Page 67 of Class Clown

Get to manage my money how I want to.

“Ha ha,” I said out loud to myself. “What money?”

“Rubes?” Cole called. “You awake?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing?”

“Listing the reasons I’m better off single than with a romantic partner.”

There was no response for a beat and then Cole asked, “So, what’s number one?”

“No one steals my leftovers.”

They laughed. “Good point,” Cole said. “Hey, the rangers radioed and they’re coming in about an hour to trap Quinn and relocate him. Do you want to be around for that?”

I thought about it and sat up, throwing my fluffy bubblegum comforter aside and stood. I looked down at myself and wondered if I really should go out there wearing Cole’s too big camp uniform shirt over a pair of sleep shorts. Cole didn’t seem to know I’d commandeered his spare shirt as a sleeper. Did I want to out myself?

I pushed the sheet curtain aside and ran fingers through my long hair as I emerged. It always fell past my back bra strap, but it had gotten longer over the past couple of weeks and my fingertips caught in the snarls at the ends.Nico watched me and I flushed as he took me in, his expression giving away nothing even as his eyes tracked the movement of my hair falling around me. Was he remembering braiding it? Or was he noticing the imprint of my pillow case on my cheek?

“Is that my shirt?” Cole asked.

I tore my eyes away from Nico and dropped my hands from my hair to hold out the bottom of the shirt to look at it.

“This? No. I’m pretty sure it’s mine.”

Ah, gaslighting. A sibling’s best defense.

“Rubes, come on. That thing is huge on you,” he argued. “And I’m down a shirt.”

I rounded my eyes. “Yikes. Sounds like a you problem.”

Nico covered a laugh and turned to pick up a mug of what I was assuming was tea. That’s all I’d ever seen him drinking at the cabin. And that was like the fifth time I’d heard him laugh this morning. Curiouser and curiouser.

Cole rolled his eyes. “I told Nico you could borrow it until you got the right size, which was weeks ago, so I need it back.”

“Do youneedit, or do you want it? Because if youneededit then you’d have been looking for it over the past weeks that I’ve been using it as pajamas. I’m forced to question your choice of words.”

“It’s a uniform, not pajamas.” I held his gaze. “Ruby.”

“Cole,” I responded in kind. Another sibling tactic.

Followed by the stare down.

“I’m your boss.” He tried a new tactic.

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