2. Casey
two
Casey
O liver eyed me as we stalked across the Oregon State University campus towards our car, my brisk walk telling him all he needed to know.
Okay, fine. The shouting had probably also told him all he needed to know.
“I can’t believe you got us escorted from the summer job fair by campus police,” he said.
“They didn’t escort me out. They just suggested that this wasn’t the right place for me to be in my current state.”
“Right.”
“Well, why didn’t they escort that… that lumbersexual caveman out, too?” I asked as we unlocked the doors to the Prius we shared and climbed in. Oliver was in the driver’s seat, as usual, because driving wasn’t my top skill. Especially not when aggravated. Or sad. Or happy. Or when there were other cars around. So, almost never.
“Perhaps because you were the only one you could hear all over the gymnasium.” He adjusted all his mirrors and then backed out with a slow, steady caution that was very typical of my younger brother, but didn’t do much for my current flustered state. “Lumbersexual?”
“Yeah, like, you know. Beard, flannel shirt, Danner boots, the whole nine yards. I bet he owns one of those hats with the ear flaps.”
“He looked more like the gray slouchy beanie sort to me,” Oliver said.
“And he doesn’t even like music. Who doesn’t like music?”
“Is that what he said, though?”
“Shut up.”
“Why were you at the summer camp with the people kayaking and mountain biking on the banner?”
I frowned. “Which one is kayaking again?”
“The skinny little boats you paddle. Do you not know what a kayak is?”
“Err… now that you mention it…” I hedged.
“Holy shit, could you be a little more of a city boy? We’re from Portland, not Manhattan. There’s a mountain right over there.” He pointed at Mount Hood, which had popped out of the clouds, as if to prove his point. “Why didn’t you talk to one of the urban arts or music camps? Even a dance camp. Anything but the outdoorsy one.”
“Ah. Oh. Um.” I blushed, thinking of how handsome Sutton had been, how he had drawn me in with his charming smile. It had been the perfect daydream of a summer, at least until Matt had started talking.
“Oh my god. You were there for a hot guy!” Why did my brother have to be so psychic? “But not the lumbersexual?”
“That redneck? Fuck no. The other one.”
“Why not? The guy in flannel was hot as fuck.”
“He was not hot. Did you see that beard? And he had a man bun. Who even has those anymore?”
Oliver snorted, and I had to wonder if he thought man buns were sexy. I didn’t know what my brother found sexy because he never dated and never seemed to crush on anyone. I was pretty sure he was bi or omnisexual. He refused to talk about it with me, though when I’d asked if he was asexual, he’d looked at me like I was a moron.
Oliver looked at me like I was a moron quite often. But it wasn’t my fault my mouth sometimes got away from me. Not completely my fault.
“Well, did you impress anyone else before you got kicked out?” he asked.
“Again, they didn’t kick me out, they just suggested I calm down. You wouldn’t understand. You’re always calm.”
“I don’t need another rant about how you just feel things bigger than other people.”
I glared at him, and gave him the silent treatment for at least thirty seconds, just to prove I could. So what if I had to count in my head the entire time to keep from talking?
“Answer the question, Case. Did you figure out what you’re doing for the summer? We need to let our landlord know.”
“Well, I was in line to talk to a music camp, but they were… I don’t know, too snobby. Don’t look at me like that! I bet you didn’t talk to anyone, either.”
“While you were getting into a shouting match with a potential employer, I talked to four different environmental nonprofits, and left my resume with three of them.” My brother was a smug bastard, and I hated him almost as much as I loved him.
“Overachiever,"
As I continued to fume about Matt’s stubborn refusal to listen to me, Oliver remained silent until I ran out of steam and huffed a sigh, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I messed it up,” I said. “I don’t know why I get so worked up.”
My brother reached over and patted my shoulder. He must have known how upset I was, because he stopped at my favorite drive-through coffee stand and ordered my favorite caramel macchiato and my favorite chocolate croissant. He was silent as he handed me my treats and drove towards the apartment we shared.
I considered not accepting the food, just out of spite. Perhaps I would have succeeded in resisting if he had gotten my second favorite pastry, but one could only be so strong.
By the time he parallel parked (a bit too perfectly) in front of our fourplex, I was feeling a little better. More than anything, I was disappointed in myself for messing up the job fair. I flopped onto the couch with a sigh.
“So tell me about this plan you have to apply to jobs online,” I said.
Oliver chuckled and grabbed his tablet off the counter, swiping to a website, and then setting it in my lap. “The job fair has a virtual option. All the same companies.”
“But not Camp Eagle Ridge,” I muttered, swiping through the options and feeling a little better. There was a little kids’ music camp that looked fun and an arts camp in Portland. “They won’t realize I was the one who…” I cleared my throat. “You know.”
“Made a scene.”
“Expressed my opinions eloquently, if at a higher volume than necessary.”
Oliver smirked. “Maybe you could dye your hair another color before the interview.”
“Good point. The pink will wear off by then, and I have been eying this silvery indigo.” Re-energized, I started looking through the job requirements and crafting cover letters, barely noticing when Oliver wandered off into his room.
Four hours later, I was so deep into the resume process that I almost didn’t realize my phone was ringing. I frowned down at the unfamiliar area code that popped up on the screen, and my finger hovered over the ignore button, but then it occurred to me that maybe one of the jobs was already calling me back.
Sure, it seemed unlikely, but I’d applied to seven of them. Maybe someone was excited by what they saw? I decided to do the thing I never did and answer the phone.
“This is Casey,” I said, trying to sound breezy and professional.
“Hey, Casey?” The deep voice on the other line was sexy as sin. “This is Sutton Holm. We met a few hours ago.”
“Um, you’re not going to press charges or something—”
“Of course not.” I could hear the laughter in his voice as he cut me off. “We were wondering if you could come up to Eagle Ridge at some point in the next few weeks and have a look at the facility and give us some more of your… insight.”
I blinked. “Um. Insight? Is this like a weird murder plot?”
This time, his laughter came out, deep and rich, giving me shivers all over. I was crushing so hard. “Murder plot?”
“You know, you lure unsuspecting but handsome students into the backwoods of Washington, and they’re never seen or heard from again.”
“That would be… a very elaborate plot. And expensive,” Sutton said. “I feel like we could find a murder option that didn’t involve two days of driving and three nights in a hotel in Corvallis?”
“I mean, I don’t know, maybe you have unlimited wealth.”
He chuckled. “Or maybe you made some interesting points back at the job fair, and we’d like to offer you a part-time internship helping us design a music and arts curriculum.”
Wait. I could be helping the sexy Sutton design a music curriculum? Had I heard him right? That was a dream come true.
I zoned out, picturing us sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in Sutton’s office, talking in depth about how to help kids by teaching them to express themselves with art, then sharing a romantic kiss by the fire. I wasn’t sure why there would be a fire in his office, but those details could be worked out later.
Sutton cleared his throat. “Did I lose you?”
“Oh! No. Of course not! Okay!” I said, letting my impulsive nature make the decision for me. “But wait, how could I do a part-time internship when I’m in Corvallis and you’re in Washington?”
“We thought you could work from home and come up once or twice a month to meet with us, if possible. We’ll hash out all the details next weekend. If that works for you.”
“But why?” I asked. “Couldn’t you find someone else to do it who lives closer? Someone who’s an expert?”
“Dude, are you trying to talk them out of a job?” Oliver poked me in the ribs.
On the phone, Sutton said, “Might have to look into that. So, what do you say? Come up this weekend? We have a cozy cabin for you to stay in and everything. No strings.”
I bit my lip, thinking about it. A weekend cozied up with the sexy Sutton? “Would it be okay if I bring my brother? He’s a better driver.”
“Sure, yeah, the cabin has two twin beds,” Sutton said.
Okay, my vision of the weekend got less sexy when I pictured my brother there with me, in a twin bed. “I was thinking he could stay in a different room. He snores.”
“I do not!” Oliver protested. I wasn’t sure if Sutton could hear him, but Sutton laughed.
“The camp is empty right now, and we have plenty of accommodations. Whatever you need.”
“Okay. Let me think about it. But I’m very interested.”
We exchanged our details, and Sutton promised to email me some further information about what they would be looking for. And I hung up, a little smile on my face.
“Did you just volunteer me to drive to Washington so you could have a meeting with some hot guy?” Oliver asked.
“Maybe?” I hedged. “But you like the outdoors! Think about it, getting away from the city, to … do things outside! Um, like kayaking!”
“It’s the winter.”
“Is there no snow kayaking?” I asked.
Oliver just started laughing. But I knew I had him. There was no way he’d let me drive that far on my own. I might die! Or hit a deer!