By the time we reached the actual beach, I'd already had more than enough of his attitude.
Still, a job was a job, so I turned to the right, ignoring the glorious ocean-like view as I stalked stubbornly along the water's edge without saying a single word to my equally silent companion.
When I snuck a quick glance over my shoulder, Roy was following along behind us, out of earshot, but filming nonetheless.
When he saw me looking, he called out, "You're supposed to be talking, remember?"
I looked forward and muttered, "As if he could tell."
Next to me, Brody gave a low scoff. "He can. Trust me. I know."
And that was the extent of our conversation.
From behind us, Roy called out again, "You're still not talking!"
Fine.Roy wanted us to talk? I had the perfect topic. I looked to Brody and said, "You never paid up, you know."
"For what?"
"Yesterday morning, with the hoses – you promised to tell me why it was such a big secret."
"It wasn'tthatbig of a secret," he said. "Youknew, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but I didn't know why you were hiding it from the others."
"Sure you did."
I had a theory. And it was good one, too. Still, his confidence grated. Grudgingly, I said, "Alright. If Ihadto guess, I'd say it was because you didn't want to get scolded for ruining the 'before' shot – you know, like a flooded hallway or water seeping down the stairs."
"I don't get 'scolded,'" he said. "I get grief. And I wasn't in the mood."
I knew the feeling.Not too long ago, I'd gotten plenty of grief for simply mowing the lawn. Still I had to point out the obvious. "Oh, come on. You'd never get the kind of griefIgot."
"Got that right."
I almost laughed. "So you're not even bothering to deny it?"
"No. Why would I?"
"I don't know," I said. "But if you're not afraid of getting scolded, why keep it a secret?"
"Because," he said, "there'll be a hundred more battles before the project's done. Why fight one I don't have to?"
"But the whole thing's ridiculous," I said. "I mean,anyonecould see that you did the smart thing in preventing further damage." The pronouncement had barely left my lips when I realized something totally dreadful.
I'd just complimented him.
Damn it.
I picked up the pace, even as I gave him a secret sideways glance. From the look on his face, he felt the compliment just as much I did – except he didn't look nearly as horrified.
Quickly, I added, "But you're still a coward for not owning up to it."
Abruptly, he stopped moving, and so did I.
As we faced off, he said, "That's what you think?"
No. It wasn't. Not really.With a loose shrug, I mumbled, "I don't know."
