His Royal Highness(34)

At the end of the shift, he leaves without a word, and I resist the urge to run after him, pound my fists against his back, and beg him to stop.

The entire week drags on like this.





Saturday night, Ryan invites me to play mini golf.

Whitney: Seriously?





Ryan: Oh…my bad. Was I supposed to invite you to do something cooler? Not too late to hit up a rave or something.





Whitney: A RAVE?! Stop while you’re ahead.





Ryan: So…yes?





It’s such an innocent request, and I’ve had such a strained week, so I happily accept. Since most of the staff don’t keep cars on site, Ryan shows up at my dorm with two bikes in tow. One is his. The other he borrowed from a friend.

He holds up a chunky black helmet, and I take it with a laugh.

“The mini golf course isn’t far, but it’d take forever to walk there. You up for it?”

I plop the helmet on my head in reply. He smiles and steps forward, helping me adjust the straps so they fit snugly under my chin.

“Sorry. My friend has a big head.”

I laugh and he bends closer, fiddling with the buckle. It finally clicks into place. His eyes meet mine and his smile fades. I think he wants to kiss me. He’s going to kiss me, but then I knock my closed fist on the helmet and declare it a perfect fit.

“Ready to go?”

Since it’s a Saturday night, the mini golf course is extremely crowded. It doesn’t help that we’ve found ourselves smack-dab behind a large birthday party. The first three holes take thirty minutes. Time moves in reverse. Danny (I know his name because everyone is wearing matching DANNY IS 8! shirts) seems nice enough and I hate talking trash about him, but the kid can’t golf. On the fourth hole, his ball pings off the miniature windmill, collides with a tree, and then manages to hit Ryan directly in the face.

Kids scream when his nose starts gushing blood. I rush to get ice from the main office. After that, we sit on the curb out front while Ryan tips his head back, waiting for the bleeding to stop.

“Want me to go back and beat Danny up for you?” I tease.

He laughs and then groans.

“You don’t think it’s broken, do you?” I ask, eyes wide.

“No. My nose bleeds really easily. I have a weak constitution.”

I laugh, because it’s categorically not true. He’s tall, athletic.

“It’ll stop in a second,” he assures me.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, he moves the ice pack off his face and there’s no more blood, just a little bit of swelling and a faint red bump.

He glances over and I smile.

“It’s really not so bad. You were always missing the left half, right?”

He leans over and playfully jostles my shoulder with his. I smile down at my feet.

“I can’t believe we worked together for so long before I worked up the courage to ask you out.”

One of my eyes narrows as I think it over. “Didn’t I technically ask you out first? Last week?”

“That doesn’t count. We were never alone. This is definitely our first date.”

“Wow. Date, huh?” I emphasize the word with an exaggerated smirk.

“I knew I should have taken you to the rave.”

I chuckle.

His tone is more serious when he continues, “I’ve been wanting to take you out for a while, but you know…you’re kind of intimidating.”

A laugh bursts out of me. Surely he’s joking.

He’s not.

“I mean, you’re you,” he says, gesturing to me as if I’m supposed to understand what that means. His declaration makes me slightly uncomfortable, so I pivot, trying to keep the mood light.

“Is this because I beat you handily in the first three holes? Because I warned you, for someone who played absolutely no sports growing up, I have scary-good hand-eye coordination.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “C’mon, be serious.”

No. That’s the last thing I want to be right now. I’ve been nothing but serious all week.

“How do you like your new position in the park? You’re a huntsman in the forest now, right?” I ask. “Must be nice. I hear you can show up early and volunteer to test some of the roller coasters.”

He looks away, disappointed. “It’s cool. Yeah. I mean, I didn’t want to leave my post, but I wasn’t really given an option.”

“You can come back, you know. Derek’s only going to be working there for a little while. They’ll need someone again when he leaves.”

He nods, peering at me out of the corner of his eye. “What’s it like working with him anyway?”

It feels wrong discussing Derek with Ryan. So I don’t.

I point to the snow cone stand across the street and promise to be right back.

In a few minutes, I return with two heaping piles of sugary shaved ice. Syrup drips down the side of the Styrofoam cup and I urge Ryan to eat it fast. “Hurry! It’s dripping!”

“I can’t! My nose!” he protests.

We laugh as my hands turn into a sticky mess. In the end, I have to scoop bites for him and pass them over so he can wedge the spoon underneath his ice pack. It’s a disaster. All of it. But, we’re having fun, and even though I’m fighting back yawns, I know it’s not because he’s boring. He’s not. This has been the most eventful date I’ve ever been on, by far, but I haven’t been sleeping well the last few weeks and eventually my fatigue wins out.