“Nah. Shoulder’s still niggling.” I reached over and snagged his chips. “You have snacks.” I took a handful.
He grabbed the bag back, glaring at me. “Yeah,Ihave snacks, don’t think I don’t know you’ve been eating my stash.”
“Dust, I would never.”
“Two protein bars, three peanut butter cups, and a bag of M&M’s.”
I screwed my nose up in disgust. “You know I don’t like peanut butter. I didn’t touch your candy.”
His eyes narrowed as he considered me. “You still ate my protein bars.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I took your protein bars.”
“You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass for stealing,” he grumbled, returning to his game.
“I mean, you could try?”
“Asshole.” He hid his grin behind a fistful of chips as he stuffed his face. “Your dry cleaning’s back,” he told me as he chewed. “You and the team have that thing with the donors on Saturday.”
Right, I’d almost forgotten. “The ‘thing’ you’re not attending, that thing?”
“Hey, I got commitments.”
“You got shit is what you mean to say.” I looked over at Noah’s room. “He’s going, though, right?”
Dustin looked far too smug. “Yup. His dry cleaning came too.”
“You’re an ass for ditching this.” I leaned over and snatched his chips. “This is ateamevent.”
“It’s a pencil pusher event, and we both know that you’re the only one they’re interested in seeing anyway.”
“Not true.” I tossed his chips back to him. “Where’s Noah now?” I asked, lowering my voice.
“Defense got pulled behind. Coach Holt wanted them to do an extra lap for—” Dustin shrugged — “who knows. Holt forgets it’s offseason.” He ate more chips. “Told him we’d wait for him for dinner if he wanted.”
“Cool.” I dropped into the chair opposite him. “You ever notice stuff around here... not always making it into the official reports?”
That got me a glance. “What kind of reports? The Defensive Coordinator holding his line back to run an extra route isn’t a crime.”
I flipped him off. “Dick, I meant like injury reports?”
He paused his game. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged like it was nothing. “Could be anything. Just... stuff you’d expect to be on paper, but it’s not.”
He gave me a long, slow look, then went back to his game. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, man.”
“I’m not.” I pushed up out of the chair. “Just wondering.” I headed to my room. “Forget I said anything. I’m going to call my sister, see how she is.”
“Tell her I said hi,” he called after me.
I left him to his chips and kill count, but I caught the slight frown he wore as I walked away. He’d heard me — maybe not everything I was asking, but enough to know I wasn’t just shooting the breeze.
“Hey,” Dustin called, and I turned back. He’d sat up a little, the chips sliding to the floor unnoticed. “Your vibe is weird. You want me to ask around?”
“Nah,” I said, pushing my bedroom door open. “Not yet.”
But the truth was, yeah — I did. I would. Just not where anyone else could hear.
