“You do have the rep for owning some serious crazy, Spaceman.” Lucky used Jim’s SEAL-training-acquired nickname as he laughed.
“You actuallywantthem, sir…?” Rio couldn’t believe it.
“I actually do,” Jim answered. “It’s gonna be like an afterschool special movie. Everyone’s gonna learn the shit out of this.”
Lucky was laughing his ass off.
“Learn what?” Dunk asked, starting to laugh, too.
“That… I don’t quite know yet,” Jim admitted.
Thomas was seriously concerned. “Lieutenant Slade, sir,” he started, “since you’ve never been an instructor here before, I would respectfully suggest—”
“No, no, no, nuh-no, Thomas, don’t stop him. This is gonna besomuch fun to watch,” Lucky said, still laughing, but Dunk spoke up over them both.
“You want it?” he asked Jim. “You got it. But if I agree to this, my crazy swim-finned brother, you cannot quit. I own you for the next week. No ringing out.”
“Agreed,” Jim promised. “I’m here.”
Dunk grinned. “Bull’s gonna shit bricks and—oh, frabjous day—quite possibly never come back.”
“And then,” Jim said with a smile, “there’sthat.”
***
Ashley found Clark and Kenneth hunched over the Space Invaders game.
Tonight’s dinner had been surprisingly good—a hearty roast chicken with potatoes and carrots, with a spinach and cucumber salad. She had, however, sat alone since her brother and his friend had gotten there early, inhaled their food, and vanished into the lounge.
It was actually interesting the way the other campers avoided eye contact. They looked past her or over her or through her as the tension in their shoulders shoutedPlease God, don’t let the creature with the vagina be part of my team.
Once, when she was a kid, she’d stumbled into her older cousin’s boy-cave in the basement of his suburban house. She thought she’d merely been going down to the rec room, but instead she’d entered a loudly proclaimedBoys Onlyterritory. Shouting and screaming had ensued, and her father had pulled her aside to advise that she be more careful in the future, and not violate their “safe space.”
She’d learned to move about more quietly and not call attention to herself. She’d intended to do the same thing here—until she’d found out that she was part of ateam.
There was no getting around that. She was going to seriously mess-up someone’s misogynistic day—unless Jim Slade delivered on his suggestion to create a smaller group with only Ash, Clark, and Kenneth.
Ashley poured herself a glass of wine from an open bottle of a very nice California Pinot Noir. As she started to input her PIN into the iPad attached to the bar, Jim appeared and stopped her.
“Tonight, the first one’s on the house,” he said, slipping onto the bar stool next to her.
“To help ease the pain?” she asked as she took a sip. The room was filling up around them, and the anticipation and anxiety was palpable. Or maybe she was projecting.
Jim smiled. “It’s really not going to be that bad.”
Forhim, perhaps… “So how exactly do we do this team-picking thing?” Ashley asked. “Is there a hat, like inHarry Potter…? Or is it more like the humiliation of middle school gym class?”
“It’s definitely not that,” Jim said. “Although a talking hat would be pretty damn cool.”
She looked at him. “Books or movies?”
“Both were good, in Harry’s case,” he said, “but as a general rule, I prefer the written word.” He smiled again. “And see, that look…? The one you’re giving me—”
“I’m not giving you a look.”
“Yeah. You are. You’re good at hiding it, but it’s back there. It’s theHuh, I took you more for the reality-TV-watching type. In fact, I wasn’t sure you evenknewhow to readlook. It comes from having a face like a pugilist.”
She took another sip of wine. “Nice word.”
