Page 62 of Lovebug
“Alright then.” He weaves his fingers together and creates a little step. “Put ’er here.”
I silently place my foot in his hands.
“And one… two… three… alley-oop!” he exclaims as he springs me up and over the rim of the boat.
I land on the bottom. Hard.
“You okay?” he asks.
I sit up on the bench seat and look down at him bobbing in the water, his eyes tipped up to mine in question.
I took a photography class as an elective in college one semester. The portrait lessons were my favorite. I remember my teacher saying if you want to see the inherent innocence in your subject… shoot their portrait from above. When your subject looks upward to meet the camera’s gaze, their face naturally softens, their hard expressions pull back, and the youthfulness and hopefulness inside them—inside all of us—are exposed.
Seems my teacher was on to something.
I wish I had a camera right now because looking at his face from above, his bravado melts into the water below, and all I can see is this precious, perfect boy.
“I think it’s best that we don’t talk anymore,” I say more softly than I intend to. “It’s just not… appropriate.”
“Hm.” He pauses and considers this a moment.
“As you wish, Mabel Again.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Don’t callmeWally.”
“You like it, though,” I sass, surprising us both.
“Oooh, she does have some fire in her after all.” He looks proud. “I knew she did.”
With that, he smiles and hoists himself back in the boat, not letting a drop of water on board with him, looking like he’s done this a hundred times. I suppose he has.
He starts rowing us back in silence.
I cling to the bunny to ensure he doesn’t take another aquatic adventure anytime soon. I’m finding it difficult to look directly at Wally—I mean, Wallace—but I can feel his eyes burning into me.
I know steering clear of this guy is the right thing to do. So why do I feel so undeniably sad about it?
“Hey, Mabel?”
I don’t respond.
“Aw, are we having our first fight?” he coos.
I still stay silent.
“Alright, fair enough,” he says, adopting a serious tone for what feels like the first time during this whole boating expedition. “You are engaged. I respect that, and I respect your wishes. Though in my defense, I do think kissing me was a biiiiiit of a mixed message, but hey, it’s certainly a lady’s prerogative to change her mind.” He pauses and considers something before continuing. “Before we officially cut off all communication, can I just offer you some quick food for thought? You know, since I’m your elder and all?”
I give in the tiniest bit and meet his eyes.
“If the fiancé is going full butterfly hump on you? Well then, my man is doing itallwrong.”
He gives me a wink, then rows us silently to shore.
And I have to suppress the smile that wants to spread on my face the whole way back.
Chapter Twelve
