Page 69 of Almost Ravaged

“Get gone, Arjun. I’m not your supervisor right now, and you know damn well that’s not my name.”

“Chill, mamacita.”

“Arjun,” she warns in a low hiss.

I bite back a laugh at their banter.

“I just want to make sure you aren’t putting Sawyer on the schedule for Thursday,” he says. “It’s Ledges night, baby.”

Cam hugs her clipboard to her chest, shooting him an unamused glare. “Of course I didn’t put her on the schedule. But you better double-check that Bryant didn’t rearrange the concessions schedule for you.”

Arjun’s eyes go wide. “Shit.” With that, he storms off toward the back office.

Chuckling, Cam sets her sights back on me. “I’m messing with him.”

“What’s Ledges night?” I ask. “Is it another bar?”

Eyes dancing, she bounces on her toes. “The Ledges is a lookout over the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. It’s sort of hidden, but the views are incredible. Every couple of months, we check out the department van and go together. You’re in, right?”

For the third time in less than ten minutes, emotion tugs low in my belly. After being on my own for the last several years, with only Atty and Ty as the mainstays in my life, it feels incredible to so easily find myself included in so many activities.

“I’d love to go.”

“Invite your brother and Tytus, too.” She flips her braids over one shoulder and circles back around the desk. “We’ll take the fifteen-passenger van,” she says as she heads for her office, “but I’ll need a head count by tomorrow so I can makesure we have enough seats.” As she hits the threshold, she turns back. “Oh, and don’t forget to take your twenty.”

An employee I haven’t met yet—Kate, I think—appears a few minutes later, so on the half-hour mark, I take my break and pop into the concession stand side to grab a water.

“Sawyer, you gotta try this.” Arjun grins over his shoulder, then focuses on the griddle again, flipping a massive…I don’t even know what. It’s a multicolored blob that smells terrible.

And the look on his face is one I recognize. It’s one my brother has worn many, many times. He’s up to something, and I’m about to be sucked in.

“Can’t.” I punch in my employee number and ring up the water. “I’m allergic to”—I grimace—“whatever that is.”

“It’s the Godzilla Grinder,” he hollers. “Three-quarters of a pound of chip-chopped hot dog and bologna. Fried, topped with grilled onions, two kinds of mustard, and three types of cheese.”

The urge to heave hits me, but I choke it back. Nope. Not going anywhere near that one.

“Thanks but no thanks.” I retreat from the concession stand and venture into the lobby. His concoction sounds more than a little disgusting.

Is this how Atty felt when I ordered the King Kong at Wild Willy’s?

My traitorous heart flutters at the memory, and the tether that keeps me connected to the boys, no matter how far apart we are, goes taut, tugging me toward the rink where they’re finishing up practice.

I was planning to go out to my car during this break to skim over the reading for class tomorrow since I’ve been drowning in marketing texts and periodicals and have had little time for my own studies.

But my feet carry me through the lobby, and before I know it, I’ve stepped into the rink.

The cooler temperature rejuvenates me, and the intense blend of sweat and chemical cleaner floods my senses. I inhale deeply, because this smell, with this chill? It feels like home.

Following the pull of that invisible tether, I look out over the rink and spot Tytus immediately.

I’m a good skater, but Ty’s movements are nothing short of elegant. He was made to be on the ice. He was madeto play this game.

Atty’s out there, too, hamming it up with teammates. He’s always been the most social of the three of us. If given the choice, Ty and I would prefer to exist in our own little world.

At least that’s how it used to be.

The reminder is like a weight on my shoulders. With a sigh, I step onto the empty bleachers on the visitors’ side. I select a row about a third of the way up and settle in.