"I think I finally get it."

"Get what?" There was something about the look in his eyes, the confidence, the surety, that had me swallowing hard.

"You." And as he smiled, it was almost smug. "I get you, Oz. You're a little, Aren't you?"

If only I had known at the time just how much those few little words were going to change my life.

The Little Of Oz Series

For a moment, I thought he was going to say something even meaner. His shoulders had squared and his face had become painfully bare, but then a slump commandeered his form and he gave a small nod. /"Sorry, Ozzy./"

/"Mo — mommy said that we could take Milo with us to the seaside if we go on holiday,/" I told Blake, hoping that the shift in subject would eclipse the discomfort.

/"Oh?/" Blake sat a little straighter. His hand had slid under the table, fingers joined with my own, and he gave a discreet squeeze. /"I think that's a great idea. He'd love the sea. He's like you and loves jumping in puddles at the park./"

/"You're not invited,/" Isaac said. He had turned his attention to his plate, smushing a piece of chicken beneath the prongs of his fork. He didn't glance up as he spoke, but it was clear who he was talking to.

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