Page 84 of Charming Like Us
It hits me now.
“You can quit a job,” I realize. “You can’t quit an obligation.”
Charlie flips another page. “I suppose I could quit an obligation, but it’d have far reaching consequences.”
“The company would dissolve?”
Charlie nods. “My parents, my aunts, and uncles would pull their money out. Something Maximoff built from the ground up would be destroyed overnight.” His yellow-green eyes flit up to me. “I don’t love being the life support, but it’s where I’m at.”
He sinks into his book and his blunt, and while my subject is stationary, I change lenses and focus on wide shots. Oscar chats with security, and I try not to bother him.
An hour later, we walk the same densely wooded area back to the open field with the starting line and registration. Charlie doesn’t try to lose us this time. Maybe giving up on the whole “romance lost in the woods” act.
We breach the thick, tall trees, and I’m surprised no crowds are here. The only runners who’ve completed the 5k loop are Sullivan, Ryke, and Maximoff.
Sweat barely stains their tees, water bottles half-empty, and they loosely stretch on the grass like they just jogged one-lap around a block.
Oscar, Charlie, and I walk closer to the registration tables.
Something…itches…
I scratch my shoulder. Grimacing, I try to relieve the irritation a few more times, but the itch only grows. “Hey, Oscar,” I say. “Is something on my back?”
He walks around and scratches at his own bicep. He zones in on my shoulder that peeks out of a sleeveless tee. “Highland…”
My eyes fall to his arm. Small dark bumps dot his brown skin.Oscar.“What’d we walk through in the woods?”
He itches his bicep again. “Let’s go to the cabins.”
Medical is located in the camp cabins.
Shit.
18
OSCAR OLIVEIRA
Charlie is scratching his neck,so I tell him to seek medical with me and Jack, and on our way to the cabins, I’m resisting the urge to maul the inflamed patches on my bicep.
Poison ivy, that’s my best guess.
We frolicked through motherfucking poison ivy.
I could grumble over comms, but A.) Jack is beside me and I don’t want to bethatpetulant in front of him. I have to show some class.
And B.) drama strikes.
“Fight at the refreshment tents!” an Epsilon temp shouts over comms, using the main frequency for the event. Every bodyguard is on the same channel. “I need backup!” His voice pitches in my ear. “I need backup!”
I narrow my focus on the white tents as we cross the open field. A bunch of teenagers are crowding the table with water jugs and cups. And two teenage boys are yelling at each other while the stocky temp tries to pull them apart.
They shrug off the bodyguard and keep shouting. Can’t piece apart the words from here.
I strain my eyes, making out dark-brown shaggy hair and a camera in his hands. Holy fucking shit, that’s Jesse Highland. Alarm triggers in my body, and I don’t think. Just react.
“Charlie stay here for a sec,” I tell him.
His brows knit together, but he stops mid-walk.
