I'm good
at secrets."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Oh, aye? And I suppose you've lots of
secrets, then?"
He said nothing, and worked at keeping the smile off the corners of his
mouth.
She poked him in the ribs, then got him in the stomach as he moved to
protect his chest. "Secrets, huh?"
He shook his head and clamped his lips shut. She jabbed a flurry of
pokes and prods at him while he scooted back on his butt, then dug her
clawed hands into his tummy and tickled him viciously. He giggled, then
laughed, then started to hiccup uncontrollably. He shoved her away
roughly and got up on his knees, gagging.
"Oh, I like you," she said, "just look at that. A wee tickle and you're
ready to toss your lunch." She tenderly stroked his hair until the
hiccups subsided, then clawed at his belly again, sending him rolling
through the mud.
Once he'd struggled to his feet, he looked at her, panting. "Why are you
doing this?"
"You're not serious! It's the most fun I've had since we moved to this
terrible place."
"You're a sadist!" He'd learned the word from a book he'd bought from
the ten-cent pile out front of the used bookstore. It had a clipped-out
recipe for liver cutlets between the pages and lots of squishy grown-up
sex things that seemed improbable if not laughable. He'd looked "sadist"
up in the class dictionary.
"Aye," she said.
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