Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

forearms along the back of their seat and leaned his head forward so they could hear him good. He spoke in a low, respectful tone so's the girls would know he thought well of them, just like his ma had taught him. Mitzy giggled, and Lisabeth turned sideways, leaning her back against the bus window. "Good morning, Peter. You excited about your first day?"
    Peter wrinkled his nose, and then winced when the action put undue pressure on Mount Zittlering. "Yeah. This is better'n a three day 'coon hunt."
    Mitzy and Lisabeth exchanged glances. Mitzy poked Lisabeth's leg with the tips of her fingers. "Okay, okay, I'll tell him." Lisabeth blew her bangs out of her face after snapping at her sister. "Peter, you might want to mention the whole hunting raccoons in the hollow with your cousins Tater and Rufus thing a little less. Um… some of the kids might make fun of you. Like, if they don't know you well and they just overhear something about raccoons? They're gonna think you're, like, a total hick. Um, sorry. We just don't want anyone to be mean to you, cause you're really nice, okay?"
    Well.
    Didn't that just beat getting' kicked square in the nuts by an ornery mule all hollow? Peter wondered how he was going to get through a whole hour, let alone a whole day without mentioning Rufus and Tater and 'coon hunting. Maybe he could just be one of those real quiet guys who almost never spoke up unless the teacher called on him. It could happen, maybe. Peter snorted, rolling his eyes a little at the idea he could manage to stay quiet for as long as a whole class period.
    Mitzy turned around in the seat, her brows puckering up a bit. "We're not popular girls, Peter, or we could protect you. But we can't just let you make mistakes right off the bat. Don't be mad, please?"
    "Aw, I ain't mad. I'm just figurin' I better not say too much til' I get the lay of the land. Cause I figure if I try to talk to folks too much I'll end up talking about lots that's real hickish, cause, well, that's what I am Mitz. I don't mind so much, but I'd hate to make y'all look bad or get picked on for bein' my friend."
    Mitzy and Lisabeth exchanged another one of those secretive girl looks that plumb baffled the hell out of Peter. "Oh, you're so sweet. Don't you worry, Peter. Anyone who knows you is gonna like you. I'm sure of it." Lisabeth nodded her head emphatically as she spoke, like she was standing in a court-room convincing a jury full of pissed off peers that she and her sister oughta be allowed to save him from hisself.
    Mitzy raised an eyebrow at him. "Peter, are you making up stories in your head again about what Lisabeth and I are doing? Geez, I wish you'd write them down. They make me laugh, but then I can never remember them later. Please?"
    A slow smile spread across Peter's face. Lisabeth and Mitzy were the first ones since he'd had to leave Tater and Rufus behind who seemed to enjoy his stories as much as his cousins did. "I reckon I could write 'em down for you Mitzy. That wouldn't be too much trouble."
    The low squealing protest of the bus doors creeping shut sounded. Peter looked over to Lisabeth, about to start on a new topic of conversation. Her horrified gaze caught the words before they could escape from his lips, and the statement scrambled back down his throat so fast Peter choked on it. New words squeezed past the old ones. Peter closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath of the new plastic smell of the bus combined with the fruity smells of both Simpson girls' shampoo. "Do you figure I should hold my hand up against my face all day? I couldn't think of no way to make it seem smaller, and if I popped it well, then I'd have a big ole bloody spot on my face that couldn't nobody mistake for anything except what used to be a zit. I— Lisabeth. Lisabeth. Are you gonna answer me?"
    Lisabeth shook herself, tearing her eyes from his mountainous zit with a palpable effort. "Ah… no, probably best if you don't show up all bloody on your first day. Whoa. I don't think I ever saw one look so… angry though." Her lips quirked up a tiny bit at the corners, and Peter fought to keep his temper reigned in. He recalled how often he'd made fun of Randy Markums, wincing a bit at what he now realized had been a humiliated expression on the other boys face. Well, he— opening his mouth he set to tell Lisabeth to just quit talkin' about it. "You plum know just how ta stab a fella right through the heart, don'tcha?"
    Lisabeth clapped a hand over her