Page 20 of Dire Straights

“What does he feed it, like bird seed and stuff?”

“Um, actually the last time I was out there with them, he was feeding it chunks of salmon.”

“Salmon? Isn’t that kind of expensive?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. I didn’t really know anything about groceries. “Che says the salmon is healthy for Eugene.”

Scoffing again, he heaved a sigh. “The damn bird is eating better than most of the students I know.”

We walked around a bit more once we were done eating, commenting on the various shops and attractions. I caught himstaring longingly at a stand with a bunch of interesting flavors of fudge, like pumpkin spice and salted caramel and birthday cake.

“You want to try some?” I asked, and he hesitated before shaking his head.

“Nah, I can’t.”

“It’s okay to have a little treat,” I said, frowning a little. “I’ll split some with you,” I offered. It had worked last time.

“No, I’ve already slacked off too much lately with my diet.”

“Well, maybe next time,” I said, feeling kind of terrible when he glanced back at the stall one last time before we moved on. That mindset was so foreign to me, I couldn’t relate at all.

When we came up to a game where you have to keep aiming your water gun at a little moving target to fill up your balloon the fastest, I paid $5 to play it.

“I’m really good at these games,” I told him, as I settled onto the little stool and waited for other people to pay to enter the game.

“Judging by your score in the dino game, I believe you,” Maddox said.

When I won, I requested the barracuda plushie in a little BBU sweatshirt. A lot of the prizes for the games had BBU branding on them, since we were so close to the university.

“It’s you,” I told Maddox, brandishing my not-so-hard-won prize. He grinned a bit, raising a dark brow.

“I think I look a little better than that,” he said. The barracuda had a big, toothy smile that looked slightly demented.

“Well, yeah,” I said, before realizing that I’d basically called him hot. Sort of. “I mean, no,” I quickly corrected. “You don’t.”

He gave me a dry look before rolling his eyes, but he was still smiling. “You really have a gift for making everything awkward.”

“Ah, yeah. I get that a lot. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said simply. There was something about the way he didn’t linger on it that I liked. He didn’t make me feel likeI was annoying, but he also wasn’t scrambling to convince me that Iwasn’tawkward. I was, and we both knew it. He just didn’t care.

When we found the sushi pizza truck, I absolutely had to try it. When they handed me a fat slice teeming with raw tuna drizzled with spicy mayo, Maddox looked at me apprehensively.

“Isn’t this some kind of insult to your culture?” He asked, and I laughed.

“Probably. I won’t be telling my grandparents about it, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe you can keep eating, after everything you’ve already had,” he said, with a bit of awe in his voice.

“Iron stomach,” I said, as I polished off the last bite. “Okay, we should probably start heading back now.” The sun wasn’t quite setting yet, but it was getting there. I wanted to ride the ferris wheel, but I was pretty sure that was venturing way too deep into date territory for his comfort level. I’d wait to bring it up when things weren’t so weird and uncertain between us.

“Yeah, alright,” Maddox agreed. “But there’s one thing I want to do on the way back.”

It turned out to be another game, this time the one where you throw the basketball into the hoop as many times as you can within the time limit. It was completely effortless for him, he didn’t miss a single shot. I watched the attendant lady’s expression becoming more and more worried as the clock counted down. He’d racked up a lot of points and could pick pretty much any prize available. But when it finished counting down, he asked for something small.

“I thought it’s only fair if you’re represented, too,” Maddox said, as he showed me the prize he’d picked out. It was another BBU-themed plushie, this time a cute and squishy frog with a round pair of glasses covering its big eyes. The frog’s little shirthad the school’s logo on it. “This one is you,” he said, though it was obvious and didn’t need stating.

“They can be friends,” I said, holding my barracuda up so he could give a high-fin to Maddox’s frog. “Wait, do barracudas eat frogs?”

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