change the subject. “I hate to be one of those people, but what are you reading?”
She wrinkles her nose, showing me the cover. The cover is abstract, a swirl of gold-brown under the title. “It’s The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner.”
“Faulkner. I think I had to read something by him in high school.” I pause. “Well, I don't mean read. I mean listen. It was one of the few books that my school had on audiotape.”
She lifts her eyebrows. “Oh? You didn’t want to read the novel?” She chuckles. “Actually, most people don’t. He is very wordy.”
I look at the sand in front of me, reach out two fingers to trace a figure eight. “I’m like… laughably dyslexic. When I was growing up, I failed two grades before the school realized that I couldn’t really read.”
“Oh,” she says carefully, gripping her book to her chest with both hands. “Right. I knew that. I just never really put that together in my head. I just assumed that you were as good at school as you were at… everything else.” She wrinkles her nose. “All I ever did as a kid was read.” Her cheeks stain again. “Actually, my childhood wasn’t that different from my life right now in that regard. I’m still a giant nerd.” She crinkles her face up. “I know you were a jock at that age, so… thanks for hanging out with me.”
She huffs out a laugh.
I smile a little. I’ve known her since she was a little kid, her nose always stuck in a book. “I wished I was a nerd sometimes. My dad was this big corporate lawyer who was so angry that he had a dumb kid.”
She straightens her spine and frowns. “You aren’t dumb, Aiden.”
I roll my eyes. “My dad would probably disagree. His fuckup of a son, who joined the Navy straight out of high school, and now spends his days hiking around the forest. I’m a profound disappointment to him and he doesn’t waste a single opportunity to remind me of it.”
Her eyes widen. “Your father actually told you that?”
I push myself onto my back, laying out against the sand. “Yep. In much, much more explicit language than that. That’s why we don't talk anymore. We haven’t even made an attempt since my mom died.”
Olivia pushes her hair behind her ears, her expression a little angry. She reaches out and touches my arm ever so gently, causing goosebumps to raise all over my body. “Aiden, you’re one of the smartest people I know. You always have been. I’m sorry that anybody ever tried to tell you differently.”
Her words are so earnest, making the back of my neck heat. It’s a little weird that she has such complete faith in me when I’ve never really given her a reason to feel so strongly about me. It feels awkward and clunky.
“We don't really need to talk about that,” I deflect. “We should be talking about something more interesting. Like…” I grasp for straws, eager to put the ball back in my court. What am I good at?
Sex. How do I work that into the conversation?
“Okay…” I say. “Ah! Who was your first crush?”
Her cheeks color. “I don't know…” she hedges.
I’m enjoying her embarrassment too much. “Mine was Mrs. Collins, my fifth-grade math teacher. She had sort of this breathy voice. And she used to wear these short, tight little skirts… and she would lean over when she fixed the projector… Mm. How about you?”
Olivia looks at the ground. “I had a crush on Mr. Rodger,” she mumbles. “I liked how neatly he dressed.”
“Oh man,” I say, cracking up. “That is nerdy. You liked how neatly he dressed.” I laugh about that for second, my eye on Olivia. “Alright. How about a tougher one?”
She gives me a look that says she couldn’t imagine anything she would rather be talking about less. I grin, my shoulders feeling looser.
“How about… are you a boobs girl or a butt girl? Or… what’s the female equivalent? Hot arms or strong back muscles?”
She scrunches up her face. “I would rather crawl under a rock than answer that.”
I bump her with my shoulder. “Relax. I’m not going to tell anybody. Me, I’m a butt guy, all the way. Boobs are great, but I like an ass. Gives you something to hold onto when you’re fucking.”
Olivia pinches her eyes closed. “I hate you.”
“Just tell me. Which do you fantasize about? Arms or back? Oooh, or abs maybe?”
She grabs her book,