“No, I meant out of South Haven. It’s so boring I could die.”
“I remember that feeling when I was your age,” I say. “That horrible restlessness.”
“Exactly,” he says, looking me straight in the eye. “Can I tell you something?”
“I guess so,” I answer, feeling more than a little concerned about what he’s about to say.
“I’m saving up to move to California.”
“Really?” I wonder if his parents know that’s what he’s going to do with their money. “What do you want to do there?”
His eyes light up. “I’m going to live in a mansion with a bunch of other gamers. I just need a thousand dollars to buy-in, plus I need a few more followers on Twitch. Then they’ll let me move in.”
My expression must not convey the level of excitement he was hoping for because his face falls. “You probably think that sounds stupid.”
“No, no,” I lie. “That sounds…awesome. I just don’t really know what a Twitch is.”
Colton bursts out laughing, then covers his mouth and tries to stop himself. “Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s notatwitch. It’s just Twitch. It’s a streaming platform gamers use.”
Iaman old lady. “To do what?” I ask.
“To stream your games.”
Ah, that explains it. I raise one eyebrow and just stare.
“I play online games, mostly Fortnite but sometimes Apex Legends, and people watch me.”
Wrinkling up my nose, I say, “Why?”
“Because it’s fun,” he answers, looking every bit as flabbergasted as I am. “Also, I don’t want to brag or anything, but I’m pretty good. I have four-thousand followers.”
“And you can make a living at this?”
“Yeah, the top gamers make a few mill a year.”
“Seriously? I may be in the wrong business.”
Colton gives me a blank stare.
“I’m just kidding. I know I’m not going to make it as a gamer.”
Relaxing his shoulders, he says, “Good, because you’d probably suck balls at it.” His eyes grow wide, and he says, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. I just meant… it’s a skill you need to learn when you’re young.” He gasps. “Not that you’re old or something. Shit.”
I stare at him with the same look I gave Isaac the time he left the toilet seat up and I soaked my ass in the middle of the night.
Shrinking a little, he says, “Sorry. I didn’t mean…you’re actually pretty for someone your age.”
“Oh, am I?” I ask, oozing sarcasm.
“I’ll stop talking now.”
“That would be good.”
The sun is at its strongest now, so the more windows we put up, the hotter and more humid it gets in the small building. Sweat trickles down my back and my mouth throbs at the thought of a tall glass of water, but I keep going, wanting to get this done before the temperature goes up any more than it already has.
We’re almost finished when he gives me a thoughtful look. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes, but you’d be wise to use caution.”
