English. And heâs cute, so the fear wonât come, hard as I try to summon some.
âArizona,â he answers. âSome woman told me to come out here and sleep.â He holds up a note next to the lantern. âItâs not exactly the Latino welcome I imagined.â
âThatâs exactly what I said! But Libby isnât Latino.â
âLibby?â
âShe runs the mission.â
âRight. She must think Iâm a girl,â he said.
âI think youâre right from what she told me.â
âWell, Iâve been on a few summer mission trips, and they never let the guys sleep in the same quarters as the girls.â
âYou can sleep over there.â I point to the opposite side of the room. âI wonât touch you, I promise.â Even if daily rejection is my middle name.
He laughs and lifts his pack from outside the door. âSo you havenât done this before, I take it?â
âIs it obvious?â
âYou just have no expectations. Thatâs how youâre supposed to come on a mission, but it never works like that. Itâs always worse and better than you imagine.â
âWhat does that mean?â
âThe place is always worse. The people you help, always better than you imagine.â
âAh.â
He pulls out a bag from his pack and my mouth waters at the mere thought of food. I lick my lips. âYou hungry?â
I canât even be demure at this point. âIâm starvingâfamished, really. Do you have enough?â
âPlenty.â
âThereâs a table over in that corner.â I climb out of my sleeping bag, grateful Iâm wearing yoga-like pants and a long T-shirt, but wishing my hair wasnât flying every which way. Iâm not even thinking romance either, just self-respect. J.C. is what Iâd 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. âI hope you donât mind my fingers. My mom sent me with a crapload of hand sanitizer, so theyâre clean. She was frantic I was going to come home with the plague.â
âShe sounds a lot like my parents, only they came with me. Theyâre staying in town at a hotel.â
âYouâre kidding me. I thought no one could outparent my mother, but theyâre here? Really?â
âMy mom went to college with Libby. I guess that was their excuse, but Iâm still seventeen, so that was their other excuse. Though Iâm sure if I were eighteen, they would have found another one.â
âWe definitely have to get our parents together at orientation.â
âAre you kidding? Do you want them sharing notes?â
J.C. laughs. âGood point.â
I grab my half of the sandwich and shove it into my mouth. I mumble over the food, âSorry, Iâm eating like a cavewoman.â
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.
âItâs refreshing. Iâve had too many dates where the girl wonât eat. Nice to see one with a healthy appetite.â
âSo youâre going to Pepperdine too?â I grab his soda. âDo you mind?â
âBe my guest.â
I slurp from the bottle and hand it back to him.
âThey didnât feed you when you got here?â he asks.
âLong story. I was supposed to go out with my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend? Friend? Iâm 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
âIs she that bad?â
âNo. Yes. I donât really know. I just felt self-conscious and didnât want to ask her for anything.â
âThat doesnât sound good.â
âMax