All She Wanted (2) by Nicole Deese Page A

into
our bucket. After a slap on his back to show my team spirit, I pushed him to retrieve
more. He did.
    Only once did someone try a sneak-attack
on my bucket, but I was too quick for him—or perhaps, in reality, they were
not-so-sneaky. All that mattered was my job as bucket guard remained in good standing.
    Our bucket had nearly twenty red
balloons inside it when the insanity really started. The ground around us had
quickly turned into a giant pool of mud. The water that had been poured onto
the tarp to make it slick, had seeped into the already
wet ground causing it to resemble more of a sink hole than a soccer field. The
bursting water balloons that flew all around me only added to this thick sludge.
    Just as I let my mind wander to how I could
help Angie with mud-cleanup once back at her house…I was hit from behind. I
straightened immediately, stunned by the slap of water that soaked my back. Blue
balloon pieces fell to the ground near my feet. It was that moment that I
decided to un-man my station for the first time—to retaliate.
    After plunging my hands into my bucket,
I ran after Briggs.
    I realized way too late, however, that
I should have heeded my earlier intuition. I was no match for Briggs. He was
the expert hunter, and I was Bambi’s mother after the shots were fired.
    He hit his target every single time he
threw a balloon at me, while I made maybe three. Soon I was just running with no balloons in hand at all.
    And where was my faithful partner, now?
The one I had cheered for and encouraged while he had been dying a slow death on
the slippery tarp? He was rooting for Briggs, in fact, all the kids were. And helping
him, too!
    If I hadn’t been so panicked I would’ve
been livid at their disloyalty.
    I trudged and splashed through the muddy-muck
that was to be my final demise, and with one last scream, the world went upside
down.

Chapter Ten
    Briggs
    Okay, so maybe I had started it, but in
my defense it was one balloon.  
    One .  
    How was I to know that it would wake
her inner-Rambo?
    Unfortunately for her, she had the aim
of a windsock in a tornado. When she had started running toward the mud pit, I
knew it wouldn’t end well—at least not for her. I had just halted my launches,
yelling for her to steer clear of it, when her feet were no longer on the
ground. She hit the mud with a smack, sliding on her back.
    I felt sick as I ran to her.
      “Shortcake… are you okay? Does anything hurt?” I leaned over her.
    She was splattered with mud—and that
was just the part I could see. I was certain that her backside was completely
caked with it. She looked up at me, blinking. Her eyes resembled that of a hurt
puppy. She reached her muddy hand up to me as I hunched over her. I took it
without hesitation.
    This is when Charlie went from hurt
puppy to perturbed Pit Bull.
    With one, hard, unsuspecting yank, I
fell face first into the mud. Her laugh was the cackle of an evil villain.  
    I wiped the mud from my face as I
surfaced, “Well played, Shortcake.”
    I helped her up—our bodies resembling
swamp monsters.
    “Will I still get retaliation points
even though my team lost?” she asked, hand on her hip.
    Without thinking, I pulled her to me and
wrapped my arms around her as I laughed. And even through several inches of
caked-on mud and grass, I could only think of one thing:
    Charlie
Lexington is hugging me back.

 
    Charlie
    Clean-up was a bit of a nightmare.
    The taco feed was moved to the backyard
as muddy pants and shoes were the common denominator amongst the group. Briggs
and I were the exception, however. The mud we wore covered the majority of our
bodies.
    Angie laid a pair of sweats and a
t-shirt on her bathroom counter for me to change into after my shower. When she
first saw us walking toward the house, she laughed for a good five minutes
straight. I now knew why she had stayed behind to frost the cake.
    As I stripped off my mud-covered
clothing, my wrist began to throb, a feeling