South of Sunshine by Dana Elmendorf Page A

made fun of me as we were walking down the aisle, I dove—flowers and all—and whaled on that poor kid.”
    “Ohmygosh, Bren.” Laughter shakes my body. “I cannot believe you kicked your cousin’s butt in the middle of your aunt’s wedding.”
    “He called me ‘la cabra en un vestido.’ Which means ‘goat in a dress.’” I’m rolling with laughter now. “Nobody calls Bren Dawson a ‘la cabra en un vestido’ and gets away with it.” She stops laughing and gives me a mock-serious look. “I knocked his molar out.”
    “That’s awful. And you gave me crap for killing satanic rodents. I think we’re going to change your CB handle to Cabra en un Vestido.”
    “Absolutely not. Long and Tall works just fine.” She shakes her head, smiling, and sighs. “After that, I guess my parents just knew. By the time I was almost thirteen, we had ‘the talk,’and when I asked detailed questions about girls and what it felt like to kiss them, we had another kind of talk. I don’t think it surprised them. I’d never really been the classic girly type growing up. After that, they were open doors to anything I had questions about.”
    “Wow. I don’t see my mother doing any of that.” I stare at my lap. “My mother’s like this neat and tidy, everything-fits-just-so, kind of woman. Sometimes I wonder if going against the grain is really worth it, when everyone else expects me to be this certain person.”
    When I look up, Bren’s fierce gaze burns through me. Her leg bobs up and down, and she stares at my lips. “I’ll make it worth your while.” She leans in and presses her lips to mine, keeping them there for the longest, most glorious two seconds of my life. She smiles against my mouth, then pulls away. “We’ll figure it out, together.” There’s conviction in her gaze which makes me believe her.
    From my periphery I see Van coming out of the store. Bren does too. She leans back just as Van opens the car door.
    “Brrrr.” He shivers. “It’s wet and cold out there.”
    I couldn’t disagree more. My entire body has been set on fire.
    “Colder than a witch without her metal bra on?” Bren asks.
    Dead silence fills the car. Van and I eye each other. On cue we erupt in laughter.
    “What? I heard it from Misty, I think. Did I say it wrong?”
    “Yes.” Van pulls out of the Quick Stop, dying with laughter. “It’s ‘colder than a witch’s titty in a brass bra.’”
    Bren shoos her hand at him. “Close enough. I almost had it.”
    “Almost only counts in horseshoes,” Van says and turns the CB back on. “Hey y’all, guess what Long and Tall just said.” Van repeats Bren’s mix-up. They roast her Yankee butt like nobody’s business.
    “You guys,” she knocks my leg with hers. “I wish I’d never said anything.”
    “Hey, you know what my momma says about wishing,” I say to Bren. “Wish in one hand and spit in the other, and see which one gets filled up faster.” Van and I guffaw like a couple of donkeys.
    Bren cozies up with her door, but she’s laughing too. Van says over the CB, “Y’all she’s getting pissed now. You better stop.”
    Chuck the Buck breaks through the radio. “Tell her it’s better to get pissed off than pissed on.”
    Sarabeth adds, “That Yankee probably doesn’t know whether to scratch her watch or wind her butt.”
    I break in over the radio waves of insults. “Hey hey, act like y’all got some raising. Don’t be ugly.”
    There is a fumble with the mic and Camp Counselor Drew jumps on. “Hey, Chuck the Buck would know something about that. He looks like he’s been hit with the ugly stick.”
    Chuck mouths off a lame comeback. Southern analogies sling back and forth. They cut Bren down in good humor. When she finally gets a word in edgewise, she says, “I don’t even know what language you guys are speaking. What the heck is a ‘coon’s age’ anyway?”
    We erupt in laughter, and she hugs her side of the car.
    “Ugh.” She covers her