Hate You Not

Chapter 15BurkeI watch through a living room window until the yard is empty and the truck bed teems with shadow figures, glowing faintly red from Shawn’s brake lights. Oliver and Margot are surrounded by their cousins, sitting near Mary Helen, and if the truck’s cab light is any indication, it looks like Leah got the driver job she wanted. For the best, since she’s the only one of them who seems sober.

When I squint, I’m pretty sure that’s Shawn by Mary Helen; he’s laughing.

Everyone is ready to go except June.

I wait until the truck disappears down the driveway. Then I look around the kitchen, grab some kind of homemade cookie—oatmeal?—and a glass of water, plus her pain meds and the Tylenol and Advil, and, with my pockets stuffed full of pill bottles and the big dogs snuffing over the gate at the laundry room door, I step onto the porch.

June whirls around so quickly, I’m afraid she’s going to tumble off the porch swing.

“Jesus Lord! You scared the bejeezus out of me!” Thankfully, she laughs then, her face lit up and her hand drawn to her chest. “What are you doing here?”

I grin and pull pill bottles from my pockets. “Brought you dessert.”

“What?” She gives me a funny look, like she’s not sure why I would bring her painkillers, but I know she needs them. Her face looks tired, a little tight around the brows and mouth.

“What will it be? Ibuprofen? This handy bottle of Acetaminophen? Or the big guns?” I jiggle the prescription bottle. “Often considered more necessary after the sun goes down.” I gesture at the dark sky.

She snorts. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“I told you. To bring you your dessert.”

She narrows her eyes. “Just know that I’m skeptical.”

I open the prescription bottle, and she shakes her head. “I’ll take Tylenol. And then I think I can have more Advil in—”

“An hour,” I say with her.

She puts her hands over her face. “Now I’m really troubled. Who are you and where did you put the devil?”

I tap my chest and do my best to give her an evil look to match the evil voice I use when I say, “Don’t worry, he’s still in here.”

“You are so weird.”

I keep the strange expression on my face as I hand her the water, but I’m grinning as I watch her swallow the Tylenol.

“What do you think about me sitting by you?” I ask.

“Well if you mean swinging on that imaginary swing there”—she points a finger at nothing— “that would work. Because, I don’t know if you can tell with demon vision, but I’m kinda occupying this one.”

“Yeah. But you won’t be if I do this.” I lift her leg with care, sit down, and set her boot atop my thigh. I lean my head back and look at the porch’s ceiling and the lazily turning fan.

“I love swings,” I tell her with my eyes shut.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“This is my routine to get you comfortable so I can eat your soul. Don’t question it.”

She sighs. “This is so awk.”

“Does that mean is aw-akened? Cousin to the hyper-trendy ‘woke’?”

She widens her eyes, giving me a scolding type of look. “Burke, it means awkward.”

“You want me to get up? That would work, too.”

“I didn’t say that. But this is a boyfriend thing to do.”

I take that like a kick to the chest. But I don’t want to make things even more awk, so I roll with it. “Well, I’m a boy. And I’m your friend. You don’t strike me as girlfriend material, though.”

When she gasps, I laugh and press on. “Not for me. I think you’re looking for more of an angel type. Less on the two horns and pitchfork. At least that’s what I’m hearing,” I say in a therapist type manner.

“For sure. If I was looking at all. And I’m so not.”

“No?”

“Oh no,” she says, leaning her head against the swing’s back. “This is definitely more communicating than I normally do with people who hiss, but yeah. I mean, there’s nobody around here.”

“Really, nobody?” I tap my fingers to my chin. “Does that mean there is literally no male your age in this corner of the state, or more like no one you prefer?”

She sighs. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. My sworn enemy.”

“We’re not enemies anymore. Remember? I surrendered.”

“I think I remember something like that. And an apology? I was sort of out of it, though, so I may need to hear it again. Just to really enjoy it.” She’s trying to keep a straight face, but I can see the little smirk at one corner of her mouth. And then I see the dimple. She’s so fucking pretty.

“I can do that for you,” I say.

June blinks a few times quickly, which makes me laugh. She winces, and I look down at her boot on my leg.