Michaela Boot should be much too smart for this. (perfectionist) wrote in backway,
"But they don't," he said simply, finally turning to look at her. "They never have. They didn't ever really want me, you know. They just got stuck with me. And I don't really know what to do."
"I guess we can share my parents," she said, her voice quiet. "But that might be weird if we ...you know."
The briefest smile flicked across his face and he leaned forward to kiss her nose. "Thanks. But I'd rather not be your brother," he said making a face, "no matter how brilliant your dad is."
"Get married. I meant get married," she said quickly, pink cheeked.
"Oh," he said, glancing down at his feet and back up at her. "Aren't we, you know, a little young? I don't think anyone would let two fourteen year olds - or a fourteen and an almost fourteen year old - get married."
"I only meant...someday," she said, running her fingers through the grass. "Not when we're 14. When we're 17 or something."
"Do you think it would be weird?" he asked, watching her fingers play with the blades. "I think it would be more weird that we'd be grown up."
"Maybe not." She looked up at him. "I'd make a good wife. I make excellent waffles and french toast."