Page 48 of Dating and Dragons

“For science?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’m happy to join the experiment, too, then; justtell me next time you’re going. It’ll give me another excuse to hang out with you.”

I turn to him. “Are you looking for excuses?”

“Always. I never want to avoid you, Quinn. But sometimes it feels like I need to, for both our sakes.”

The highway is perfectly flat, but my stomach flips like we just drove over a steep drop in the road. I don’t know how to respond, and I’m grateful that Sanjiv chooses this moment to yell a request for the next song.

“How are those campaigns coming along that you mentioned at the ice cream parlor?” I ask. “Are you still working on them?”

“Yeah. They’re okay.”

He’s clearly uneasy, but for some reason that makes him even cuter. “Will you tell me about them?”

“It’s just…” He looks out the van window and back to me. “My ideas aren’t very creative.”

“I doubt that. You’re probably being too hard on yourself.” I lean closer. “I promise I won’t judge.”

His eyes narrow, like he’s assuming I’m going to do exactly the opposite, but then he relents. “My parents and I watch a lot of movies together, and Dad especially loves thrillers. A few months ago, he put onThe Bourne Identityand it got me thinking that it could be really cool to run a game that has that kind of feel. You know, something where it feels less like the party has a clear quest and more like their mission is to escape before they’re killed.”

“A campaign that runs like a thriller sounds interesting. Although it feels like escaping is the goal with most of the encounters we run through—like on the ship.”

“True. But I want this to be less obvious and more suspenseful.”

“So…” I think for a moment. “Something where the party knows they’re in danger, but they don’t know where the danger’s coming from?”

His eyes widen. “Yes. Exactly that! Instead of running into a monster and having to kill it, I want them to feel safe and then realize they’re being picked off one by one. That probably makes me sound like the evilest DM ever.”

“Not in the least. If the game is fun, people will love it. Have you worked out any of the details yet?”

“Not a whole lot,” he says, and rubs the back of his neck. “I do a lot of thinking, but my ideas tend to go in circles. But maybe something where the party is being tracked? Like by an assassin?”

I nod encouragingly before he can second-guess himself, and his words come faster. He might not have everything figured out, but what he has sounds awesome. I can already imagine how the others would freak out if he ran this game with us.

“If I can pull everything together, I’d like to try putting it online for other players to use,” he tells me. “It’d be really cool to know that strangers were playing my modules.”

“Absolutely. But it’d be even better ifwecould play it.” I give him a pointed look. “We should do it after our current campaign. I know the others would be up for it. You could give Sloane a break.”

“I don’t know. It’ll need a lot more work before that. And there’s so much pressure knowing that other people will bewatching and judging online.” He pauses and regards me for a second. “But thanks for being into it. You’re the first person I’ve told, so I’m glad you didn’t hate it.”

I cock my head. “Of course I didn’t hate it. Thanks for telling me.”

“I have more notes on it back at the house. I could show you over pancakes sometime. Or”—he pauses, his jaw working back and forth—“maybe you could even swing by my place. If you were interested.”

I nod. I am interested—more than I want to admit.

At that moment, Mark blasts “Bohemian Rhapsody” through the van’s speakers, which means that (by law) we’re all required to sing the lyrics at the top of our lungs. But even if we aren’t talking anymore, it doesn’t mean I’m not fully aware of Logan’s presence inches from me. It’s like my entire body has become attuned to him, picking up on the slightest changes that no one else would notice. The small shift in his positioning that brings his knee closer to mine, his hand resting on the seat next to me. What would happen if I put my hand close to his and slightly brushed it? Or if I laced our fingers together like it wasn’t completely weird for us to hold hands? Would he pull away like I’d burned him? Or would he squeeze mine and whisper,Thank god. I’ve been waiting for you to do that.

It feels like getting a second life when I finally climb out of that van and into the bright March sunlight. I’m surprised by the crowds around the smallish stand-alone comic shop. It’s not a mob scene, but the parking lot is almost full, and more cars are pulling in. I scan the crowd, but I don’t seeCaden, Paige, or any cars I recognize. I take a deep breath and reset my thoughts. No more obsessive thoughts about ex-friends or an off-limits boy. Today is about friendship.

I slide my arm into Kashvi’s. “This is fun!”

“We haven’t done anything yet.” She chuckles.

“I know, but still. It’s fun to be out together.”

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