Finally, it seemed all that struggle she was going through when coming down the hill had ended in her victory. Her heavy breathing only annoyed me as it approached from behind.

Looking over at her, I quickly noticing the unmistakable cringe that had suddenly overtaken her face. Her stare was focused squarely on something just ahead of her.

I followed her eyes, leading my gaze onto the mud soaked grass by the water.

Thats right... She ain't like dirt.

Her face made me smirk a little, eager to watch her squirm like any girl would the moment she took another step closer. Maybe that's a boys way of getting revenge...

"Somethin bothering you?" I said, digging my foot deep into the slushy mud, the sounds of which made her shiver.

She took a step back away from me, her shoes beginning to sink in the mud from the weight of her foot.

"N-No!" She said, letting out a clearly forced laugh.

Her nervous chuckles began to die down as she slowly scanned the shoreline.

"S-So, where's the dock we will be fishing at?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the very idea she was spouting.

"Dock? You's crackin me up! You's think we got somethin like that? Hah! You's really are from some big ole fancy city, ain't ya?"

For once, it seemed that she had caught whatever illness she had given me, her face beginning to take on a slightly more pink coloration.

I pointed to a small clearing amongst the towering weeds beside the water. The mud along the shoreline was loose and sloshed together from the many years I had spent standing in that exact same spot.

"Right there is my usual spot. Don't get hung up on as many branches."

I began to wade through the mud and grass, feeling bugs latch onto my bare legs with every step I took. The summer heat was intense, humid, and overbearing. A bead of sweat had begun to slowly make its way down my temple.

I loved it. That was home to me, deep in the Louisiana bayou. Everything about that place sang to my soul.

I knelt down in the short grass by the water, digging my fingers into the thick mud, the wet coolness of the sludge quickly molding around my whole hand. As I moved my fingers through the dark brown ooze, small bits of pebbles and twigs would brush against my skin. Occasionally I would accidently scratch a rock surface hidden under the slime, sending a small jitter up my arm.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Charlotte screeched, her face quickly losing all color. It seemed that I had just done something completely unthinkable to the girl.

"Gettin worms, what you think?"

She let out a little "eck!" sound, reeling back and away from me. After taking a moment to suppress whatever panic attack she was on the verge of having, she placed her tacklebox on a fluffy bundle of grass. The metal latch popped open, and she began to rustle around inside the small plastic container. After a moment of thorough searching, she quickly twisted around and flashed me a fake worm. The kind that smells like a factory, laced with sparkles and bits of black whatever all inside of it.

"Why not use these? Much more hygienic!" She said with a bright smile.

She looked so proud of herself. Like she was about to change my life forever with her new revolutionary ideas.

I took little fake worm from her fingertips, pretending to examine it in some meaningful way. Her ego seemed to inflate like a party balloon as she watched my eyes beginning to squint as I looked it over.

Her high chin and the smug bend in her smile made very apparent just how proud she truly was.

All of a sudden, that grin quickly disappeared as I threw that fake worm as hard as I possibly could into the water, like I was skipping a perfectly flat rock.

Her jaw dropped, arms flailing through the air like the plastic worm would somehow swim back to her with enough waving.

"What did you do that for?" She yelled, throwing her arms behind her, both fists clenched tight. Her face quickly shot towards mine, looking as if I had just insulted her entire family or something.

I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Them's are useless gutter trash! No fish wants some fake toy! They's want mud, guts, and the wiggles of a worm on a hook!"

She wrinkled her nose. I swore I could see smoke steaming out of her ears. I reached down and yanked up a wiggling worm from the mud, it's slithering body covered in all manners of filth.

"This is what they'll fight over, I tell ya!"

I held my hand out, offering her the little worm. I swear, she must have thought the harmless little thing was a monstrous ooze creature from the depths of the murky swamps by the way she looked at it.

"Get that away from me!" She screamed.

I smirked, leaning closer.

"What? Finally gonna admit you ain't like this stuff?"

S'what I thought...

She leaned further and further away with ever inch I moved.

"Fine fine, preppy girl. I won't make ya touch it. You's welcome by the way."

I took her line, sticking the worm on the rusty hook.

It seemed her heart rate had finally began to settle down.

She lifted the pole, watching the worm dangle loosely on the fishing line.

"W-What do I do with it now?" She asked nervously.

Ain't even know that?

"Ya cast it, then wait for the bobber to plop under. That's how ya know ya got one on there. Then-"

I turned towards her with a smile across my face.

"Ya yank it!"

I watched on as she fumbled with the fishing pole. Everytime a piece of dry mud would chip off of the handle, she would bite her lip. It took all my concentration not to burst out in laughter.

But, fear held my tongue in place. All I could think about was what my punishment would be if I ended up scaring her off for whatever reason. That stopped my antics before they could even start.

After much effort, she finally managed to get her line in the water. She held nervously onto the handle, as if it would spring to life and flail around at any second.

Trying my best to ignore the girl quietly muttering to herself next to me, I focused my attention onto my own bobber in the water.

Andrew and Dennis stood down the way, joking and throwing mud pies at one another.

Looks fun...

I wanted so badly to run over to them and start a stick fight or push Andrew into the water to watch him splash all around.

But alas, I was stuck helping some strange sounding girl with the basics of something I never had to actually put much thought into.

My head dropped like a sack of potatoes hanging over the edge of a table.

I sighed...

There goes my-

"Tucker! Tucker! My bobber! It went under! What do I do?!"

Charlotte's paniced voice rang out through the humid air, scaring the life out of me.

My head quickly shot towards her.

The line of her fishing pole was yanked tighter than a bow string, her hands shaking like a nervous dog left in the rain.

"You got a big one! Ye! Yank that thing!" I exclaimed, my excitement at seeing a catfish the size of my arm getting the better of me.

She did not share in my excitment...

"I-I don't know how!" She yelled, the pole bending into a perfect arc as the line quickly darted all around the waters surface.

The catfish stuck on her hook was fighting for its life.

Pulling.

Yanking.

Panicing.

"What you doin?! It'll snap!" I yelled dropping my pole into the mud below, small chunks of filth flying up and through the air from the impact.

I tried to run as fast as I possible could towards her, but the mud refused to let me lift my feet out of its slimy depths with ease. Each step took much more effort than it should have.

Stupid mud! Let me go dag nabbit!

The fish continued to yank the line, suddenly pulling Charlotte's whole body forward, threatening to send her face down into the muck.

It seemed that the threat of going down and meeting the mud was far too much for her to bear.

"I can't," She screamed, letting go of the pole entirely.

I watched in horror as my oldest fishing rod was quickly swallowed whole by the brown depths, disappearing into its darkness.

Slack jawed, and in utter disbelief, my eyes never left the spot where I saw my lucky pole for the last time.

"I-I'm sorry! I swear, I didn't mean- I just… It was-" She yelled, her hands shivering like they had been dipped into ice water. Her fingers began to curl up, mimicking the position as if the pole was still in her grasp.

"T-Tucker, I-"

I kicked a chunk of mud towards the water.

"Course it's gone! I's afraid this'd happen! Girls always muckin stuff up!" I growled out.

Andrew and Dennis were busy dying of laughter down the way.

"Just got done puttin new string on the dang thing too!" I slammed my palm against my forehead, my dirty blonde hair falling loose into my eyes.

"I mean, why did- How come you- I just-" The image of a leather belt in my father's hand flashed in my mind.

I bit my tongue, almost hard enough to draw blood.

Taking a deep breath, I was determined to calm myself down.

Relax Tucker... ain't her fault. She's new to this whole thing... Just breath... She ain't know how much that pole meant to ya... Come on, Tucker... calm...

I took one last steady breath before opening my eyes... only to see my worst fear come to life...

Charlotte had a small bundle of tears tugging at the corner of her eyes. Her shoulders were raised up, tucking her face tight between them. Each one of her hands clutched her dress tightly. A small sniffle hit my ears like nails on a chalkboard.

No...

My anger quickly transformed into fear… an intense and horrifying fear of my father's belt against my rear end.

I outstretched my hands, waving them like I was trying to stop a car driving down a slick road.

"I-Its alright! I swear, I didn't even like that pole very much! D-Don't cry!"

Too late… she was up the hill in a heartbeat, disappearing the way we came, her little tears flowing through the air, sparkling in the sunlight.

My arms dropped like sacks of flour by my side.

"Crap…"