Ambivalence

Terror and Dead Shot

Camila

"Sorry you missed out on a good run this morning?" I asked Lauren as we walked up the trail in the woods behind my house.

She had just gotten dressed for a run, wearing the same type of sleeveless hooded navy top and dark, loose-fitting running pants as before.

"It's fine, we both overslept. Besides, I wouldn't have known how to get back anyway," she said, throwing a stick for Thunder, who watched it fly over her head and then made a dash for it.

My parents walked only a few feet ahead of us, hand in hand.

When I was younger, I had thought their public displays of affection were the most embarrassing thing in the world. Now when I watched them, I found myself hoping for a time when I could be like them. (girl you are already doing it in real life with yogurt boy . stop torturing us)

"How long have your parents been married?" she asked, bending down when thunder came back.

"They got married the day after my mother's eighteenth birthday. They actually ran off together, even after my grandfather asked them to wait."

"Really?" she said, glancing up to my father.

I knew why. She seemed like a real stickler for following rules. "He's a romantic, while my mother, she's more logical, and she said that she knew she wasn't going to be with anyone else, so why wait? It worked."

"So all those books in the basement are his?" She grinned. "There were a lot of very steamy love—"

"Those are my books, and they aren't steamy, though they are blush worthy, all right. My dad's more into thrillers and mysteries with a dash of romance in them. His favorites are any books that take place around the time of the Second World War." If there was anyone that could go on a book rant better than me, it was my dad.

"Good to know."

"For what?"

"Research. I am still being tested. Lunch this afternoon was proof of that," she replied.

I wanted to hang my head at the thought of it. My father had prepared lunch and made sure to add so many peppers to his famous chili con carne that my eyes watered. I wasn't even sure how Lauren ate it. "How much water did you drink after that?"

"I drank all the milk in your fridge, and then a glass of water after that." We laughed. "After going through that, I can make it through anything."

It was then I noticed we had followed my parents right off the path and into the clearing of trees on the flat grassland where Austin, Hailee, and Troy all stood with lacrosse sticks. The two nets were set up behind them. "Guys—"

"Up here, we don't play no baseball, now do we, Guys?" my father asked, grabbing a stick.

"No, sir!" his army yelled.

"Laur, did you know Camila played lacrosse?" My mother joined in on the torture, taking the stick Hailee handed her.

"Mrs. Cabello, Mila didn't just play lacrosse, she was The Terror." Troy stretched the words out. "In fact, when the girls' team was cut her junior year, she played on the boys' team, and they were still scared."

"Poor old Andrew to this day still has a scar under his left eye from that time she socked him." Austin put his arm around his shoulder. "Good times."

"Lauren, if you would like to be the ONLY one sitting out, that's fine. I won't judge you. We get a little rough around here."

My dad threw me my stick, ignoring my glare.

"In fact, that's great. You can be the doctor."

"Dad...is this good for your heart?" I said through my clenched teeth.