"Do you really know what you're doing?" The question sound so ominous. First of all, Alfie really wasn't sure who Hattie was talking too. It wasn't like he was at home. He was digging through clothing at Good Will, hoping to find some decent digs for his wardrobe, like plaid camp shirts and loose kakis. He'd found the perfect fedora, so soulful and made out of straw.
"What are you talking about?" His eyes lit as he looked at her. They hadn't talked since forever.
"You know, what I'm talking about." She was mysterious with her arms crossed over her overall jumper. Of course, she was her whimsical pixie self. Still, he didn't know if he could trust her as she eye-balled him.
"I have no idea what you mean." He went back to looking at cabana shirts that were Kramer worthy from Seinfeld. He needed to dress up more with Sheila around.
"I dunno her name, but I know she's still in high school. You've got it bad for a girl in high school." She informed him.
"So, she's....like 17." Alfie looked back at her with a squinty smirk.
"You wish." Hattie squinted harder. "She's a kid. She's Smed and Zeke's baby sister. She's only 15, and you..you're almost twenty-one."
Alfie kept his lips tight. She had to be wrong about Sheila. She had to be. Sheila couldn't be just 15.