The Summer We Believed (Denim Days #1)

Day 4 -- Duncan

I didn't remember how great the Toy Story movies were. Mel and I had watched them all back in middle school, maybe sixth grade. Re-watching the first two was the perfect pick for our rainy day activity. Mel said we were like Buzz and Woody.

"Which one am I?"

"You're definitely Buzz."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Why do you get to be Woody? Buzz's rocket isn't working on all its thrusters." Besides, I thought to myself, Woody's got a bigger circle of friends.

"I don't think he's dumb. He's a dreamer. You're a dreamer. That's why. Woody is more realistic. Sometimes cynical. Don't tell me you don't see the resemblance."

"Oh, and here I was thinking it was because you had a snake in your boot."

Mel grinned. "Well yeah, there's that too."

Anyway, our banter carried on like this while we watched. That was one of my favorite things about Mel. She'd talk with me about whatever random subject I'd bring up, and I'd do the same for her.

By the time we got to the third movie I wasn't sure she still wanted to watch.

She shrugged. "Let's watch the beginning. If it's no good we'll figure out something else to do."

The third one definitely wasn't my favorite when we'd watched them before, but I'd completely forgotten what it was about. Maybe I didn't pay close attention because it seemed so far off when we watched it the first time. But, when I realized Andy was packing up to go to college, my throat clamped shut. I looked at Mel and her cheeks were even pinker than yesterday, and there was no way she'd caught one ray of sunshine with the non-stop rain. She looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

Thankfully, the movie veered off in another direction. Rooting for the toys to escape the daycare and the claw was better, but then we were back to the part about Andy giving away his toys, saying goodbye to Buzz and Mr. Potato Head and Bo Peep . . . and Woody. Mel turned to me, tears glistening in her eyes. "That's what we're doing, y'know?"

"What?"

"We're saying goodbye to pup tents and Yahtzee and these movies. We're being all nostalgic. We're trying to stay kids. I even have to give you away to other people in Florida."

I knew what she was saying, except for the last part. "You're not giving me away. We'll always be friends."

"You don't get it Duncan. You're the fun one, you're Buzz, and I'm... just Mel. You have Cody, but you've always been my brother—"

"Your twin brother."

"Right." Mel's lip quivered, twitching in a way that was half-way comical and half-way the saddest damn thing I'd ever seen. It twitched for what felt like forever, and then she started crying hard. I held out my arms.

She crawled into my lap, curled up and put her head into the crook between my shoulder and neck. "You make friends so easily, then your friends become my friends. After you're in Florida for a while, you'll have new friends, and you'll figure out pretty quick that I'm nothing special," she blubbered.

"That's not going to happen." I rubbed her back and pulled her closer. She was warm, and being cuddled up like this felt like the most natural thing in the world right now. "When you're just Mel, that's enough."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. B. walk into the room and take a giant step back.

"It's all right," I hollered at her. "Mel attacked me for insulting that ugly red sweatshirt. You probably need to toss it the next time she throws it in the laundry, which judging from the way it looks should be sometime around Winter Break."

Mrs. B. put her hand over her mouth, holding back a laugh.

Mel leaned back to look me in the eyes. She pretended to glare at me with her red-rimmed hazel. "I'll have you know it gets washed all the time. That's why it's so faded." She leaned forward and gave me a peck on the cheek.

Girls in general, and Mel specifically, I'd never figure them out. I bad-mouthed the wubbie and got a kiss. Weird. And nice. But weird.