I pull my phone out of my backpack and see if I have any missed calls or texts but there’s nothing. On a whim I check my email next, which I hardly ever do over the summer, and, lo and behold, there’s an email from Colt.
Hey man, I got accepted into the United Elites Camp for the summer. Sorry to bail on you. I kind of found out in the eleventh hour…
Blah blah blah. Well, shit.
“Larson’s not coming.”
Blondie makes a clicking sound with his tongue and points at me with the hand holding his keycard. “Like I said, the keycard works. Mystery solved.”
Something about his tone rubs me the wrong way. It makes me want to grab him by the hair and drag him down a few pegs. I grit my teeth because I’m in no mood to get into it with this guy less than an hour into the start of camp. Before I turn away to ignore him, he steps closer and sticks his hand in my direction.
“I’m Dacen Becker, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”
I stare coldly at his hand, wanting to make him squirm, and finally reach out and give it a quick, firm shake. My palm tingles where our hands touch and I yank my hand out of his grip.
“Ryne Sutton.” And the pleasure is all yours, jackass. I bite my lip to keep the words in because maturity and all that.
“Ryne. Cool name. Different. I like unique names. Maybe because I’ve got such a weird one myself.” His smile is shy and he looks at me expectantly.
I ignore the flutter in my stomach. This isn’t scout camp. I’m not here to make friends nor am I here to have an idle chit chat with random people. But instead of walking past him and ignoring him, I shrug. “I guess. I got kinda tired of being called Rhino as a nickname growing up, but it’s an okay name.” My lips turn down into a frown, but it’s not because of Becker. It’s from my own word vomit. Why the hell did I just tell him that? I’m not normally one to offer up personal information.
He chuckles lightly and nods. “I know how that goes. I’ve gotten called other names more often than my own name over the years. Aside from mispronouncing my actual name, I’ve been called Jason more times than I can count, although that’s probably my own fault. I told my mom we should just change my name to something like John but she wouldn’t have it.”
He laughs and I bite back a smile. I don’t want to like this smug bastard but he’s kind of funny. Instead of responding I pick my bags up and throw them onto the foot of my bed, one at a time. Then I plop my ass down in the middle and lie back and let my head hit the pillow. Dacen turns back to his bed and continues unpacking. After a few minutes of silence, his stomach growls so loudly the people in the next room over could probably hear it if they listened hard enough. He sits on his bed, bent over tying his shoelaces, then stands up and brushes off his running shorts like they’re full of wrinkles or something. They’re polyester shorts, dude, you’re fine.
“I’m going for a run if you want to come.”
I side-eye him from my spot on the bed. “Did you not just hear the nuclear bomb that went off in your stomach? You should eat something first.”
“I’ll probably grab something on my way back.”
Running on an empty stomach is like trying to drive a car to the next town over with the gas gauge warning light on. You might make it just fine, or you might find yourself stranded on the side of the road with nobody around to help. But it’s his choice. Not my circus, not my monkeys, as Aunt Lily is so fond of saying. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, but I can’t just let the guy pass out somewhere. With my luck, he’d faint from lack of nutrients, hit his head, and have to go home, and then I’d get stuck with an even more obnoxious roommate.
So for purely selfish reasons only, I sit up and swing my feet back down to the floor. “I guess I’ll come. I could use another workout anyway.”
“Anotherworkout? How many workouts do you do in a day?”
I can admittedly be a bit gung-ho about working out, especially running. It’s something else that helps clear my head.
“Depends.”
“On what?” He presses me for more information as he grabs his foot behind his back and stretches.
“Do you always ask this many questions?” I bite out a bit sharper than intended.
“Are you always this evasive?” he retorts just as quickly.
We stare at each other warily for a few seconds.
“Whatever,” I mutter. “Are you gonna try to talk my ear off the whole time? Because if so I’m wearing earbuds.” I flash him an overly saccharine smile, trying for whatever reason to get a rise out of him. It doesn’t work though, and his own expression morphs into a smile so deep dimples appear on his cheeks. I don’t know what’s so amusing though. “What?” My head cocks to the side and my eyes roam over his face. I have the sudden urge to dig my pointer finger into one of his dimples just to see what it feels like.
He bites his tongue between his teeth and turns his head to the side, shaking it slightly. “Nothing,” he laughs lightly and leans down to tie his shoes. It’s then I notice his socks. They’re white athletic socks, but they have little tacos on them. Can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone around here with socks like that before. Even if they had them, not sure they’d be gutsy enough to wear them.
“Your laces are already tied. You sure you don’t want to eat first? Seems like your brain ain’t firing on all cylinders right now.”
He stands back up again and shrugs. “You ready?”
I hold up my phone and gesture to my backpack. “So do I need the earbuds?” Dacen rolls his eyes and mimes zipping his lips and throwing away the key. I smirk and make a grand sweeping gesture with my arms toward our door. “After you, then.”
