The Counting-Downers by A. J. Compton Read Free Book Online

and looks at me as if he’s known me his whole life, something at odds with the words that follow. “I’m Tristan.”
    “Matilda.”
    For some strange reason this causes him to smile, though I’m not quite sure why.
    “Nice to meet you properly ,” he says in reference to our brief laughing connection earlier.
    “You, too.” I smile. “But since we have just met, do you want to tell me what you’re doing in my treehouse, Goldilocks?” I nudge his shoulder so he knows I’m joking. I don’t know why I’m so at ease with someone I’ve just met. Somehow, my instincts know what his limits are and that he can handle my teasing.
    He laughs out loud at the Goldilocks nickname, a rambunctious, infectious, addictively raspy sound, which echoes through my senses and around the treehouse walls. “Your treehouse?”
    “My treehouse,” I confirm with a mockingly petulant nod.
    “Well, sorry for trespassing without permission, but I just needed to get away from all the death and doom for a bit. I went outside to take in some fresh air and kept walking once I realized it was the never-ending garden. I’ve never seen anything like this. The garden at the front is lovely, but this is out of this world.” He gestures his arm out and around at the meadow. “It’s nature at its purest, wildest, and most beautiful. Once I spotted the treehouse, I climbed up here to have a better view of it all. You’re so lucky to have a place like this.”
    For a moment, I’m speechless at his perceptive description. I shift my body away from him to face the meadow straight on and clear my throat. “I know,” I tell him, my voice soft as I look out at the meadow. “It’s my favorite place on earth.”
    “I can see why.”
    We’re both quiet for a moment, each reflecting on the untamed beauty of the magical world around us. Once we’ve taken it all in, I break the silence.
    “Well, although trespassers are normally prosecuted, I’ll allow you to share it with me.”
    “Thank you for your generosity, Baby Bear.”
    “You’re welcome, Goldilocks.” I play along while a secret thrill runs through my body from his nickname for me. I hope it sticks.
    “I wanted to introduce myself to you earlier today, but I couldn’t find you.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah, I wanted to thank you for a life-changing experience.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “I can’t say I’ve ever laughed at a funeral before today, but it’s an experience to be recommended and never forgotten.” He smirks, causing his dimples to groove further into his cheeks.
    I laugh at this, both of us reflecting on our momentary loss of propriety earlier. “I can’t say I ever have either; it was a first for me too. I always find humor in the most awkward and serious of situations, but laughing at funerals is a new one. Typical of me that I decide to be inappropriate at my own father’s funeral...”
    “No way, you weren’t inappropriate. The situation was unfortunate but the laughter was appropriate.” He appears to hesitate before he places his hovering hand over mine, which is resting on the floor of the treehouse, squeezing it in solidarity as if sensing my wavering conviction that my impulsivity today was acceptable.
    “Seriously,” he says, bending down to meet my lowered eyes, “you did nothing wrong today and everything right. I thought it was amazing. You were amazing. Your dad would have thought so too. He would have found it hilarious and been laughing along with us.”
    His words strike something deep inside me and resonate throughout my bones. He’s right and reminds me why I did what I did today. I regret embarrassing my mom and grandmother, but I’m not sorry for laughing or taking Oscar away from the situation.
    I’m surprised he’s read the situation so well though, read me so well. His levels of perception extend further than the beauty of nature. For someone I’ve never met before today, he understands the dynamics between all of the people