Class Clown (The Thornback Society #4)

15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Ruby’s Truth: A perfectly roasted marshmallow is the key to a happy life.

Gina and Kristy were stronger than they looked. I had several inches, and dozens of pounds on them, but they were dragging me along like they’d thrown me on a cart and greased the wheels. Their chatter was giving me joy, but I hardly understood a word they were saying.

What I did know is that it was Saturday night. The sky was dark, the stars were out, and the chill air had motivated me to grab a hoodie as I’d been hauled out of my cabin. A blazing fire lit up the center of the flat, pounded dirt area where the camp gathered for flag ceremonies and skit nights. Gina and Kristy were rushing in that direction, with me tripping to keep up.

Flames lit up the faces sitting around on a mish-mash of log benches that had been pulled away from the amphitheater to create a smaller gathering. There was a folding table off to the side with a few people hanging around it, and I was hoping it meant some kind of treat was in my future. Gina read my mind.

“The cook staff brought down the stuff for s’mores, but the good kind,” Gina chirped as she bumped along, her eyes bright with excitement.

“The good kind?” I asked. In my world, all s’mores were the good kind.

Kristy jumped in with a grin, her beanie tugged so low on her head that it met up with her eyebrows. “Yeah. The campers get the traditional graham cracker, chocolate bar, and marshmallows. The staff get a buffet. Graham crackers, or cookies, various candy bars, mini candies to roll the marshmallow in, you know . . . the more elite experience.”

“It’s the best,” Gina added.

Typically, on Saturday nights, there were only a few people around. At least half of the staff left to go on adventures, or go visit their families if they lived close, but this weekend it seemed like everyone was still on site. I hadn’t heard anything about a party, but the health center wasn’t the heart of activity, and since I usually spent my evenings hiding in Cole’s office to steal WiFi, or reading one of my books, I sometimes missed out on information.

A smile tugged at my mouth as I thought about the past two nights that I’d spent playing chess with Nico. I’d never learned the game, having been too impatient in my younger years to listen to the rules, but he’d been teaching me and as we’d sat together at the tiny table in our cabin we’d chatted easily, the comradery between us growing.

We’d covered topics as mundane as the fact that I rarely vacuum, but I mop my floors three times a week, and how I hate paying bills because it’s depressing to watch my money bounce out of my account before it even cools from being deposited.

I gave him the rundown of my favorite cringey reality TV shows where people behave badly but I secretly cheered for them, and I informed him that while I didn’t really have a temper, I was terribly nosey and he’d never be able to keep me from trying to pry all his secrets out.

At that pronouncement, one eyebrow had risen, and I’d taken it as a dare. So far, he’d held out on the really juicy things, but I did discover that he had a penchant for games that were strategic, he didn’t like swimming very much, and he’d always wanted to be in the military on account of growing up as a military brat, following his father around the world.

It was crumbs compared to what I really wanted to know. What made him tick?

Another jerk on my shoulders reminded me that I was being pulled along and I laughed. “You two can stop dragging me. I was never fighting you in the first place. All you needed to say was s’mores and I’d have raced you here.”

They dropped my forearms and I shifted my shoulders around to relocate them in their sockets. With my arms free I took the opportunity to put on my thick hoodie and rub at my chilled arms .

“We couldn’t afford to wait,” Gina insisted. “We don’t want to be back row when the show starts.”

I had no idea what they were talking about, and I didn’t ask, because I was too busy feeling grateful that Gina seemed to have gotten over her crush on Nico. Or, at least the moping part was over. It made her much more pleasant to be around.

As we arrived at the fire I took in the whole scene. I loved observing people, and vibing off their happiness, and this was the place to be tonight. The kids were gone and this campfire was a hot spot of flirting and laughter, with people roasting marshmallows while a guitar or two were being tuned in the background.

I caught sight of Cole at the s’mores table and he waved happily at me. I was happy to see him having a chance to relax too. He was always going from sunrise to at least 11:00 p.m. It was an endless task to keep the camp running smoothly.

“Oh, it’s almost time,” Gina increased her pace even though we’d already entered the circle of makeshift seats. “Hurry.”

When I didn’t immediately follow, my arm was once again grabbed by Kristy who towed me along behind her until I fell onto a log next to Gina, who was patting the seat like she was sure the train would leave the station without us.

“What’s going on?” I asked Kristy as she sat on the other side of me.

“Look,” she pointed across the fire.

I looked over the low flames and saw a group of three guys sitting on logs and holding guitars on their laps, tuning them and chatting. Oh, okay, this was the show. Gina and Kristy were obviously groupies and I half expected posterboard signs to be thrown up any minute. They’d better not ask him to sign their shirts.

I half-listened as they giggled about how good these guys were, but the heat from that forehead kiss Nico had given me still lingered in my mind. It had been a couple days, and the spot had been cleaned, but whatever had flowed from him to me refused to abate. I’d cried myself to sleep in the clean sheets that night, and woken up with some tenderness inside, as though hidden parts of me had been exposed to air and life for the first time in a while. There was a crack on my insides and I didn’t know whether to slap duct tape on it, or let it fall apart and see what happened .

And the quiet evenings talking over chess were only widening that new crack.

“Feelings are temporary and often based on proximity,” I said to myself, a reminder of the conversation I’d had a while back with Hailey. “I should stick with the plan.”

Kristy and Gina both looked at me. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking of a medical journal I was readying recently,” I replied, knowing full well that would shut down any further questions.

The three of us watched as the guys lightly strummed their instruments, and I admitted to myself that there was something pretty attractive about a musical man.

“Does Nico play any instruments?” Gina asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I shook my head. “All I’ve seen him do is basic grooming, work around the camp, and his daily exercises.”

They both leaned forward to look me dead in the face.

“You get to watch him exercise every day?” Gina asked.

“Exactly how big are his biceps?” Kristy grabbed mine and squeezed.

I hid a smile. “He does it before I get out of bed, but it takes a long time. I think he’s pretty thorough in working all the muscle groups. Some mornings he goes out for a jog.”

Kristy threw her hands up and looked to Gina. “This is the information you were supposed to be passing along. I jog. I could have met up with him accidentally.”

Gina shook her head. “It’s a tragedy, the way she has failed us.”

I snickered. “Sorry pals.”

As the two girls launched into a catalog of his physical attributes, I forced an insincere smile and moved around in my seat, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with this topic. Old Ruby would have been the first to sneak peeks at Nico because she loved a good view. I’d usually be the one bringing the pom-poms to the gun show, but I wasn’t sure what I thought now. Nico was so much more than how he looked. And maybe I was only now figuring that out because I’d taken the time to push at his walls until he’d shown me what was behind them. He was not an emotionless robot.

A pang of guilt shattered my fake smile and I hurried to change the subject. “So these guys, do they play for people like this often? ”

“Not often. Just whenever the opportunity presents itself,” Kristy answered lightly. “This weekend people were sticking around, so the guys agreed to play for us.”

I couldn’t pull my stubborn thoughts away from Nico. I was already sweating behind my knees at the memory of my clean sheets and delicious teas, and his serious expressions over the chess board, his hair hanging over his forehead as he looked down at the pieces and thought over his next move.

I’d fight a honey badger in the wilderness to know what was happening in his head. There was no way the man had cared for me when I was sick and kissed me on the forehead only a few days ago. He hadn’t attempted any more affection since then, and I guessed that he thought everything was chill between us.

I had zero chill.

“Girls, question.” I interrupted their chatter, and gave them an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Forehead kisses. What do they mean?”

Gina tapped her lips with her fingertips. “Okay, so I’ve thought a lot about this and it really depends on who it’s from. A family member, it’s totally just a sweet affection. A guy friend, he cares about me. A guy I’m dating, he feels mushy and sweet in that moment.” She nodded.

Kristy thoughtfully pulled at her lips. “I think it basically means ‘I want to kiss you properly, but I can’t yet’. Forehead kisses are significant.”

That wasn’t helping me at all, because in romance novels, forehead kisses were a precursor to baby, I will love you forever .

They looked to me and my lips twisted. “So, let’s say you’ve known someone for a while, but there hasn’t really been much of a relationship there, and then they kiss you on the forehead one day. What does that mean?”

Because, friends, Nico did not give off affectionate, mushy, and sweet vibes. He gave off precise, orderly, logical vibes. His lips touching my forehead was the equivalent of a bomb going off. My confusion and over-thinking were valid reactions.

“Why? Did that happen to you?” Gina asked. Naturally she asked. Who wouldn’t have?

I shook my head and managed a light laugh. “No. I was reading one of my romance books last night and had to go to sleep, but at the end of the chapter the guy she’s kind of falling for kissed her on the forehead. And I wondered how other people interpret that.”

“It’s a move,” Kristy replied with confidence. “In the next few chapters, you’ll see them getting together.”

Gina’s gaze was thoughtful, and I held her eyes, sort of afraid that she might see the truth. She gave a tiny nod and looked down at her feet.

“Well,” she said, casually smoothing her hands over her bare knees, “all I know is that a forehead kiss is only a thing if you make it one. If it ever happened to me, I’d not worry about it. Maybe something happens, maybe nothing does. Either way, it was probably a nice experience.”

I couldn’t decide if she was being nice or blowing it off because she still liked Nico, but regardless, I let that sink in. I could be cool. There was no reason this had to be an issue. Nico had felt affectionate for his friend’s sister in a moment of her vulnerability, and he’d expressed that in a simple way.

Such a buddy.

I felt a warm body slide in next to me and looked to my side to see Nico’s dark, smiling eyes looking back at me. Hoping like crazy he hadn’t overheard what I’d been discussing with Gina and Kristy, I offered him a welcoming grin.

“Hey, can I sit with you?” he asked, his shoulder pressing against mine.

“Of course,” Kristy gushed, oblivious to the fact that he’d been speaking to me.

I quickly nodded. “Yeah.”

He looked around me to Kristy and Gina as they greeted him, politely greeting them in return, and I watched his mouth move as he spoke with them. Maybe he hadn’t meant to kiss me and hold me close to him. Maybe I was still that girl who made him feel shy, and I was reading a lot into a little.

“You taking requests tonight?” one of the girls behind us called out, and I snapped out of it as the guitar players looked to whomever was talking. “Let’s hear something .”

The three guys talked together and then readied their guitars and started playing. The crowd around us let out a collective, ahhhh, and I smiled to myself. Seriously, was there anything better than guitars around a campfire? I was aaahhhing all over the place too .

The talking ended as people tuned in. Those roasting marshmallows fell silent, their eyes still on their roasting sticks as they listened. I hadn’t heard the request, but the chords sounded familiar as the song started, and when the first guy began singing, everything inside of me melted into a puddle in the dirt below me.

I couldn’t breathe as the words whipped right into the center of me. Let It Be by the Beatles. Nico started humming along and suddenly I could imagine him in a dangerous place, weary after a mission, hearing this song and feeling the truth of it. In his face I could still see the young man I’d known ten years before, the one with the seriousness in his gaze as his big eyes followed my movements. My chest grew tight, wondering what he’d seen in those years . . . what he’d seen before then that had given him that serious way of moving through life.

The singer’s voice was mellow, deep, smooth. Beautiful and expressive. It washed over the group and put us into a trance. Without meaning to, we all leaned a little bit forward as though to get closer to the source of the emotion he was creating for all of us.

A few other voices joined in when the second verse began, and Nico was one of them. I could hear his above the rest, and it was as though he were singing it for me alone. He leaned into my side, our thighs pressed together as the song wrapped up, and I grew warm and soft, leaning back, wanting the contact.

My heart was in my throat by the time the song finished. It seemed as though the very mountain felt it, and all the echoes of animals and nature had grown quiet during those few minutes. I understood why Gina and Kristy had dragged me bodily down here. I understood why the group had chosen to stick around this weekend. It was magic.

I’d felt more genuine emotion in the past few days than I had in years. I’d sometimes wondered if I were a shallow person compared to the rest of the world. Where others found angst and sorrow, I’d found sadness that didn’t take too long to work through. I’d never been able to hold grudges, and I usually I took things at face value. I rarely asked hard questions or dug deep, and lived my life in the easy breeziness of optimism.

And now, well, now I felt like all those latent emotions were shifting and I was about to become that guy with laser eyes from the X-Men movies. How would people feel when it came shooting out of me like an unleashed flood of feeling? It was terrifying .

The campfire area burst into applause and I joined in, my heart in my throat. The singer gave one nod acknowledging it before more requests were thrown their way. This time the other guys sang too, and together they were even better.

“How many songs will they play?” I managed to ask when I could speak again.

“I’m not sure. Depends on when they feel done,” Kristy responded.

“They’re amazing.” I gushed.

“And now you know why we insisted you join us tonight,” Gina nodded with a smirk.

“You’re welcome.” Kristy patted me on the back.

“Yeah. Thanks.” I breathed happily.

And they both laughed as Nico’s foot rested against mine.

Nico was called away just before the song playing ended, and when my stomach had settled enough, I made my way to the s’more buffet to check it out. The variety was pretty amazing. I settled on a cookie that was striped with fudge, rather than a graham, and figured I’d roll my cooked marshmallow in the chopped up peanut butter cups when it was ready. I didn’t think I’d be able to eat more than one of the decadent treats, so I was going to make it count.

The group was mellow and happy as the last of the magical music ended. The meadow felt peaceful. Someone handed over a roasting stick when they were done and I made my way to the coals, sitting down on an empty log.

There’s a precise way to roast a marshmallow, and it’s all about timing. A little farther from the heat and it won’t burn, but will get nice and brown if you can be patient. I began a slow rotation, moving at a consistent speed, and watched with satisfaction as my marshmallow started to swell and brown.

“You and Cole, with your perfect marshmallows,” Nico teased as he came to stand next to me, holding his own roasting stick. “Every time I’ve camped with him, I’ve wanted to grab his stick and plunge his marshmallow straight into the coals to get it over with. ”

I looked up with a smile and it faltered at the warm contentment on his face. It transformed him into someone tempting and intriguing, and basically my kryptonite. I was not going to go all Lois Lane for this guy. I was obviously losing it. It was probably altitude sickness at this point.

Zings can lie, I reminded myself. I wasn’t falling victim to this again. I wasn’t interested in another summer fling, ever again. Nico lived in Texas, and I lived in Utah. End of discussion. We’d sat so close tonight because of the shortage of seating, nothing more.

Rather than the comment I’d been about to make about us Jenkins and our perfect roasting abilities, I blurted out nonsense.

“Marshmallows can help protect an astronaut’s nasal passages during lift-off,” I said.

“Hmm. So they, what, stuff them up their noses?”

I looked back at the fire. “Uh-huh. The mini ones, obviously.”

“Probably good to have a handy food source if things get dicey up there,” he replied, turning his own roasting stick much faster and closer to the coals than I was. “A quick snort and you’re good for a few hours.”

I laughed. “You roast marshmallows too quickly, Dominic James Crawford,” I joked, using his full name to place some safe distance between us.

“I don’t wait for a marshmallow to cook perfectly, and I only eat s’mores the way that nature intended, with a graham and a chocolate bar.”

I watched his marshmallow burst into flame. He lifted his stick, blew it out, smiled at the black crust that had formed, and moved away to assemble it.

“That, sir, was a calamity,” I called over my shoulder.

He waved it in the air. “Perfection.”

I smiled to myself, grateful to be back on light-hearted footing, and continued turning mine, slow and steady, the brown beginning to look superior to all other attempts I’d made in my life – and I’d made some doozies.

“Looks amazing, Rubes.” Cole’s voice sounded from my left and I looked to see him coming across the fire to my side. “A Jenkins specialty.”

“You want it? I’ll make myself another,” I offered.

He shook his head. “That marshmallow is a ten. No way I’m taking such a superb specimen from you. I’ve already had one.” He did a quick look around and landed on Nico’s back. “Ah, I see Nico has burnt and ruined his already. I keep offering to teach him, but he’s unwilling to learn. ”

“I’m unwilling to spend the rest of my time on earth twirling a marshmallow,” Nico corrected as he joined us.

Cole slapped his back. “You’re an okay person, Nico, but you’ll never reach transcendence until you allow yourself to go on this journey.” Nico and I laughed and Cole added. “There are no short and easy paths to long and lasting happiness.”

“Wise words, little brother.” I stood, my perfect marshmallow ready for its debut on the cover of Food Magazine, and walked past Nico to the refreshment table.

“Those are wise words,” I heard Nico say. “Have you taken them to heart?”

Cole chuckled. “Absolutely not.”

Amused, I enjoyed listening to their banter as I put my mallow into a bowl of crunched up peanut butter cups until it was coated, and then used two fudge-striped cookies to squish it into a sandwich.

I took a large bite and made my way back to where Cole and Nico were still harassing each other.

“What is that creation?” Cole asked. “It looks amazing.”

“It looks like diabetes,” Nico smirked.

I nodded. “Totally worth it.” I held it up for Cole to examine. “I think this is my best one ever. If I lapse into a sugar coma overnight, please let Mom know that I do secretly love tofu, and tell Dad that I never learned to shoot a gun.”

“You don’t know how to shoot?” Both Cole and Nico verbally shot out the sentence, which caused several heads to turn our way.

Rather than answer, I stuffed another bite in my mouth and shrugged.

“How do you call yourself a Jenkins?” Cole gaped at me. “I’ve seen you shoot, I know I have.”

I shook my head and spoke around the gooey delight. “Maybe a bb gun, but never anything else.”

“I think you broke his mind,” Nico teased, mostly looking at Cole who was clearly flabbergasted.

I licked marshmallow off my lips. “Looks like you were scared of me as a kid for no reason, Nico.”

At that Cole cracked up and Nico gave me a look. “I wasn’t scared of you. ”

I nodded. “Yep,” I said, rotating my dessert to find another perfect bite. “I’ve figured it out. See, forever I thought you had a serious aversion to me. I couldn’t figure out why. I’m great.” I looked up to see both of them watching me. I cleared my throat and nodded slowly. “I said, I’m great.”

“Totally,” Cole hurried to answer with a smirk.

“So, obviously, I couldn’t be the issue. You told me you were shy, which might be true. You did seem to be sort of stunted emotionally.” Cole snorted out a laugh and Nico rolled his eyes. “But then this whole swoony guitar showcase made me rethink it. You were singing along, so obviously you have emotional depth. Which means, and boys, here we come full circle . . . I terrified you with my gloriousness and possible shooting skills.”

“Oh, that’s definitely it. I’ve known for years and been sworn to secrecy. I’m relieved, honestly, that it’s out in the open.” Cole chuckled.

“Don’t you need to roast another marshmallow?” Nico retorted.

Speaking of marshmallows, I took the final bite of mine and chewed while Nico and I watched each other. He didn’t say a word, and I wasn’t that surprised.

When I swallowed, I licked my fingers clean and said, “It’s really great that we could have this talk. I’m heading to bed. It’s been an interesting week, and an even more interesting night, and I need sleep.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Nico said, without any hesitation.

I pointed to outside the firelight where Quinn was waiting. “I have an escort. The forest creatures will mind their manners.”

He shook his head. “It isn’t the forest creatures I’m thinking about.”

“Are you going to walk all the ladies home, then?”

He looked around the fire and frowned. “All the others are partnered up and use the buddy system.”

I playfully opened my eyes wide. “Are you saying you’re my buddy now? We go everywhere together?”

His mouth pinched, but his eyes crinkled around the corners. “That’s not at all what’s happening.”

“I call dibs on the face mask. I’m oily.”

“Rubes,” he sighed on a laugh. “Are you ready to go back to the cabin?”

“I guess.”

“Can I walk you?”

“Yeah. But bring your singing voice because I expect you to serenade me. Do you know the song Can You Feel the Love Tonight from Lion King? ”

“No.”

I patted his shoulder and gave it a tiny squeeze. “Is that because you were an angry child who was afraid of me and you couldn’t watch Disney movies without feeling empty inside?”

“I wasn’t born when Lion King was released.”

That nearly stopped me in my tracks, but then I remembered. “You weren’t born when the Beatles played Let It Be .”

“True. But the chicks really go for that one.”

I laughed at his retort, and we headed away from the group toward our cabin. Our steps were slow as we walked side-by-side, the sounds of talking and laughter behind us growing dimmer.

As we shuffled along, I could feel a shift in him, and I waited to see if he’d say anything, but by the time we were climbing the back steps of Funky Bunks I gave up on patience.

“What’s on your mind, Nico?” I asked, turning to face him where he’d stopped on the gravel path, rather than following me up the steps.

“Why are you trying to matchmake me?” he asked.

“Originally it was because Kristy and Gina were crushing on you and I thought it would be fun to watch you squirm under their attention.”

“Oh.”

“Kind of like the world’s funniest episode of The Bachelor. Only it would be The Bachelor. That was when we first got here, though. I got over that and started to think that you’re not too bad, and maybe you’d be happy with some romance in your life. But now . . .”

He prodded. “Now?”

“Well, now I think you should just, I don’t know, choose one for yourself, I guess.”

“So, you want me to pursue one of them?”

I couldn’t push the words out. It would be a lie, and I’d sworn off lying. I swallowed hard as he watched me. Finally, unable to figure out what to say I shrugged and held up my hands.

“Not really, no. I’m hanging up my matchmaker hat. I was terrible at it.” I tugged at the sleeves of my hoodie. “I guess that now I want you to go after what will make you happy.”

And I meant it. He was not who I’d thought he was, and he didn’t deserve my manipulations. He deserved good things .

His expression softened, and my heart thudded in my chest at the way he was looking at me.

“Alright,” he said.

“Okay,” I responded lamely.

He turned, heading to wrap up some of the never-ending camp work, and I slunk back into our cabin, wondering what he’d choose to do now.