“Will do.”
“Where are you headed?” I ask. I need to put Joel out of my mind and remember why I’m here: to support my students.
“I’ve set up an interview with Bruce.” Justin grins. “I want to know how an old hippie ends up driving a state of the art mini-bus.”
Justin is naturally curious. He’s got good instincts, much like Dana. “I like that angle, but be careful going into the interview with assumptions about people.”
“Okay,” he says. “How do I do that?”
“How do you think?” I tilt my head, waiting to see if he will answer his own question. I like my students to come to their own conclusions.
“I guess keeping the questions open ended?”
“That’s one way to do it. Listen. That’s the most important thing you can do. Listen to what he’s not saying as well as what he is.”
Justin nods thoughtfully.
“Have you got some questions ready?” I ask.
“Nah, I thought I’d wing it.”
Which sounds like Justin. “It’s good to have some questions as a starting point. Then you can go off script as the interview progresses.”
“Can you come and watch?” Justin asks shyly.
Justin puts on a confident persona, but underneath he’s still a boy trying to figure things out. “Of course.”
“Thanks.” He gives me a broad grin before heading to the maintenance sheds.
It’s later in the afternoon; the equipment is packed away, dinner has been eaten, and I’ve posted the new cabin allocations. It’s been a good afternoon for the students. Justin’s interview wentgreat, and I checked in on some of the other groups. I’m pleased that the camping trip is going well, so far.
I linger in the hall until the last student files out with their belongings. Only then do I sling my backpack over my shoulder.
“Let me take that.”
Joel is by my side with his hand already on the strap of my bag. His fingers graze my shoulder as he lifts it off. There’s that tingle again. Every time I touch him, a current leaps between us. I wonder if he feels it too, but I don’t trust myself to make eye contact right now. He might see how much he affects me.
“Thank you,” I say demurely, keeping my head down.
He shoulders my pack easily and picks up his duffel bag in his other hand. His bag is half the size of mine and army issue.
“We’re in Rabbit sector,” he says, indicating for me to go first out the door.
“Why do you think it’s called Rabbit? All the others are fierce animals, Bear, Bobcat, Wolf. Why do we get Rabbit?”
He chuckles. “I would have put you more as a bobcat myself.”
I turn toward him, surprised. “A bobcat, why?”
He regards me with a half-smile on his face. “There’s something feline about you, the way you move, and I bet you’ve got sharp claws when you need them.”
I smile, unable to hide how happy I am with his assessment.
“And you like to sleep during the day,” he adds.
I duck my head in embarrassment, remembering the way I woke up on his shoulder.
“I can’t decide if you’re a Wolf or a Bear.”
