Page 22 of Unspoken Words
My laughing ceased, and I watched as she sucked in a deep breath, squatted down, and picked up the worm. “And I like that I can make you laugh,” she added, standing upright again. Ellie then took the hook from my hand and thread the worm on it like a pro before letting go to watch it dangle on the end of the rod. “There. Done.”
She scrubbed her hands together then stood still, waiting for my response, a response I couldn’t give out of shock that she’d actually baited the hook without hesitation … until I noticed her fake wall start to crumble, her fingers twitching by her sides, her feet shuffling, and her face very slowly contorting.
My smile returned just as she squealed her disgust and frantically wiped her hands down her jacket.
“Yuk, yuk, yuk, YUUUUK!”
Laughter burst out of me yet again. “Oh my God! You nearly had me.”
“So?” She wiped some more and glared at the hook. “I still did it.”
“Yeah, you did. Well done.”
“I’m not doing it again.”
I went to hand her the rod but decided I’d cast off for her instead. She’d earned it. Plus, I didn’t want to chance losing an eye.
Twisting the rod over my shoulder, I let the bail go as I swung my arm forward, casting the hook and line into the river several metres ahead of us. The float broke the surface with a plop and the spool spun, unravelling as the hook and line sunk into the water.
“Here,” I said, handing the rod to her. “Keep your finger here, and if you feel a tug, quickly pull the rod up.”
She took it, tentatively, and eyed the river with unease. “What if I get pulled in?”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Shh, you’ll scare the fish away.”
Ellie grumbled and stomped her foot, and it was probably the cutest thing I’d ever seen. She was just soreal.No crap. No pretending. And the more time we spent together, the more normal I felt again. I could smile and laugh without wanting to stop because Aaron wasn’t there to smile and laugh with me.
“Connor,” she said, quietly, “tell me something about you.”
I shot her a sideways glance. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Who’s your favourite singer?”
“Um … I like Phil Collins and Bon Jovi.”
“Cool. I like them too.”
Water lapped the riverbank, the sound breaking our sudden silence, and I felt compelled to ask her something. “Do you like sport?”
“Sure. I play netball every Saturday. I’m Goal Shooter. I shoot the goals with the Goal Attack.”
“Cool. I’m a shooting guard.” I quickly corrected myself. “Wasa shooting guard.”
“What team did you play for?”
“Peninsula Panthers, and we also represented Victoria in the East Coast Challenge.”
“We?”
“Aaron and I. We’d both had our eyes set on the Australian Junior Championship League.”
