Out of Character by Annabeth Albert
Chapter Eight
Milo
“So, on a scale of terrifying to terrible, how bad was that?” Jasper’s smug grin as we packed up our stuff said that he already knew my answer.
“I had fun.” I wasn’t lying. Once I’d gotten over the more…breezy aspects of the costume, I’d relaxed considerably even though it was still weirdly uncomfortable being in a hospital for no medical or personal reason. Seeing how the kids reacted to us had further unknotted my shoulders. They were so happy to see Jasper and his squad, and they acted like Neptune was a pop star, not merely an illustration on some cardboard. After a while, I’d become more into the whole thing, smiling for some pictures and playing a second round with Chase and another kid.
“Not too weirded out by the medical stuff?” Pausing from putting away the card decks, Jasper gave me a considering look.
“Nah.” Actually, I had been at first, especially because of my own past. But I wanted to impress Jasper for reasons that were probably best not deeply considered. However, the longer he looked at me, the more truth slipped past my bravado. “Okay, it maybe took a little getting used to. I just…feel bad for them. I dunno.”
“It’s called compassion, Milo. Might be unfamiliar to you.” Jasper laughed like he was making some big joke, but I didn’t join in. Jasper didn’t know shit about what I’d been through the past few years.
All of a sudden, I’d had enough of this stupid costume. I pulled off the crown and shoved it in the costume bag. “That’s not fair.”
Jasper simply gave me another long look. And okay, I got where his sarcasm was coming from. I didn’t like it, but I got it. I’d been an asshole to him in high school, hadn’t stuck by him, hadn’t stood up for him when I knew good and well that I should have. It was easier to see what a jerk I’d been, especially now that I was trying to shake free of that world.
“I tried to apologize the other night. And I probably suck at apologies, but can we maybe not relitigate my past sins every five minutes?” Maybe text message wasn’t the best medium for a grand apology. I didn’t know because I hadn’t tried to make that many before. But somehow Jasper made me want to try to be something more. “I’m not that person anymore.”
Jasper gave a heavy sigh as he resumed putting the last of the decks away and zipping up the bags. “That remains to be seen. However, you did do a good job of making Chase smile.”
“I tried.”
“I believe you.” Jasper’s tone was less biting now.
And maybe he didn’t believe my apology, but at least he believed that I’d been sincere with the kids, and that mattered. Some of the tightness in my chest loosened. “Thanks.”
His smile also took on a warmer cast. “And now I can make good on my promise to help you.”
“Here?” There were still some families in the lounge area, although Jasper’s other friends had already headed out. His mom had come for his sister, and she’d had a hard stare of her own for me, which I supposed was understandable, all things considered. God only knew what she’d heard via the mom gossip network on top of the shit I’d actually done.
“No, not here. They have a movie night coming in next. Let’s go to the cafeteria. The Wi-Fi is pretty strong there.”
“Dressed like this?” I looked down at my toga. The administration people who had stopped by had been pretty chill, but I wasn’t exactly dressed for the coffee bar. The idea of more speculative looks made my back sweat.
Jasper shrugged because of course he had no such issues. “I don’t mind. I like making people smile.”
“You’re good at that.”
“Why, thank you.” Fully in character for a second, Jasper gave me a courtly bow and a wink. Then he straightened, regular Jasper again. “And if you want to change, we can do that.”
“Yeah, I’m a little chilly.” More like I was still slightly embarrassed, but I didn’t want a lecture.
“Okay, okay. Back to civvies.” Jasper led the way to the public restroom near the elevators.
“Ha. You sound like Bruno.” I laughed, but inside, I tensed up at the reminder of why I was even here. Bruno had the military-speak down, along with that take-charge attitude. He was the better person for sure, and knowing how badly I’d let him down weighed on me, made my movements slower as I changed clothes.
Jasper was done first and was waiting on me when I emerged from the stall. He was back to a hooded sweatshirt and faded jeans, average college-student wear, but I could still see traces of the Frog Wizard in him. The regal posture. The knowing smile. The light, confident movements as he headed to the cafeteria. He always had a bounce to his step, that extra bit of energy that others lacked.
The cafeteria had a number of food stations including a coffee bar. And damn, I was tired. And thirsty.
“Do you want a drink?” I asked as Jasper pulled a sleek laptop out of his backpack. “I can get us something while you get booted up.”
“Thanks. Yes, actually. Soda. M—”
“Mountain Dew. I remember.” He’d always had such a sweet tooth and a thing for the junk food his mom seldom stocked.
He met my gaze, and years of history passed between us. Sodas and sleepovers and secrets. “Appreciate it.”
I retrieved a bottle of soda for him because he always liked bottles more than fountain drinks and an espresso for myself. Taking the seat next to Jasper, I moved the chair so I could see the screen too. This put me close enough to smell him again, and our sleeves brushed. My body took way too much of an interest in his nearness, but I also couldn’t move away without looking like a dick.
“You drink coffee?” Jasper raised an eyebrow as I slid him his soda.
“I got into bullet-proof coffee at college because some of the guys I trained with swore by it. And I had an early-morning PT appointment on the other side of town. I need some caffeine, but unlike you, I can’t handle all that sugar anymore.”
“If I didn’t run on junk food, I’d starve.” Jasper was already clicking around his laptop, opening browser tabs with impressive speed.
“Like your mom would let that happen.” His mom wasn’t a health nut, but with five kids, she did a lot more home-cooked meals than mine, especially when they were all younger.
“Truth.” Laughing, Jasper took a swig of his soda, then gestured at his machine. “Okay. Let’s start our hunt. I’ve bookmarked some of the most likely places. A simple search engine isn’t going to turn up much.”
“I know. I tried,” I groaned. I had looked. Saturday night after the whole mess with George, I’d tried to see what I could find before I’d had the courage to ask Jasper for help. “And I suck at searching. Like, there’s 2,000 results, and after five or so, they all start bleeding together in my brain.”
Jasper nodded because this was hardly news to him. I’d talked him into doing most of the heavy lifting with group projects in middle school. His mouth pursed as his expression turned more thoughtful.
“How did you cope with papers at college? I heard you got a soccer scholarship somewhere out of state.”
“It wasn’t easy,” I admitted. And with anyone else, I wouldn’t share this much, but Jasper already knew me on a deeper level than some of the kids I’d shared a dorm with. “I practically lived at the writing center and still struggled. This one tutor there suggested that maybe I have some sort of learning disability. Like my processor doesn’t run at the same speed as others.”
“I can see that.” Jasper didn’t sound at all judgmental as he clicked away on his laptop. “There’s help for all sorts of learning differences these days. But you’re not at college now?”
“No.” I sat back in my chair.
“Oh. Right. Your leg. Was it—”
“Can we talk about the cards now?”
“Got it. No more questions.”
Predictably, as soon as his tone went cool, I missed his prying. God, I was a mess. “Sorry. That was rude of me.”
“Nah. It’s okay. I was being nosy.” Jasper shrugged, but only some of his easiness returned. “Anyway, here’s what I’m finding. Some partial sets for, like, $5K.”
He tapped his screen, which had a bunch of pictures of cards with price tags with way too many zeroes.
“F—”
“Yeah, I know. It’s a lot.”
“There’s no cheaper way to score these cards?” Squinting, I leaned forward, like that might help the screen show something different.
“Like armed robbery?” Jasper laughed, then sobered as he clicked over to another browser tab. “Occasionally, you’ll see one or two offered on a prize wall at a tournament. Like here’s one this weekend in Philly. It’s a decent competition. I won a bunch of transforming cards there last year.”
“Hold up. You’re good enough at the game to win prizes?” Turning in my chair, I studied him, almost like I was seeing him for the first time. He’d had a whole life in the years since we’d been friends. And he wasn’t simply this computer wizard good at searches. He was…competent. Successful. A stranger.
“Why, yes, Milo. I’ve only been playing since I was sixteen. I’m on a popular vlog about the game. I’ve played at various regional tournaments. I’m not a pro, but I am good.” His expression was closer to the Frog Wizard than the Jasper I knew. This guy was cocky. Radiating confidence.
“Better than George?” I tried like heck not to let on how freaking impressed I was.
“George cheats.” Jasper made a pained face. “But yes, assuming he’s not loading his deck with bombs, I’m the better player.”
“Good on you.” A stray thought wandered into my brain and wouldn’t let go. “So you could maybe win that card?”
Jasper blinked. “You want me to enter that tournament, go to Philly on Saturday, and fetch you one of the missing cards? Is that all?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“It’s a ton of work. It’s not like some casual games with friends.”
“I know.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I inhaled sharply. I should have known better than to share my big brainstorm. It wasn’t like I could do it—playing with George had proved to me how very little I knew.
“But…maybe we could make a deal.” Jasper voice had an edge to it I couldn’t quite place. A slyness almost. Not like George-level sliminess but a little more calculating than I was used to from him.
“What sort of deal?” My head tilted as I considered him.
“You can stop looking like I’m about to ask for…personal favors.”
I made an audible gulping noise. My brain hadn’t gone there at first, but now he’d said it, vivid images danced in my mind, each more enticing than the last.
“Yeah. I know. The horror.” He rolled his eyes as he laughed.
He couldn’t be more wrong, but words failed me. And even if I’d managed to speak, volunteering for those kinds of favors probably wouldn’t go well. He’d assume I was pranking him, and that would be the end of his help.
“Anyway…” He made a dismissive gesture right as the people at the table nearest to us stood. They glanced our way, and God, I hoped they hadn’t heard his joke.
“Yeah?” I whispered, hoping he’d take the hint to lower his own voice.
“The hospital is doing a costume ball in a few weeks. I need you to be Neptune for that. And maybe a few other visits too.”
“A costume ball? Like a bunch of rich old dudes in wigs and masks?” This wasn’t the worst thing he could ask for, but it also wasn’t the best.
“Probably.” Jasper didn’t sound too put out by the prospect. “And before you say no, I’m sure there will be other people in togas. Gods are always popular costume choices. Also, it would mean a ton to April.”
Oh, that was low, making it about the kids. Of course I didn’t want to let April or Chase or any of the other kids down.
“And you?” If he was going to go low, I was going to at least make him admit this wasn’t only April wanting me to go.
“Fine. I’d like to have Neptune there too. And apparently I want it enough to drive to Philly in my death trap of a car.” He finished with a groan.
“We can take mine if it’s not snowing.” My pulse sped up and sweat trickled down my back, but it was the least I could offer. If he were going to go try to win the card, I could give him a cheering section. Or whatever the heck observers did at these things. Maybe it was like golf clapping, but whatever, I’d figure it out.
“Deal. And if it is, I’ll see if I can trade with Katie. She has an SUV now that she’s all employed and stuff.”
“She graduated?” Jasper’s oldest sister had been in college last I’d heard. She’d always been nice. Super smart, like all the Quigley kids.
“Yup. She’s a nurse now, over at the regional medical center.” Pride laced Jasper’s words as he smiled. “Her specialty is outpatient surgery.”
“Wow. All I remember about her is her obsession with that one British band.” It was hard to imagine that the gangly teen Katie had been was now in charge of people’s lives.
“Well, like you said, people grow and change.”
“That they do.” I gave him a pointed look.
Expression more speculative as he narrowed his eyes, he turned toward me. “Tell me one thing different about you. And not the coffee-drinking thing. Something real.”
I knew one thing. One big, giant thing, but no way in hell was I blurting it out right then. Hi. I’d be down with whatever personal favors you wanted to request. Anything. Surprise. And yeah, the news flash that he wasn’t the only one into dudes wasn’t going to go over well. I might not have his genius brain, but I knew that much. So I tried to think of other things.
“Unlike you, the junk food–tarian, I eat vegetables now. And I’ve got a tattoo…” I could tell by his face that he wasn’t impressed by my answers in the slightest. And somehow, I hated disappointing him, wanted to prove something to both us. “Okay. Real talk. I got kicked off the soccer team. That’s how I lost my scholarship and ended up back here instead of being able to rehab and stay in school.”
I wasn’t going to tell him the whole story, not right then, and maybe not ever. But considering that soccer had been the original wedge between us, it felt…significant somehow, sharing my greatest defeat with him.
Jasper whistled low. “Wow.”
“You’re not going to celebrate that I can’t play anymore?”
“No. First of all, you got injured. I’m not going to cheer for anyone getting hurt. Second, I worked damn hard for my scholarships. I know how much losing them would suck. And no matter what you did, I can bet that getting kicked off wasn’t your intention. You lived for soccer.”
“I did.” I had to swallow hard. “And yeah, it sucked. And you’re right. It was my fault, but I didn’t think… Hell, I didn’t think, period.”
“That does seem to be a persistent problem with you.” Jasper sighed, but his tone wasn’t unkind.
“Yeah.”
“Hey.” Surprising the heck out of me, he patted my upper arm. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the team.”
“Thanks, man. That means a lot.” And it did. Him voluntarily touching me, that meant something, too, made something fluttery break loose in my stomach. “And I do appreciate your help. I know my dumb ass got me into this mess, but I’m grateful you’re bailing me out.”
“I haven’t bailed anything out yet.” Jasper’s laugh was warm and welcome.
“But you will,” I insisted. Our faces were much too close now, but hell if I was going to be the one to move first. “I’ve got a good feeling about this tournament.”
“Does your good feeling extend to the seventy-five-dollar entrance fee?”
“It could.” The money wasn’t nothing. My wallet felt every penny lately, but it also wasn’t five-freaking-K, so I’d happily take it. More peanut butter and soup, maybe, but I’d also get a chance at some cards.
“Okay. We’re on, then. You sure you want to spend yet another day slumming with the nerds?”
“Yeah. I am.” And I was. Gamers might be an improvement over another weekend of listening to James and Luther bicker. And if there was one particular geek I was really looking forward to spending the day with, well, I wasn’t going to tell Jasper that.
