Free Bladed Wings by Jarod Davis Page A

his arms with every intention of being surly and insulted, but his body broke and he had to smile, had to laugh at her even as she started, “Can’t beat me! You think you can, but no! No one beats the Jenny.”
    “The Jenny?”
    “I’m the only one.”
    “Right.”
    “The only one who counts,” she said. One arm pressed against the rail, Jenny faced him. Timothy snuck a glance at her, and he thought this was fantastic, perfect, every adjective he could hope for. “And as the only one who counts, I know you need to tell me what you were thinking about.”
    “A girl.”
    “Really? Girlfriend?”
    “No,” he said, but this felt too awkward. He could’ve sat there and complimented her without ever telling her, and that depressed him, so instead he reminded her, “I came up here to help you.” And he loathed how helping her could lead Jenny back to the boyfriend. Jeremiah would’ve played saboteur, but then Jeremiah didn’t fall in love. Not like this. “What’s changed?”
    “He won’t tell me anything. It’s like he had that line about his brothers and being great with kids, but after that he won’t say anything about himself.”
    “That’s a problem. Right?”
    “You are a guy, aren’t you?”
    “Uh, yeah. Definitely.”
                  “It shows,” Jenny said with her same half-hidden smile.
                  “Why does it bother you?”
                  “I guess I’m not sure it does, but then it feels kind of—I don’t know—dishonest.”
                  “You don’t trust him.”
                  “I don’t have any reason not to,” she said. “He’s always been really sweet, always this guy who’s more gentleman than anything else. And I’m happy when I’m with him.”
                  “But there’s still something bothering you.”
                  “Yes.” She spun around her back against the railing, “Am I crazy?”
                  “No,” Timothy said. “But maybe you should talk to him. Have you tried?”
                  “That would be the sane thing to do.”
                  “Exactly.”
                  “But should I have to? I mean, we’re dating. Three months. Shouldn’t he have shared something with me already? It’s not like I’m not paying attention. I really am, and I try asking questions, then it somehow always comes back to me.”
                  “Sit down. Talk to him. Not very exciting, I know, but it could work.”
                  “Thanks Timothy.”
                  “No problem,” and he took that as his invitation to leave. It sucked, though he wouldn’t be the guy to hang around her with a puppy’s devotion—no matter how much he felt like a puppy. No matter how devoted he became.
                  He was half way back to the stairs when she called after him, “Timothy?”
                  “Yeah?” Too much hope.
                  “You’re different, you know? Good different.”
                  “That’s because I’m the devil.”
                  And she laughed again, “Nah. You’re too nice for something like that.”
    “What’re you doing?” Timothy opened the door and half-floated across the room. Back at his bedroom, he tossed his coat onto his bed and came back to the living room. It was a bit cold, but somehow he savored the sensation as if the radiance of having been with Jenny could keep him warm against any temperature in the real world.
    “Studying something,” Jeremiah answered and perked up when he saw his friend come back into the living room, “But the real question is, what have you been doing?”
    “What? Why?” Timothy asked, fighting the urge to hold up his hands.
    Jeremiah squinted like he’d find something in Timothy’s expression. Maybe he did, because he pointed out,