“Good game,” I said to him on the way back to the car.
“It was okay. I misplayed a counter in turn five. I should have been able to win on turn six.”
“Still impressive.”
“I’ll need to be better at the con. Are we eating prior to getting a motel room?”
“Starving,” Jasper spoke up as we stowed our gear in the trunk.
We ended up at an old-fashioned diner off the main drag with red booths, tons of kitschy memorabilia, and prices that Jasper’s app promised us were low. Jasper and Alden took opposite sides of the booth, but I stopped myself before sliding in next to Jasper. Still feeling bad for what happened with the stupid kid, I took the seat next to Alden. His surprised, slightly distrustful expression was further punishment for me not being able to speak up fast enough back at the game store.
“What are you doing?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
“I don’t hate you.” My voice came out too defensive, and his dismissive sigh said he knew it.
“The kid was all talk. I won the game.” Alden made it sound as though that was all that mattered, and maybe to him it was. But I wouldn’t soon forget his hurt expression.
“Hey, this place actually has liver on the menu.” Jasper made a face. “My grandma would be so impressed.”
“And biscuits and gravy. I like it already.” A few places near Gracehaven offered the midwestern staple, but New Jersey as a whole either failed on the buttermilk biscuit part, offering up a doorstop instead, or made glue of the white gravy. I liked the dish, not just because it reminded me of weekend breakfasts with my long-gone grandpa, but because it was a dirt-cheap option. That, some water, and a side of home fries and I still wasn’t at ten bucks.
“I’d rather have liver.” Alden made a face before ordering a chicken sandwich. Jasper got some sort of local burger special with a pretzel bun. Over dinner, we debated pushing on a couple of hours or sticking to the itinerary we’d worked out with Professor Tuttle.
“We were in the car for nine hours. Let’s just get up early. Stick to the original plan,” Jasper said around bites of burger. “I vote we either play some rounds back in the hotel room or see if Columbus has a gay bar that Mr. Newly Legal can use his ID at.”
“We are not going to a bar.” Alden made it sound as if we were proposing naked dancing at a morgue, not a totally legal beer and some people-watching. It wasn’t like any of us could get lucky, not with sharing a room and needing to be on the road early.
“Game is fine. I need to work on my decks some more anyway.”
“You do,” Alden said, not cutting me any breaks despite the fact that I’d just sided with him. Whatever.
We split the check, and I made sure to add to the tip even though my funds were tight. I’d worked enough crappy jobs in the last year to know that every buck counted. The many papers Alden had been juggling contained information for all the planned stops, including motel recommendations, and we ended up at a chain place favored by budget-minded older folks. Personally, I would have been okay with a total fleabag motel at half the price, but I wasn’t going to make too big a stink.
I was still doing mental math when Jasper unlocked the door and revealed the small room with two beds. “Okay, so who’s sleeping with who?”
Chapter Ten
Alden
The two beds seemed both football-field huge—taking up all available visual space and looming large in my brain—and birdbath small, like, no way could two guys share easily. Add to that the fact that I had never slept next to another person that I could remember. Maybe when I was little, but another guy was different. More significant than I wanted to admit, and I was mortified that this possibility hadn’t entered into all my pretrip planning.
Add in that I wasn’t sure what the protocol was. Was I supposed to pick one? Jasper versus Conrad? Or stake my claim to a bed? In the end, I ended up standing there, total deer in the headlights, Jasper’s question rooting me to the spot. And honestly, Conrad didn’t seem much better, staying silent until finally Jasper huffed, which seemed to jolt Conrad into speaking.
“Guys. It’s only sleep.” He threw his bag on the closest bed, then grabbed a pillow and turned it lengthwise. “Jasper, man, try to restrain from cuddling me. Alden, you can have the other one.”
I had absolutely no business feeling disappointed that he’d so easily chosen Jasper over me. Did I want to sleep next to Conrad? Have him lecture me about no cuddling? Accidentally touch arms in the night? Was I seriously sad over missing out on that? As illogical as it was, the pressure in my chest said yes. Yes, I felt like I was missing out on something, and yes, I wished he’d chosen me, like this was dodgeball and I was the kid without a team all over again.