Page 14 of Ruin

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Thanks,” I say.

“No biggie.” He shrugs.

“How do you know about boxing?” I ask him.

“I’m a boxer.”

“Like, a real boxer?”

Kill me. Kill me now.

He smiles again. “Yeah, like, a real boxer. Well, I’m not pro. Amateur at the moment. I can’t go pro until I get my boxing license, and I can’t get that until I’m eighteen.”

“You’re not eighteen already?”

“Seventeen.”

“Wow. You look much older.”

He laughs. “I hear that a lot.”

“So, you’re a senior?”

“Junior. My birthday’s in September.”

“Ah. August baby here.”

“Junior, too?”

“Nope. Sophomore. I’m fifteen,” I add, like I need to highlight that fact to him.

Way to go, Cam. Turn him off with your age.

Not that he was turned on by me…but whatever.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. I feel a stab of disappointment in my chest, which is crazy because I’ve only just met the guy.

“So…we’re only one school year apart, but you’re nearly two years older than me. Well, a year and eleven months older, which is weird if you think about it.”

Jesus, Cam. Stop your rambling. Why don’t you also tell him that your legal guardian is with the New York City Police Department and finish off any hopes you might have had with him?

“You look older,” he says. “No offense.”

“None taken. I hear that a lot, too. I think it’s my height. Hopefully, not my face. I don’t want to have a prematurely aged face.”

He laughs. But I don’t feel like he’s laughing at me, like he thinks I’m a total goof. More like he thinks I’m funny, in a good way.

And that does something funny to my stomach.

“You don’t need to worry about your face,” he tells me and smiles that half-smile again.

Something swoops up and flutters into my chest.

I feel giddy and light.

Goddamn, he’s pretty.

“Where are your friends?” I ask, floating on a cloud of him.