I stare at Dustin without answering him. He cracks up even more. It’s so easy to entertain him, not that I’m remotely trying to be his source of comedic inspiration.
“Sorry,” I say, focusing on Cody. “Yes. That works.”
I don’t waste words. Why use twenty when four will get the job done?
My eyes remain trained on Cody despite Dustin’s continued antics across the table.
I need to wipe Hallie out of my mind. Maybe I did imagine her. It wouldn’t be the first time in nine years that her face seemed to appear in a crowd only to disappear when I took a second glance.
“Okay, okay,” Cody says. “Last item of business. We’re going to be welcoming a rookie. You know I’ve been combing applications and doing interviews. We’ve gone long enough without someone taking my spot.”
“Technically, the rookie will take my spot,” Dustin says. “Finally.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t still prank you,” Patrick says with a teasing smile.
“That’s exactly what it means,” Dustin says. “Pranking is for the rookie. We prank the new guy.”
“Mm hmm,” I agree, even though I know we’ll definitely still be pranking Dustin. He just asks for it at times.
“Well,” Cody says with the authoritative tone he’s cultivated since he stepped up into his role as our captain. “The new hire will be here in a few hours and I want them to be treated with respect.”
“We always treat rookies with respect,” Patrick says.
“Yeah. That’s exactly how I remember it too,” Dustin says with a smirk.
Cody ignores our comments. “We also need to make some adjustments before this rookie arrives.”
“What kinds of adjustments?” Patrick asks.
“They’ll need their own room.” Cody looks at each of us with a seriousness that sparks my curiosity.
Why does he keep saying they?
Are there actually two rookies?
“Do they have allergies?” I ask sincerely, trying to ferret out what would make a rookie need their own bunk.
In a station as small as ours, we don’t have the luxury of single rooms. Only the captain gets his own space.
“Maybe they snore like a chainsaw,” Dustin suggests.
“In which case, you’d have your own bunk,” I say, not cracking a smile even though I know I’m being funny.
“I don’t snore,” Dustin insists.
“Only when you’re exhausted,” Patrick assures him.
“What? I snore?” Dustin is mortified.
“Men!” Cody raises his voice. As soon as all our eyes are back on him, he resumes his instructions in a measured tone. “Our new rookie starts today. Let’s get hustling and rearrange the bunks.”
Our responses overlap in a jumble of “Yes, sir!” “Copy that!” and “Got it, Cap.”
“That’s everything,” Cody says. “Dustin, move your bunk into where I used to sleep. Patrick, you’ll bunk with me on the nights I work a twenty-four hour shift.”
“You’re giving up your solo?” Dustin asks.
“We’re making accommodations,” Cody says. “We have limited space.”
