We settled in for what was becoming a late night. The swamp air hung low and Jodie would occasionally swat flies from her face.
The haze started to sting my eyes. Jodie caught me squinting and offered help.
“There’s some bottled water in the cooler if you want to rinse your eyes out,” she suggested. I shook my head.
“It’s not that. Contacts are getting dry and I forgot my glasses,” I said. She snorted. “What?”
“You still forgetting your glasses, huh? Geez, Randy, you’ll never change.”
“You used to like that about me,” I reminded her.
“Yeah, and it ended up being what I hated about you,” she said flatly. The silence was thicker than the haze at that moment. Jesus, what have I gotten myself in to? First it was just a story about some creature terrorizing locals and now I feel like I’m back in college trying to get the hot goth chick to think I’m cool enough to take my virginity.
Something moved off in the distance.
