to my parents."

"Or to Robin," I add.

"Yes?"

We both jump at the sound of their voice and turn around to find the head of the committee behind us.

"Hey, Robin," Erica squeaks.

"You were saying about things that need explaining to me?" they ask, looking between us as if trying to work out which of us was going to break.

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