Page 99 of Drop Three

I guess that’s one way to break in the new house.

The entire Strikers team is fully clothed, body-slamming each other in the pool.I love this team.

It’s pretty incredible to watch them from the sidelines.

“How long do you think they’ll last in there? My guess is ten minutes, give or take a few.”

“Jesus Christ, Bodhi. You scared me,” I yelp at the top of my lungs and calm my racing heart as he laughs.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“You didn’t…well, you kind of did. I thought you’d be in the pool with everyone else.”

“Nah. I’m good right here.”

“Where’s Poppy?” I ask, and his eyes shoot up in silent question.

Yes, I’m asking where your date is. That doesn’t make me jealous.

“She left. Something about an early day tomorrow,” Bodhi tells me, and he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“She’s nice. And beautiful.” I don’t know what made me say that, but I guess I want him to know I’ll be fine if he dates her.

At least, I’ll try to be.

“She is.”Cool, cool.

Bodhi settles in the single hammock next to mine and relaxes casually, twirling the full beer in his hand.

He’s always twirling something. There was one time I caught Bodhi with a fidget spinner. I didn’t think anything of it. I actually think I understand it more now, from knowing him longer.

“You do that a lot.”

His head lifts to meet mine. “Do what?”

The contrast between Briggs and Bodhi is drastic. Briggs wears a smile like it’s his favorite accessory, while Bodhi shows no readable expression.

I’ve learned Bodhi is easily misunderstood.

It takes peeling back the layers of Bodhi St. James to see what an incredible human being he is.

“You twirl things. I always see you fidgeting with something.”

He laughs lightly, enough for me to notice but not hear. “Yeah, I guess I do. It helps.”

“Care to share with the class?” I’m being nosey.

Bodhi doesn’t hesitate. “When I start to feel anxious, it re-centers me. It’s more so in big crowds. Long story short—prison fucked me up.”

There’s so much I don’t know, and even more I want to.

I’m not sure it’s my place to ask.

“Oh.” That’s all I say. My cherry red toenail polish is the object of my attention at the moment, as silence lingers between us.

“You can ask me, you know. I’ll answer. I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

Bodhi stares at me like he can’t look away. He’s intentional and rooted in a firm foundation of confidence. He never sways—kind of like now.

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