Page 9 of Class Clown

“I take it that’s your side?” he asked, nodding toward the mountain of fluffiness.

“I’m a woman of comfort and style.” When he didn’t respond, only kept staring at my amazingly fluffy princess bed, I shuffled back a few steps. “Okay, good chat. I’ll be at the health center, so . . .”

I spun away, snagged my medical books off the table, and nearly ran out the back door and down the long dirt path to the Bearadise Lodge where I was hoping to find Cole. My heart pounded and all I could think about was how best to give Cole the dead leg of his life, and how I desperately wished I could call my friends to share this horrific development.

I’d read the romance novels, I knew the old one-bedroom scenario, and it was brutally unfair that the universe put me in tight quarters with a guy who was so . . . just . . . eww. A total empty vessel. I couldn’t imagine being comfortable with him sharing my space, cataloging my every move the way he’d done when we were young. I’d have to sleep with a knife under my pillow in case he turned out to be an actual psycho.

Plus, he’d scared me away from taking that truly necessary shower, or changing into fresh clothing.

I hustled into the main door of the lodge, unable to even run my fingers through my hair because my arms were full of books, and asked around until someone told me that Cole was in his office and gave me directions. I didn’t bother knocking, but burst in to find him talking with two or three people, all of them with notebooks on their laps.

“Ruby,” he said happily, not reacting at all to my abrupt entrance, “good. Everyone, this is my sister Ruby. She’s our staff RN for the summer.”

I managed to offer cheerful greetings as introductions were made, because this was their first impression of me and I was going to beprofessional even if my hair was matted, my shirt was wet, and my chest was heaving with a mixture of indignation and high-altitude breathing issues. However, I couldn’t have told you any of their names or roles five minutes later. Cole, having always been able to read me like an open book, quickly wrapped up the meeting and hustled everyone out before closing the door and facing me.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Do you know who is currently setting up his bunk across from mine?” I hissed, slamming my books down on his desk.

He had the nerve to smile. “I didn’t think you’d mind. We’re all family, sort of.”

I frowned at him. “Wrong.”

“Come on, Rubes. It’s Nico. No big thing.”

I snort-laughed and shook my head. “Why would you think I’d consider him family, or not care that we’d be living in a small space together for months?”

“Because he practically lived at our house in high school.”

I sighed and rubbed at my chest. “Cole, darling brother, I wasn’t home when you were in high school, because you’re four years younger than me. I was away at college. And when I did come home on occasional weekends or summer break, he never smiled, never spoke a word around me, simply followed my movements with those big eyes of his.” I made my eyes big and wrinkled my nose. “I always felt like he had some sort of issue with me.”

“Nico? Why would he not like you? He knows you and I are tight.”

I waved my hands. “Did he pass the background check? Did anyone check his house for bad smells and dead bodies?”

Cole rolled his eyes. “Nico is not a murderer.”

“From my point of view, he fits the profile of a psychopath. Antisocial, unemotional, without warmth or human affection. He sounds an awful lot like Spock from Star Trek.”

“And we all know Spock had a heart.” I raised my eyebrows and folded my arms, and Cole laughed. “You are way off. He’s quiet, not unstable.”

“I don’t remember seeing a single expression cross his face. How did you wrangle him into this?” I asked. “Did he know he would be sharing a cabin with me?”

Cole sat behind his desk and pulled open the middle drawer. “He came to work with me at the rec center after he left the Marines. When I was offered the director position, I knew there was no one else who’d have my back like him, so after talking it through with the board, I asked him if he’d be the assistant director. He agreed, and after all the interviews and stuff here he is.” He pulled a fun-size candy bar out of his desk and wiggled it my direction. “Really, sis, he’s great.”

I snatched the candy out of his hand and unwrapped it while my thoughts bubbled. Nico was great? The kid I’d known had no heartbeat, as far as I’d ever seen. I could definitely picture him as military, but picturing him as a camp director for kids was a huge stretch. He’d make his bed every morning and rise with the sun, probably shine the floors and white-glove the bathroom. He was going to be a man of silent opinions that somehow screamed loudly. This was not going to work.

“Will the kids think he’s great?” I asked, curious. After all, they were the main reason I was here.

“Of course. It’s the whole good cop, bad cop routine. I’ll rile them up and he’ll restore order,” Cole teased with a chuckle.

“If he yells at them . . .,” I began, but Cole grew serious and cut me off.

“It was a joke. Nico has never been a yeller. Neither me or the board would approve someone who was going to be a problem.” He stood from his desk and put a hand on my arm. “High school was hard for him, and yes, he was quiet. But it’s been a long time, and I promise that he wouldn’t be my lifelong best friend if he wasn’t a good guy.”

“You said he’s recently left the military. He’s probably got PTSD, and a summer camp could seriously trigger that stuff.”

Cole nodded. “I’m aware of all of that. It has been discussed with many people, including his therapist. The kids and staff will be safe with Nico. He’s okay.”

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