Page 5 of The Alien Reindeer's Bounty
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, wiping the mustache off with a napkin.
“I’m trying really hard to impress you, college girl.”
She rolled her eyes. “How? You gonna burp the alphabet? We’re not ten anymore.”
The open, playful expression shuttered, and his grin vanished. “I know.”
She poked at her bowl of oatmeal, finding it hard to rally enthusiasm for the lumpy mess or the super awkward tension between them. “You don’t have to impress me.”
“I know.” He opened his mouth, wanting to confess why he really drove all the way out to see her, but he said, “You should eat your banana. We’ll need the energy today.”
“What makes you so sure I’m going to skip class and play hooky with you?” She shoved a spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth, wishing she had added more brown sugar or blueberries. He hadn’t even asked if she wanted to tag along with his adventure—she would, duh, but a girl wanted to be asked.
“Odessa—” He turned his pale blue eyes on her, the dark lashes making them seem all the more striking.
“Not the puppy eyes.”
“Please? Will you play with me?” He batted his lashes, blinking slowly and sweetly.
“Stop that. Your flagrant manipulation is disgusting.” It really wasn’t and her heart beat faster.
Fifteen minutes later, she pulled herself into Mads’ truck. He leaned over the bench and double-checked the fastener. It was… sweet? A little insulting, like she didn’t know how seatbelts worked, but sweet that he wanted to make sure she was safe. He tugged on the shoulder strap, his hand nearly brushing her boob.
“What’s going on?” she breathed.
“Nothing.”
“This isn’t nothing.” The air hummed between them. This felt big. Important.
He shrugged and turned over the ignition. “Let’s go to Devil’s Knob. We can get back before the roads are too bad.”
“Oh, Devil’s Knob.” The steep hill had the perfect slope for sledding. Devil’s Knob was not the hill’s proper name—that would be the Devil’s Knee—but a centuries-long dick joke couldn’t be denied.
Twenty minutes later, they parked at the bottom of the hill and trudged upward, each carrying a snow tube.
Odessa huffed and grew too warm from the climb. She unzipped her jacket. “This sucks. You suck. We could be fighting crime in Hero City.”
“Fresh air is good for you,” he said, not sweating or panting.
“My fire blaster is almost level fifty. That’s pretty important to me.” She and Mads spent hours in the online game, blasting their way through street crime in a fictional city and taking down alien invaders. They used to play on laptops in her bedroom, shouting out orders for a fight and cursing when their tactics went wrong. It was the best. Now they played online via voice chat, if she didn’t have to study and if he didn’t have to work late.
“Your blaster will be there tomorrow,” he said.
At the top of the hill, bright cloth caught her attention. It looked like they weren’t the only ones playing hooky. “How many people do you think have the same idea?”
“No one.” He chewed his bottom lip with an annoyed scowl on his face.
“Could be the local hooligans.”
“I thought we were the local hooligans.”
“Then we must defend our street cred from these interlopers,” she said with forced bravado.
He snorted and Odessa puffed up with pride, knowing she could make him laugh. Handsome and popular, many kids at school had wondered why they were friends. And they were right to wonder. Back when she was the girl who loved to explore the woods and he was the kid wearing antler headbands, proximity made them friends. They were neighbors. Of course, they were friends.
Their friendship shifted somehow when they reached high school. Odessa grew awkward in crowds and Mads flourished. His smile still made her feel like the most important person in the universe, but jealousy gnawed at her when he shared that smile with others.
College brought another shift to their friendship, with him still back in their hometown. The distance wasn’t easy. She missed him desperately for the first few weeks.
