Page 53 of Facing the Line

Hadley: Thanks again for inviting us to come visit in a few weeks! I can’t wait to see your apartment.

Hunter: Natalie and I are excited, too. I’m glad you can make it.

Hunter: Speaking of apartments, how’s yours?

Hadley: Great! Evan and Jonas are a trip to live with.

Hunter: I remember. Watch out for Evan, he’s crazy.

If only he knew. Evan isn’t who he should be worried about. I pocket my phone and try to put my brother out of my brain.

“Hey.” Rapping on the doorframe to Jonas’s room, I peer into his space. Not surprising to me, he keeps it neat. His gray duvet is smoothed over his bed and the space feels minimalistic. Not cold, but simple. There’re no posters on the wall, no hockey pennants or photos. There’s also no dirty laundry on the floor or dust on top of the dresser.

At my voice, he lifts his head from the book he’s reading at his desk. “What’s up?”

“Wanna go for a run? It’s a little cooler now that it’s later. And I’m sick of sitting inside in the air conditioning.”

Standing, he puts his book down and stretches. I don’t bother to keep my eyes off the sliver of skin visible between his shirt and his shorts. Yummy.

He smirks. “Once you get outside, you might change your mind about that air conditioning thing. It’s so humid, we’ll be swimming through campus instead of running.”

“But you’ll come?”

“Yeah, of course.” He slides open his closet door—all his shirts hang neatly on matching hangers—and grabs a pair of tennis shoes. “Give me five minutes.”

While he gets ready, I grab a water bottle and stretch a little. After classes, I came right back here to work and study. I’m tired of being cooped up, I don’t care how hot it is.

I immediately regret that thought when we step outside.

“What was it Evan said? As hot as Satan’s butthole?” Jonas pants on the sidewalk. “Accurate.”

“It’s somehow more humid now than it was earlier. I didn’t think that was possible.” I bounce in place, not willing to give up this stupid idea, but not sure I want to run in this heat, either.

Jonas puts his hand on my arm. “How committed are you to running outside?”

“What do you mean?”

“We could go to the Rec Center.”

I frown. “My favorite elliptical machine is broken.”

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this.” He holds up his hand, three fingers like a Boy Scout. “So you have to swear to secrecy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you swear?” he asks, narrowing his gaze.

This is weird. I glance around us, but everything’s normal. “I guess so.”

“Raise your hand and repeat after me.”

Rolling my eyes, I comply.

Jonas’s eyes are solemn. “I, Hadley Thompson, being of sound mind and body?—”

“Am I making a will? For crying out loud, Joe.”

He ignores my grumbles. “Repeat it.”

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