Free Perfectly Ridiculous by Kristin Billerbeck

English. And he’s cute, so the fear won’t come, hard as I try to summon some.
    â€œArizona,” he answers. “Some woman told me to come out here and sleep.” He holds up a note next to the lantern. “It’s not exactly the Latino welcome I imagined.”
    â€œThat’s exactly what I said! But Libby isn’t Latino.”
    â€œLibby?”
    â€œShe runs the mission.”
    â€œRight. She must think I’m a girl,” he said.
    â€œI think you’re right from what she told me.”
    â€œWell, I’ve been on a few summer mission trips, and they never let the guys sleep in the same quarters as the girls.”
    â€œYou can sleep over there.” I point to the opposite side of the room. “I won’t touch you, I promise.” Even if daily rejection is my middle name.
    He laughs and lifts his pack from outside the door. “So you haven’t done this before, I take it?”
    â€œIs it obvious?”
    â€œYou just have no expectations. That’s how you’re supposed to come on a mission, but it never works like that. It’s always worse and better than you imagine.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?”
    â€œThe place is always worse. The people you help, always better than you imagine.”
    â€œAh.”
    He pulls out a bag from his pack and my mouth waters at the mere thought of food. I lick my lips. “You hungry?”
    I can’t even be demure at this point. “I’m starving—famished, really. Do you have enough?”
    â€œPlenty.”
    â€œThere’s a table over in that corner.” I climb out of my sleeping bag, grateful I’m wearing yoga-like pants and a long T-shirt, but wishing my hair wasn’t flying every which way. I’m not even thinking romance either, just self-respect. J.C. is what I’d consider out of my league.
    But as I step closer to J.C., my confidence wanes. Luckily hunger rules my vanity. We both sit at the table, and he smiles at me from over the lantern. He takes a sandwich out of the bag and rips it in half. “I hope you don’t mind my fingers. My mom sent me with a crapload of hand sanitizer, so they’re clean. She was frantic I was going to come home with the plague.”
    â€œShe sounds a lot like my parents, only they came with me. They’re staying in town at a hotel.”
    â€œYou’re kidding me. I thought no one could outparent my mother, but they’re here? Really?”
    â€œMy mom went to college with Libby. I guess that was their excuse, but I’m still seventeen, so that was their other excuse. Though I’m sure if I were eighteen, they would have found another one.”
    â€œWe definitely have to get our parents together at orientation.”
    â€œAre you kidding? Do you want them sharing notes?”
    J.C. laughs. “Good point.”
    I grab my half of the sandwich and shove it into my mouth. I mumble over the food, “Sorry, I’m eating like a cavewoman.”
    He grins and he has one dimple on his right side, which makes him even more out of my league. I appreciate this because it takes the pressure off.
    â€œIt’s refreshing. I’ve had too many dates where the girl won’t eat. Nice to see one with a healthy appetite.”
    â€œSo you’re going to Pepperdine too?” I grab his soda. “Do you mind?”
    â€œBe my guest.”
    I slurp from the bottle and hand it back to him.
    â€œThey didn’t feed you when you got here?” he asks.
    â€œLong story. I was supposed to go out with my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend? Friend? I’m not sure what exactly he is, but he had to go back home, and I thought I could make it through the night rather than ask Libby for food.”
    â€œIs she that bad?”
    â€œNo. Yes. I don’t really know. I just felt self-conscious and didn’t want to ask her for anything.”
    â€œThat doesn’t sound good.”
    â€œMax