Chapter 10 #2
My palms go clammy. What if I literally can’t think of a single interesting thing about me to share?
“Every minute or so,” Hildy continues, “those of you on one side are going to slide to the left until you’re in front of a new person across from you.
The people in the other line will just stay put.
If you’re the one at the front of the moving line, you’ll simply shift down to the opposite end when it’s time. ”
“I can see some of you looking confused,” Bob notes, “but don’t worry.
The process will be obvious once we’ve started.
Hildy and I will prompt you to move on every minute or so, and you should be able to meet all your fellow retreaters pretty quick.
This is gonna be rapid-fire, not a deep dive into anybody. ” He grins at us. “Yet,” he adds.
I raise my hand. “Will there be a test of everyone’s details at the end of the retreat?”
Good old Bob just keeps on smiling, so he must not have heard my question. Or maybe he didn’t answer me on purpose. Maybe this is all a part of the test.
The man across from me waves and winks. “This is kinda like speed dating, huh?” His name tag says he’s Chad.
“I wouldn’t know,” I say. “I don’t da—”
“Ready?” Bob hollers.
“Yes!” Tori hoots.
Hildy blows her whistle. “GO!”
Here’s what I learn over the next twenty minutes: Chad is an EMT from Asheville who dreams of someday climbing Mt. Everest. Douglas, a single dad from Charlotte, has been divorced three times, but he still believes in soulmates. He also believes in UFOs.
Noted, Doug.
Caroline, Tori’s roommate with the friendly smile, was just promoted to the head of HR for her company. She once got kissed on the cheek by Justin Bieber at an event for the presidents of his fan clubs.
After her comes Andrew, who's young(ish), then Pete, who’s solidly middle-aged. They’re new hires at a pharmaceutical company, and they both do that thing where they high-five and fist-bump everyone. Andrew has an extra toe, and Pete once went naked skydiving.
Interesting. I guess.
Next up is Gretchen, a soft-spoken woman, who moved to North Carolina last year. She’s here with three other nurses from St. Augustine’s: Nadia, Juniper, and Mickey. Their interesting facts are their favorite bands: Coldplay, Radiohead, Linkin Park, and another Coldplay.
“Switch!” Bob announces. A man with a wave of sandy-blond hair and a toothpaste-commercial smile moves into the space across from me.
“I’m Hogan,” he says. "Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Sayla,” I chirp, trying my best not to be boring. “Not Sailor.” I point to my name corrected in Sharpie and force an awkward laugh.
“Love your name,” he says.
“Me too,” I blurt, even though I kind of don’t. “I’m a teacher from Harvest Hollow, and I’m allergic to mangoes.”
“I’m from Mills River,” he says. Then he grins at me. “And I’m a mango distributor.”
“Wait.” I blink at him. “Seriously?”
“No.” He shrugs. “I am Hogan from Mills River, but my job has nothing to do with mangoes. I just like making stupid jokes.”
I bust out laughing at this. The fact that I sometimes miss the punchline is another not-so-interesting fact about me. “So what’s your real interesting fact, then?” I ask.
“I think I’ll just stick with the stupid joke thing if that’s okay with you.”
“Ha! Yes. Sure.” Another laugh slips out of me even as I feel a prickle along my neck. It’s the kind of instinctive hair-raising that happens when you feel like someone’s watching you. So I wipe my damp hands down my cargo pants and peek down the row.
Dexter is staring at me. Talking to Hogan.
This definitely makes me feel weird. Especially because he’s not even looking at Gretchen, the nurse who’s in front of him. And she was so nice.
Bob shouts, “Switch!” and the opposite row shifts to the left again.
That’s when Victoria/Tori steps up to me.
“Sayla. Finally,” she gushes. “I already overheard you tell someone you’re from Harvest Hollow, and I just have to tell you I’m obsessed with HadLink.” Her eyes go wide. “You know. Lincoln James and Hadley Morgan? They’re from your town, right?”
“They are.” I nod, grateful Tori’s handing me such an easy topic of conversation. Nothing too personal. Just a bit of celebrity info I can share without violating anyone’s trust or privacy. “Hadley teaches at the other high school in the Mountain Valley District,” I say. “Harvest High.”
Tori lets out a little squeal of excitement. “Don’t you think Dexter looks like him?”
“Looks like who?”
“Link!” She beams at me. “You’re so lucky you get to work with him. And share a cabin with him.” She giggles. “I mean Dexter, not Lincoln James.”
We both turn and glance down the row at the same time. At least Dexter isn’t staring at me anymore. He’s talking to Nadia now. She likes Radiohead. See? I pay attention. I really do hope there’s a test.
“He’s just so insanely hot,” Tori says a little breathlessly, and I snap my focus back to her. I don’t want to talk about Dexter being hot with Tori. Or about Dexter being hot with anyone.
“Honestly, I haven’t given his attractiveness any thought,” I lie.
“Well, I have,” Tori admits, digging her perfect teeth into her pink lip-glossed mouth. “So based on the fact that you didn’t want to room with him, I assume you two aren’t a couple.”
“Us? Me and Dex? Together?” I crinkle my nose. “Oh, no. For sure not.”
“His nickname is Dex? I loooove that.” She lets out a long groan. “Please tell me he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
I huff out an amused breath. “He sure doesn’t.” The fact that he just told me back in the cabin that he’s not interested in dating anyone right now shouldn’t feel like a relief to me, but for some reason does.
“Yesss!” Tori’s face breaks into a wide smile. “Because I’d never tinkle on another woman’s territory, but—”
“Well, he’s single.” I cut her off before she goes any deeper into her tinkle metaphor.
“EEK!” She claps her hands. “If you don’t mind, then, I’m probably going to—”
“Switch!” Bob calls out.
Going to what?
Tori hops to the left, landing in front of the man next to me. “Wait,” I yelp at her. “We didn’t share our interesting things!”
“I can tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue,” she says.
Because of course she can.
“I’m allergic to mangoes,” I try telling her, in case she needs the information later, but she’s already busy talking to Joseph from Cleveland.
He learned to drive when he was five.
Another fact I memorized.
At this point, I’ve met more than a dozen strangers whose details I’m keeping filed in my brain.
I can’t wait to get back to my clipboard and make a list as soon as we’re done.
Meanwhile, Bob and Hildy maneuver our lines around so we get to talk to everyone, including the people in our own rows.
And the closer Dexter gets to me, the faster my blood races through my veins.
Should I give him a heads-up that Tori’s interested in him?
If I do, he might spend the next couple of days distracted by her and her cherry-stem-twisting tongue and forget all about the fact that Bob and Hildy are giving Mr. Wilford feedback on us at the end of the retreat.
This could be my chance to prove I’m the employee with better focus. A more cooperative, collaborative coworker. So why does the idea of Tori and Dex together make me queasy? I guess I just don’t want her to get hurt.
Yes. I’m sure that’s it.
And anyway, I don’t have time to consider a different reason because Dex moves into the space across from me, and every other thought in my head goes foggy.
“Hello, there.” He reaches out as if to shake my hand. “I’m Dexter Michaels.”
Wow. He does look like Lincoln James.
“Ummm, hi?” I scrunch up my nose, holding back my hand. “We already know each other.”
“Yes, but we’re supposed to introduce ourselves. Don’t you want to follow the rules?”
My weak spot.
“Fine.”
He smiles. “Nice to meet you, Sayla Candice Kroft.”
I startle. “How did you—Oh.” Heat blossoms in my cheeks as I recall the awkward moment in Mr. Wilford’s office after he said his middle name is opportunity, and I blurted out my real middle name.
But he remembered that? Strange.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I manage, accepting his handshake. When his large palm engulfs my smaller one, little zaps of electricity pulse along my fingertips up past my elbows, all the way to my shoulders.
Like I’m being lit on fire.
I’ve felt the brush of his hand multiple times in the past week.
Once, when we both accidentally grabbed one of my clipboards in the weight room.
And again at the grocery store over the tampon boxes.
In both those moments, I chalked the friction up to static from the weight room mats and my fuzzy slippers.
But we’re out in the woods now. Wearing hiking boots.
There’s no friction here. Just dirt. So my body shouldn’t be reacting like this.
I wish it weren’t.
I need to stay focused. Follow the rules. Tell him my interesting fact that’s probably not so interesting.
“I’m allergic to mangoes,” I choke out.
He takes this in, nods. “All right. Good to know,” he says. “I don’t have any allergies. But I was born without an appendix.”
My eyes narrow. “Seriously?”
“It’s rare, but yeah. I mean, no. No appendix for me. No tonsils either. I had those yanked when I was five.”
An image of little Dexter in the hospital flashes through my brain, and the picture is, regrettably, sweet. He’s not some enemy trying to steal my department’s funding. He’s just a tiny kid with a head full of dark hair in a big bed hooked up to machines, waiting for his operation.
I shouldn’t want to know more about this side of Dexter. Connecting with him comes with risks. So I absolutely cannot let myself ask for more details. Still.
“Were you scared?” I ask.
Oh, come on, Sayla.
“Yeah, at first, for sure.” He ducks his head. “But then the nurses gave me a bear.”
Maybe you’ll have better luck keeping your distance from Dexter during lunch.
“Like a … teddy bear?”
“Yup. I still have him.”
Against my will, a small smile plays across my lips. “The teddy? No way.”
He nods. “Way.”
“TIME!” Hildy calls out.
And Dex moves to the left.