I nudge him again. Harder this time.
“So, what’s a cochlear implant do? Does it cure it?”
“Not entirely, I don’t think. She can speak and hear now without leaning on sign language, but we catch ourselves doing it occasionally out of habit.”
He’s quiet for a second, and I wonder if he hears the Sweater Squad coming. I push my lips together and clutch my paintball gun to my chest.
“Damn, Candace.”
“Huh?”
“I can’t seem to make fun of any of that.”
A breathy laugh falls from my lips, and I shake my head at my feet. “You can’t live two seconds without giving me crap?”
“Can you?”
“I can go three.”
His shoulders move in silent laughter, and he checks up over the barrels again.
“Anyone?” I ask.
“Not yet.” He settles back down, his arm pressed against mine. I hope he keeps it there. Being alone is also on my list of fears, and physical contact helps squash that lonely feeling.
“So…” he says, adjusting his gun. “Will I meet her eventually during these lessons?”
“Doubtful.” I pull his leg in after it moves into the danger zone. “My parents are in Texas at the moment.”
“Vacation?”
“No… they live there.”
He jerks back. “Then who lives in that giant farmhouse?”
“No one right now.”
His thoughts push his eyebrows in, his lips getting scrunched. A wrinkle appears above the bridge of his nose. Oh here we go again with another “look.” I’m about to divulge justhow muchmy parents are worth, and he’s going to give me that stupid gawk and a lifetime ban on seeing his apartment.
“Just how many houses do your parents have?” he manages to get out.
I sink lower behind the barrels. “Too many.”
“You were so specific with your twelve and three months.” He smirks, and that’s his teasing smile. Good, I can deal with that look. “Can’t give me a number?”
“Eleven.”
“Which one’s the biggest?”
“They’re all about the same size.”
“Which one’s your favorite?”
A slow smile spreads on my face. I didn’t expect the question or the interest. “Idaho.”
He makes a face, and I punch him.
“It’s a gorgeous place, you butt.”