Billy's Baby - Annie J. Rose Page 0,9
have to say this, but for the love of all that is holy, do not try to grab a bird on the hike.”
“Why would I try to grab a bird?” I laughed.
“It has happened before. Some woman wanted to yank out a feather for a souvenir. She tried to grab a bird that was on the ground preparing to take flight.”
“I hope it pecked the shit out of her,” I said, shaking my head.
“No, but I should have won an award for not laughing my ass off. Anyone who works with the public can tell crazy stories about what people will do.”
“I used to work retail. Believe me, I know. But the worst part was the people who hit on you. Do people try to molest you on hikes or just attack the birds?” I asked coyly.
“It happens from time to time,” he said and looked a little embarrassed. For all his cocky attitude, seeing him look a tiny bit shy was cute as hell. I swallowed hard. He made me want to smile all the time.
“I bet it’s teenage girls here with their families. That was the worst in retail. Some high school kid comes into the soap and lotion shop I worked at, and he’s clearly there to buy something for his mom or his sister or his little girlfriend, and he acts like he has swagger. Starts asking me when I get off work, how old I am, if I have a boyfriend,” I laughed. “I was in college. I had zero interest in some sixteen year old who was still concentrating really hard on trying to grow a mustache.”
“It’s really awkward when kids like that act like they have a crush. I want to put my hands up like the cops are there and say, ‘no back away from me right now!’” he said.
“I can see how it’s worse if you’re a guy when it’s some teenager. You don’t want to so much as touch them on the shoulder.”
“Right. I’m backing away, I’m talking to the dad the whole time, I’m really stern and quiet with the teenager and I say things like, ‘watch your step here’ and ‘it’s better if we don’t talk so we can focus on the trail.’ I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to do anything that seems like encouragement.”
“I just told the boys to get lost.”
“I can’t encourage anyone to get lost on a hike I’m leading. Bad for business if they have to call emergency services to find somebody,” he said. I laughed.
“I know what you mean. Go play with someone your own age, please. Even as a travel writer, I’ve been on a beach or at a pool talking to an employee or guests about their experience or recommendations for stuff to do, and some kid comes over and offers to pose with his shirt off it if I need a picture for my magazine. I try to stick with ‘no thank you’ but I really want to run screaming or threaten to tell his mother.”
“I know it’s innocent. I crushed pretty hard on the lifeguard at the public pool when I was about twelve. I know I irritated the crap out of her, offering to get her a bottle of water or bringing her a popsicle or something. I know now she was being polite but wished really hard I’d go away,” he said, with that self-deprecating smile that got me.
“Well, I was way too mature to bug anyone older with a crush,” I said loftily.
“Really?”
“No. My brother was on the basketball team. I’m three years younger than him, and I went to all the practices to watch this one gangly blonde-haired kid who wasn’t even very good at the sport. But I thought because he knew me through my brother that he was probably just keeping his love for me a secret so he didn’t piss off Jake.”
“Was that why?”
“Oh, yeah sure,” I laughed. “Tons of eighteen-year-old boys are secretly crazy about their friend’s freshman sister who has braces and thinks Crocs are the height of fashion. I was a hot mess, and at the time I thought he pined for me too, but really he was trying bravely to ignore me. I baked him cookies and one time I even told him I had brought a clean pair of my brother’s socks in my backpack in case his socks got sweaty and he wanted to change.”
“That is fantastic,” Billy laughed.
Dimples bracketed