Friendly Dating 2 - Ethan

Chapter 17 - Heat Fatigue

I am overwhelmed by my own brilliance. True, I'm usually the only person who realises that I'm being brilliant; still, I'm blown away right now.

I built myself a ladder up the side of the Croft's house!

Well, technically, I just attached some brackets to the stone to get the strands of ivy I tore loose back into their places, but I did it in a sneaky way that now makes it super easy to climb up the wall if you know where these brackets are. It is my wall now, and I plan to use it! I won't think about the weirdness of that statement too much.

No outsider could randomly see my ladder and just climb it; the brackets aren't visible unless you dig for them among the leaves; besides, home invasions are not something that ever occurs in Egret's Rest. Still, I was very careful.

When I finished my task, I went to my room, took a shower and then I whistled for Kira to let her know that I'll meet her at the gate in ten minutes, which gave me enough time to unpack the dishwasher. I mean "whistled for" quite literally. Grandpa Alistair taught me a technique where you tuck in your lower lip and blow over it in a sharp puff of breath. It produces a loud, shrill, bloody annoying sound that cuts right through bone and marrow.

He uses it to call his sheepdogs, and it works really well; it works just as well on Kira. If I call her by name, she generally ignores me or hides, but when I whistle like that, she charges at her window to glare at me with flushed cheeks and narrowed eyes. Cutest thing ever! It's very effective.

Well, that ten minutes passed about three years ago, and I'm still standing at her gate, sweating like I've sprung a leak. For a while, I watched the Olsen, Winslow and Marple kids (three boys and a girl ranging from about eight to 11) riding their skateboards in the street. They were trying really hard to learn to ollie, and when it became clear that there was soon going to be blood and missing teeth, I stepped in and demonstrated the easiest way to them. You snap down hard on the tail of your board, pull your knees up as high as you can, level the board with your front foot and land. No problem!

We even had a little lesson where I ran beside each of them in turn, ready to grab them if they fell while trying. I'm proud to say that they are now doing ollies all over the place like pros. It's not that long ago that the guys and I taught them how to ride. Next, I'll teach them the kickflip.

I'm sitting on the low double pillars where our front wall joins the Crofts', admiring my students, when sounds of screaming catapult me to my feet. It is Mrs Henderson, three houses along from ours on the road circling the small children's park, and this time her meltdown is not because I used my superior styling skills on that naked stone girl pouring water into her fish pond. The cause of her distress is Rampant, her very aptly named black Labrador.

Whenever he gets a chance to escape from the yard (usually when Mrs Henderson is entering or leaving with her car and doesn't tie him up for the event), he makes a break for it, and it turns into a chase scene from a Disney movie. If the dog could talk, he'd be shouting: "bird, bird, bird!" chasing after a bird, just to switch direction and go: "butterfly, butterfly, butterfly!" with his tongue lolling happily from his wide open mouth.

I've seen Mrs Henderson run up and down and back and forth on many occasions, trying in vain to catch her excited dog. It's really entertaining, but I do eventually help her. She needs the exercise, though. If she didn't run after Rampant on occasion, she would permanently be staring at her computer screen, searching the internet for ways to punish me and my friends for our transgressions.

Besides, I've shown her my proven technique to catch her dog over a hundred times. I don't get why she never tries it. It's not even nearly as hard as doing an ollie, and just look at how quickly the kids got it. Mrs Henderson could still do it in her designer clothing and high heels... she wouldn't even break a nail. Maybe I should wear some of her clothes next time and prove it to her.