“If slow and steady is good enough for the tortoise, it should be good enough for all of us.” Juno gives me an encouraging nod while I use my feet to roll my chair backward towards the mini fridge that’s squeezed in between the two desks we managed to cram in here. Lucky for me, my office-mate TAs for more midday classes, which means we don’t often have to share the small space at the same time.
As it is, it always gets a little too humid when Juno and I are both talking and breathing in here during our lunch. It’s basically a closet being passed off as an office, but it’s not like we have any standing to complain about it.
Juno carefully moves my papers into a neat stack on one side of my desk while I pull out the sandwiches from the mini fridge.
“All jokes aside, I really am proud of you for sticking with this.”
“All jokes aside?” I raise my eyebrows and pass them their sandwich. “No innuendos about my personal trainer? No witty remarks about the protein shake I shamelessly guzzled down this morning?” I shake my head in mock disappointment andtsk. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”
“Oh, no, no. I only meant that one singular statement would be free of jokes. I would now like to say that you should guzzle down Butch’s protein shake.”
“Funny,” I say blandly, unwrapping my sandwich and taking a bite. My stomach squirms a little, the same way it has done every time I’ve considered asking for Juno’s take on something for the past week. It’s probably completely irrelevant now anyway, and not worth whatever extra teasing it will earn me, but it keeps bugging me, and part of me thinks if I say it out loud, I’ll hear how ridiculous it sounds and be able to laugh it off.
“What?” They eye me curiously, biting into their own sandwich and chewing slowly.
I sigh and put my food down. “Something kind of weird happened, and I’m sure I’m reading into it…” I hedge. “But I think Butch invited me camping.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Juno squeals, slamming their sandwich down so forcefully that bits of lunch meat and crumbs sprinkle my desk like confetti. “Duuuuude, camping is code for boning. When are you going? How exactly did he ask you?Whendid he ask you and why the hell didn’t you text me immediately?”
“Whoa.” I hold my hands up to slow them down. “I don’t think it’s like that. He said him and the guys were going. I’m assuming he means the other gymbos.”
“Gymbos?” Juno snorts. “I love that. I’m stealing it.”
“Focus,” I groan. “It was a little over a week ago, and he hasn’t brought it up since, so maybe he didn’t even mean it. It sounded like a personal training thing. He talked about rock climbing and said something about fitness being a lifestyle. I don’t know, it sounded like he was trying to sell me on one of those alpha male weekend seminars or something.” I was right—as I say it out loud, it sounds more and more silly. He was probably trying to get me to pay for some kind of membership add-on. How many times is he going to manage to honey pot me with that damn smile of his?
“Maybe ask him to clarify?” They shrug, clearly losing enthusiasm for this reverse Trojan horse of gossip. It looked exciting from the outside, but with a closer look, it’s a whole lot of nothing.
“Yeah, okay,” I scoff. “Hey, Butch, are you trying to get me to pay for an outdoor fitness retreat or do you want to do me?”
“You never know unless you ask,” they insist, picking their sandwich back up while I brush the crumbs off of my desk.
“Hard pass,” I mumble around another bite of my lunch.
“Well, either way, I think you should go. Fresh air, rock climbing, getting cold enough to crawl into his tent and ask to cuddle…” Juno gives me a wicked smile. “Sounds like a perfect weekend to me.”
“Sounds like a fantasy.” I chuckle.
“Exactly.” They grin, clearly missing my point.
BUTCH
Usually, by the time Fender and I get home from Sweat at the end of the day all I want to do is watch ESPN in my underwear. But I was too keyed up to sit around tonight. I stop at a crosswalk to wait for the signal, jogging in place so I don’t lose my momentum.
The song playing in my earbuds switches over to Queen’sAnother One Bites the Dust. It’s always been one of my favorites to jog to, with just the right beat to hit a perfect stride, but now a memory of Percy at the gym yesterday jumps to the forefront of my mind. When this song came on, he started doing a hilarious exaggerated strut on his treadmill and singing along with it. I joined in and Fender ended up filming the whole thing and posting it on the gym’s Instagram.
Over the past week and a half, he’s been slowly gaining confidence, but that was the first moment I really felt like he might be coming out of his shell. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. The walk signal flashes, and I jog across the intersection and around the corner, not paying much attention to where I’m headed, just running until I wear myself out.
After Percy’s training session yesterday, the guys decided this weekend looks perfect for camping—no rain in the forecast, mild temps even overnight—and he didn’t come in this morningbecause his university schedule is too busy on Thursdays to fit in a workout. I’ve been wondering all day if it would be wrong to text him about it or if asking him tomorrow morning would be too short notice. I got his number from his sign-up paperwork, so it feels like it might be a creep move to use it to text him, but I hate the thought of missing out on having him come along just because I waited too long.
A bus pulls to a stop half a block up, and my insides jolt when I see a flash of familiar curly brown hair. I’m a little winded from my run already, but that doesn’t stop me from picking up my pace, a smile spreading across my face as I pop my earbuds out and call his name loud enough for him to hear it over the street noise.
“Rocky.” I cup my hands around my mouth and call out.
He hitches his messenger bag higher on his shoulder and starts walking in my direction without noticing me.
“Rocky,” I call again, putting myself directly in his path.
His steps falter and he looks up, his eyes going wide with surprise before a grin twists his full, pouty lips.
