8. "I won't bite."
Darren's POV on chapter 8 of As a White Knight on His Steed
That evening, after we'd gotten acquainted (well, mostly re-acquainted, since we already knew just about everyone) with all of the other staff members, Chris and I returned hand-in-hand to our bunkhouse.
"Guess what I brought?" I asked him.
"A guitar," said Chris, glancing at the case leaning against the wall.
"Well, yeah, but that's not what I was thinking of. Guess what I brought to read?"
"Harry Potter?"
"The complete series! Last time we were together, we'd just finished The Prisoner of Azkaban. Do you want to start with Goblet of Fire? Or should we go back to the beginning?"
"You mean, like, read to each other?"
"Of course! It's a tradition. You can't seriously expect me to read to myself, can you?"
"Of course not," Chris said, laughing. "What was I thinking? Let's start with The Goblet of Fire."
"Good call," I agreed. "Do you want the first shower?"
"No, you go ahead. I haven't even made my bed yet."
The shower was tiny, the water was barely lukewarm, and the pressure wasn't great, but I was too psyched to care. This was our bathroom. Mine and Chris's. In our bunkhouse. Our own private little spot in the middle of the woods, where we were going to get to spend the entire summer. Together. Hogwarts itself couldn't be more of a castle.
Speaking of Hogwarts, I couldn't wait to reestablish our nightly bedtime reading routine. While Chris was in the shower, I got out my copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and plopped down on the bottom bunk.
Chris emerged from the bathroom already dressed in his pajamas and sat down in his desk chair.
"Do you have a letter you need to write?" I asked.
"No," Chris said, still at his desk. "I'm ready for the story, if you are."
"Well, then, c'mere," I told him, patting my leg to remind him where his head was supposed to be resting.
Chris hesitated. What was going on?
"C'mon," I urged. "I won't bite."
When he just kept sitting there, looking strangely torn, I added, "But the Monster Book of Monsters might!"
And with that, I leapt up, snapping the book's covers open and closed toward him.
Chris popped up out of his chair, and I chased him around the room, making my most ferocious growling noises. Chris was letting out these adorable little squeals, and trying to dodge me, but there was literally nowhere to go in that tiny bunkhouse. He stumbled, and I took the opportunity to grab him and toss him down on the bed.
"There!" I crowed in triumph. "Now, are you going to lie there and listen to the story, or do I have to let this book bite your toes?"
Chris was laughing so hard, he could barely speak. "Okay, okay," he gasped. "Don't let it get me!"
"Fine. But let there be no more of this silly sitting-in-chairs nonsense."
We grinned at each other. And then Chris's head was in my lap, where it belonged, and I was running my fingers through his soft, still-damp hair, while we shivered deliciously over J K Rowling's description of what was happening in the Riddle house.
Reading one of my favorite books, with my very favorite person, I was a happy camper.
…
You know what else made me a happy camper? Ryan had us playing all of these great team-building games the whole next day. Watching Chris open up and connect with the rest of the staff just warmed my heart. Plus, they were wickedly fun!
But the absolute best moment came that evening at dinner. Guess where Chris happened to casually mention that he was headed in the fall? The University of Michigan! Where I'd just been accepted! We were going to the same school!
I may have gotten a little overexcited and accidentally shoved him off of the bench we were sitting on. Ooops. But I just couldn't contain myself. I mean, the universe had seriously outdone itself on this one. I'd been thrilled enough simply to be getting to spend the summer with Chris. And now the next four years had landed in my lap like the perfect Christmas puppy. Who wouldn't be flailing around, knocking their best friend to the floor? (Well, not me, obviously.)
I couldn't believe he hadn't told me sooner. And I was surprised to realize that I'd never mentioned it to him, either. Clearly, we had a lot of catching up to do. But that was no problem, 'cause now we had plenty of time to do it.
…
That first week, before the campers arrived, just flew by. Somehow, Chris and I had learned (or, at least, I hoped we'd learned) everything we needed to know in order to be bona fide riding instructors.
By Saturday, we felt like we deserved a break. So after breakfast, Chris and I packed a picnic lunch and took a busman's holiday – riding out on one of the trails we hadn't yet had a chance to explore.
Glancing over at Chris, I couldn't remember ever having felt so utterly content. He caught my gaze and raised one eyebrow in that questioning way he has, silently asking "Why are you smiling like a complete idiot?"
"I'm glad you're still my best friend," I told him.
His answering smile was just as big and idiotic as mine.
End Notes: Sorry I disappeared for a bit. I was too paranoid about accidentally seeing Glee spoilers to come online this past week. But now that the premier of season 6 has aired, I'm back. :D