Page 57 of Class Clown

Nico greeted me with a look of surprise. “You’re up.”

I nodded and took my seat back in front of the window. I was tired, and hollow, but out of bed and clean, which was a fair trade in my book.

“Did you bring food?” I asked, pointing to a bag he was carrying.

He shut the door with his foot and set it on the table. “Cole said you wanted something with more fueling power?”

I grinned. “Definitely.”

“How’s the fever?” he asked.

I shrugged. “The meds are doing their job.”

He unpacked the sack lunch and laid it in front of me while I brushed at my long hair. The simple lunch of sandwich, chips, and cookie made my mouth water, but none of it looked as good as the apple juice. I put down my brush and reached for the bottle, uncapping it and taking a big swig.

“Ah, the body was built to run on apple juice,” I said after I swallowed. “Thank you.”

“I had to do a colonoscopy before one of my deployments, and made the mistake of mixing the laxative meds with apple juice, thinking that would make it taste better. A gallon of apple juice was a mistake. I’ve never been able to drink it again,” Nico said in a self-deprecating tone.

I grinned as I unwrapped my sandwich. “That sounds awful.”

“It’s sad, because my dad used to always serve me apple juice and pancakes on Saturday mornings. It was nostalgic.”

I wanted him to keep going, to keep swinging that door into his mind open a little wider, but unsurprisingly, he grew quiet again.

Nico puttered around the cabin while I ate and watched nature outside the window. I was sure he had better things to do than to clean our bathroom and wipe out the empty fridge shelves, but I liked tidy living and thecompany too.

When I was done eating, I packed everything back into the paper sack and leaned back, stretching my arms over my head. I felt sort of normal, and it was great. I went back to working on my hair, lifting my arms high to begin braiding, but stopped when I heard Nico come up behind me.

“I, uh, brought you something,” he said without walking around to face me.

A fun-size chocolate bar was placed on the table and my arms dropped, my hair freeing itself to slap against my back, as I reached for it.

“You did not,” I laughed. I unwrapped it and sniffed. “Better than licking your eyes, that’s for sure.”

He chuckled and I blushed. Why had I said that? Oh my gosh. I took a small bite of the bar, trying to pretend I hadn’t, and made a happy sound as it melted on my tongue. It was delicious.

I looked over my shoulder to where he was still standing above me. “Thank you.”

He swallowed and I watched his throat with avid interest as he cleared it. “Uh, I could braid your hair if you want.”

“Say what?” I turned slightly in my seat.

He played it cool. “I saw you starting to braid your hair, but you still look tired. I used to braid ropes for rock climbing, or whatever else we might need them for. Hair can’t be that different.”

A flush climbed from my belly to my forehead at the thought of him having his fingers in my hair. I turned before he could notice and nodded, handing him the brush I’d been using.

“You’ve never done hair before?” I asked.

“I’ve seen women braid hair,” he responded. “When I was stationed in the Middle East I got to know the villagers pretty well. The women would sit outside and braid their daughters’ hair before school.”

“And you’re observant.”

“Yes.”

The backs of his knuckles brushed my neck as he gathered the heavy, damp strands together and began running a brush through it. “You have a lot more hair than most people.”

I chuckled. “I really do.”

---