Jules

“So what were you doing there?” 

Here’s the frustrating thing about Nate, one of those things that happy memories conveniently glossed over.  A lot of times, you had to ask him a question more than once to get a straight answer.  He loved to answer questions you’d never asked, or to answer a question with another question.  

“Do I really have to answer that, Kyrie?”

See?

“Don’t you trust me?” 

See?!”
― Genevieve Pearson

“Chust a little farther.   Keep your shoes on.”

Peter whispered to me.   “Where does he get this stuff, anyway?   Isn’t it pants?   Aren’t we supposed to keep our pants on?”

“Maybe for Bodo shoes are more important.   Maybe it’s a German thing.”

“You know, Chermans can hear very good.   You are talking about me not very nice, I know it.”

“We were just talking about your creative colloquialisms,” said Peter.

I had no idea what that word meant, but it was fun to mess with Bodo, which is exactly what Peter was trying to do.  

“Is dat like a fucktart?”

“What?” asked Peter, half choking.

“Fucktart.   Dat’s a new word I learned today.   Isn’t it a good one?”

“I told you before, Bodo,” I said, “it’s not fucktart.   It’s fucktard.   And you were right before.   It’s not a nice word, so stop saying it.”

“I didn’t say fucktart.   Dat was you.   You are the lady saying all the fucktart words today.   Or moron.   She likes dat one, too.   I think it means boy I luff.”

“Wow.   You guys have one of the most messed up relationships I have ever seen,” said Peter, shaking his head.   “Seriously.   You fight to lighten the mood.   You call each other names …”

“And we take showers togedder sometimes. Don’t forget dat.”

“Shut up, Bodo!”

“You do?   Ew.   That’s a public shower, you know.”

“We do not take showers together.”

“Yesss weeee doooo … ”

“One time!   Okay?   One time.   And it’ll never happen again, I can promise you that.”

“I can promise you different!” said Bodo in a singsong voice.”
― Elle Casey, Warpaint

“I think he likes you.”

I watched Paci join the others, noticing that he was still glancing at me occasionally, and watching other guys who were looking over at Peter and me.  

“Really?”

“Yeah.   He keeps watching you.   Once he heard Bodo wasn’t your boyfriend, he was all over that.”

I sighed.   “Shit.”

“Yeah.   Exactly.   You’d better not go around advertising you’re single.   There’s not a hell of a lot of available jawbreakers if you know what I mean.”

My mind raced with the implications.   It was stupid of me not to have been thinking about all this stuff before.   I guess I was so wrapped up in finding food to eat, a place to live, and companions who wouldn’t eat me, I hadn’t much considered the other human needs, other than on the most basic level.   God, I hope there are no rapists in this group.   The last thing I wanted to do was kill a guy in the swamp.”
― Elle Casey, Warpaint

“Buster went bananas, running over to Paci and jumping up on his legs, begging for attention.   Paci didn’t disappoint him, either.   He bent down and baby-talked with Buster, like he was an old hand at it.  

I smiled in amusement.   Paci was no wimp.   He was almost as big as Bodo and ripped to the max.   He had zero body fat, so Peter and I were able to admire his every muscle, which I noticed Peter was doing with unabashed curiosity.   I caught his attention and raised my eyebrows at him in a conspiratorial message of mutual admiration.   He smiled in return, giving me a pitiful wink that made him look like he had something stuck in both eyes.   It made me laugh.

Paci looked up at me.   “Something strike you as funny?”

“Yeah.   You baby-talking to a nude poodle.”
― Elle Casey, Warpaint