I picked up my Daisy Dukes from the lawn and hopped up, slipping them on. “I better head home. Dad wants to teach me how to pickle eggs.” “Jesus, Cal.” Rhyland stuck his axe’s blade in the ground, retying his man-bun. “Some of us want to eat in this century.” “Don’t slam it before you try it, Rhy.” I winked, pretending that he didn’t scare me. He did. A little. In a manageable way.
