Conventionally Yours (True Colors)

by Annabeth Albert

  “Oh, that would be awesome.” He bit his lip. “And it’s what? An hour-and-a-half train ride? Hour drive? I could maybe come visit you sometimes…”

  “Sometimes.” I shoved his arm. “More like you could come too. They’ve got job offers for all four of us. And they want to bring Professor Tuttle on as a consultant. They’re developing a new top-secret product—introductory decks and game play packages aimed at younger players. Kids. So you’d still be working with kids, just maybe more indirectly than a classroom. But they’re going to have play test groups and stuff. They’ll need someone to teach the kids the rules.”

  “Wow.” He swallowed hard, fingers twisting the bed covers. “Is it an all-or-nothing offer? Like you need all of us to say yes so you get the job?”

  Some of my giddiness fled. He wasn’t as over-the-moon as I’d hoped. “No. I’m going to accept, and not just because of health insurance. Not gonna lie, the proximity to you and Gracehaven helps, but also it’s Odyssey. And I remember playing as a kid, first falling in love with the game. It would be awesome to get more kids into the game. And yeah, I want to work with you, but if you want to do the teaching certificate, you’re right, it’s not that far. I’d still see you—way more than sometimes too.”

  “Good.” He nodded, and I could almost see all the gears whirring in his impressive brain, weighing all the variables and possibilities. “Jasper’s probably going to want to wait for graduation. Payton…who knows.”

  “But you?” I tried to tell him with my eyes how important this was to me. To us. “I don’t care as much about them and what they decide, but you…you matter.”

  “Really? You’d really want to work with me every day? You don’t think you’d get tired of me?”

  “Never.” I got what he was really asking, and I pulled him in for a fast kiss. “Like I said, teach if you want to, but I think that playing Odyssey together all day and then doing that-which-Alden-can’t-name all night sounds pretty perfect. I’m not going to get sick of you.”

  “Hmm.” He licked his lips.

  “Just think about it?” I wasn’t above begging. I had a vision of a tiny place in the city, bigger bed than kitchen, him in it, endless string of days and nights together, and I wanted it so bad it hurt.

  “Yeah.” He nodded solemnly. “I can do that. I can think.”

  “And you’re good at thinking.” I gave him another quick kiss. “The Odyssey folks want to have breakfast with us in the morning before we hit the road. And I might have already promised to bring you. Keep an open mind, okay?”

  His eyes went adorably wide. “We’re having breakfast with Imelda Sanchez? For real?”

  “For real. They’ve been watching you too. All the bigwigs had great things to say about us. My enthusiasm. Your strategy. We’d be an unstoppable team.”

  “Well, we haven’t killed each other yet. I suppose that’s a good sign. And if we make it back to Gracehaven in one piece, maybe that’s a good sign too.”

  “We will. And surviving two weeks on the road together, that’s got to be like four months in regular relationship time.”

  “Ha. Let’s see if you survive a brunch with the moms.” He laughed before his expression turned more vulnerable. “If you still want to, I mean. And you don’t have to crash with Jasper or Payton either. I’ve got room.”

  “Enough for me and the goat?” I gestured at the other bed where the goat had been that morning. “And hey! You got the goat a friend!”

  A frog soldier plush toy now sat next to the goat. Alden looked away, blushing. “I thought he needed a friend. You said he can’t be an only kid. And you needed a prize for winning.”

  “We can always use one more mascot. So, me, the goat, and the frog? You sure you want us to sleep over?”

  “It’s not a huge place, but yeah, if you want, there’s room.”

  “I totally want. And I’m more concerned with whether you’ve got a big bed than the rest of your place.” I winked at him. Funny how I’d gone from near homeless twenty-four hours ago to having all sorts of options today, but there was only one option that I truly wanted, and that was more time with Alden.

  His blush said he was still unsure about believing me, but his kiss said he wanted to, and that was enough for me. I’d just dedicate myself to proving to us both that we were worth trusting in, that we’d make it, and that our future was nothing but bright.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Alden

  “Is it wrong that I’m really happy to see this car?” Conrad asked as he carefully arranged the goat, the frog, and his giant trophy in the back seat.

  “Me too,” I had to admit. We hadn’t even visited the car in the parking garage since our arrival on Thursday, and now, late morning on Monday, I was beyond excited to be nearing the end of our Las Vegas stay. I was ready to hit the road again, and yeah, Black Jack had totally grown on me, to the point that I gave the door a fond pat as I closed it.

  “And I’m running out of shirts.” He grinned as he tossed his bulging backpack into the trunk. “I’m finding us a place near a laundromat tonight.”

  “You are?” I held up my now-dog-eared folder of papers. “I thought I was in charge of navigation?”

  “Yeah, but I’m the one with the cash burning a hole in my pocket.” He grinned as he headed for the driver’s side.

  “You are the winner,” I conceded. “But you need to save—”

  “And I will. Promise. But don’t you want to take our time getting back? Have a little fun? Remember Colorado?”

  “How could I forget?” Despite the empty parking garage, I still blushed at the memory of all those kisses.

  “See?” He made a pleading face as I slid into the passenger seat. “Admit it. You’re in no hurry to get back to our real lives.”

  Real lives. I wasn’t even sure I knew what that was anymore. I felt more real right here and now, about to head out on another road trip with Conrad, than I had in the twenty-three years leading up to this moment. Was my real life back home? All the expectations and pressures? The feeling left out? The anxiety and worries?

  And was real life for Conrad his friends and parties? The life he’d had before everything went down with his parents. Or was it the dead-end jobs and borrowed room? I wasn’t sure I liked either of those scenarios. I wanted to believe in this Conrad, the one I’d come so far with.

  Something of my indecision must have shown on my face because Conrad frowned. “Or are you? You miss your moms? Your Odyssey online friends? Whatever else you had planned for your summer?”

  I couldn’t lie to him, but my voice still came out as little more than a whisper. “You. You’re the only plan I’ve got for my summer. The only one that matters at least.”

  His face softened. “Ditto. And I know we’ve got to get the car back to Professor Tuttle eventually, but he said last night to take our time. So let’s do that. There will be plenty of time for all manner of boring adult stuff waiting for us.”

  “Adulting might be overrated.” I could say that after a morning spent having fancy breakfast with the Odyssey bigwigs and listening to their pitch to us for jobs. Conrad had proven to be a surprisingly shrewd negotiator, not leaping at their first salary-and-benefits offer and working out a flexible start date.

  For myself, I’d left things more open-ended. I was tempted by the idea of working for the game I loved, but I also had a vision of myself in a classroom surrounded by kids, using the game to teach logic and reasoning, sharing some of my favorite books, being the sort of teacher I’d loved in school. The past week had given me that dream back, and I was reluctant to let it go, even for an opportunity this good.

  Conrad seemed to get that, not pressuring me to accept the offer and asking supportive questions while we’d treated ourselves to pizza delivery the night before. But we hadn’t been able to totally escape the convention and stay in a bliss
ed-out cocoon of good feelings. There had been more interview requests for Conrad, more friends to talk to, and congratulations to receive.

  This, right here and now, the two of us alone, felt right, and I couldn’t deny either of us the sort of fun that had brought us together in the first place. “Okay. Let’s do it. Let’s take the long way home.”

  “You’ve got it.” He beamed at me as he put the car in reverse. “Set a course for somewhere with a pool and laundry facilities.”

  “And stars,” I added, getting into his plan.

  “Definitely stars.” His wink promised far more than just astronomy lessons, and warmth spread throughout my body.

  “We could film some content for the professor by the pool. He needs a reaction video to you winning.”

  “What’s the opposite of a death scene?” He laughed. “Our audience won’t know what to make of me as a winner.”

  “You’ve always been a winner,” I said firmly. “And you didn’t need the tournament to prove it either.”

  “Easy for you to say. I’m not as up on the rules as you, but I’m pretty sure it’s like a boyfriend requirement or something to say nice stuff like that.”

  I liked being called his boyfriend far more than I should have, practically preening in my seat as we headed out of downtown Vegas.

  “I mean it,” I insisted. “You don’t need this job either. You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me at least.”

  “Thanks.” His voice was thick, and his mouth opened and closed a few times, as though there was something more he wanted to say but couldn’t. He still hadn’t said the words back to me. Not that I was pining for them or anything, but I wanted him to trust me with his heart, trust that this thing between us wasn’t going to end up hurting either of us in the long run.

  “Maybe I had to prove something to me,” he said at last. “And I did. And you’re right that it wasn’t winning that did it. Or landing the job. Or at least not only those things. I had to learn to believe in myself again. And that’s on you and the trip more than the tournament. You mainly. You’ve…taught me a lot.”

  “Thanks. And you too.” My voice was rough. I wanted to say the words again, but I didn’t want him to feel obligated to say them back. But then the car stopped at a red light right before the interstate on-ramp, and our eyes met. Held. And maybe he wasn’t able to say it yet, but I felt it, down to my dusty shoes.

  And when he grinned at me, I grinned back.

  “Here’s to another adventure,” he said as the light turned green, and I knew, deep inside, in that place where my most secret desires lived, that I would follow this guy anywhere.

  * * *

  “It’s so big. Even the second time seeing it, I can’t get over it.”

  “That’s what he said.” Conrad cackled next to me as we waited in line for our turn to take one of the little pods up to the top of the Arch. We were still taking our time getting home, and he’d promised me a trip to the top of the Arch, so here we were. Dusk was starting to fall, and hopefully we’d get a good view of both the setting sun and the city lights.

  I wanted to grab his hand but settled for standing close enough to brush shoulders. We had kissed our way through Utah and Colorado again, but most of that was in remote scenic vistas and national parks, with no audience. Here, I wasn’t so sure about the PDA, so I’d save it for our hotel room later.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Mr. Mind Reader said. “You’re making me regret signing up for the riverboat dinner cruise thing.”

  “Hey, that was your idea.” I bumped my shoulder into his, both to protest and because touching him even casually felt so good. I hadn’t let Conrad try gambling with his tournament winnings, but I had let him have more of a say in where we’d stopped for nights, like the downtown St. Louis hotel we nabbed on one of the deal sites.

  “I know. I generally have good ones.” He gave me a goofy grin, which I couldn’t help but return.

  “You do.”

  “Including—”

  “Now boarding the tram,” an announcement cut Conrad off, but I knew what he’d been about to say, bringing up the idea of us working together again. We’d been on something of a big decision moratorium the past few days, enjoying the trip like he’d wanted, and not talking too much about our futures and what was waiting for us back home.

  I still worried he’d regret passing on the pro tour, missing out on the chance for big money, fame, and travel. But then, I worried about a lot of things more than he did. Which was okay, and part of how we balanced each other out. I was slow and cautious, and he was already floating around the deep end. I made sure we didn’t drown, and he made sure we actually got in the water and had fun.

  And he did have good ideas—posing the goat and frog on everything from the red rocks of Utah to pine tree stumps in Colorado to make Professor Tuttle smile and collecting silly souvenirs for the professors and my moms from places like an old-time mine in Colorado. Notably, we did not have anything from Kansas to bring back, not even good news. We’d sped through Kansas because Conrad still wasn’t up for dealing with his family. His mom hadn’t shown much willingness to truly reconcile other than her congratulatory texts. And it wasn’t hard to see why they hurt so badly for Conrad.

  We boarded the tram, which was actually little pods with flat white seats and room for three or four people each. As luck would have it, we were alone in ours.

  “Nervous?” he asked me as the doors slid shut behind us.

  “A little.” It was far easier to admit things to him now, to not try to hold it together all the time around him. And weirdly enough, knowing that I didn’t have to do that, didn’t have to be perfect, actually helped me be less anxious overall.

  Sliding over from opposite me to right beside me instead, he took my hand and squeezed it. “Too bad there are probably security cameras…”

  “We are not making out here.” I didn’t pull away, though, instead leaning in toward him, my earlier worries about PDA lessening.

  “Let the security guard see us cuddling. If it keeps you from freaking out in this tiny space—” There was a waver behind Conrad’s bravado that made me cut him off with a snort.

  “Me, huh? You’re not the least bit anxious yourself?”

  “Okay. Maybe a little. This is a little weird, and if I think too hard about how high—”

  “How about we don’t think about that,” I said sternly, as much to help me as him. Without warning, the tram shuddered to a halt. “Are we at the top?”

  “Don’t think so.” Conrad worried his lower lip with his teeth.

  “The tram is experiencing a momentary delay. Please stay calm,” an announcement crackled through tinny speakers.

  “Easy for them to say.” Taking a shuddery breath, I tried to quiet my rising adrenaline. The tram rocked slightly, an unwelcome reminder of how far up we were, how trapped we could be. Suddenly, it seemed even smaller and more rickety.

  Pressing a kiss to my temple, Conrad wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “So this would probably be a bad place to have a serious discussion about our future, right?”

  “The worst,” I managed through tight lips. “How about we live through this first?”

  “We have not come this far to meet our demise before we even reach the top.” His tone was rather philosophical, as if he was talking about more than just the Arch.

  “I know. I just don’t want to crash.” Like him, I didn’t simply mean this ride. “I’d rather do things slowly. Cautiously. Make sure we’ve got a safety net. Plan B. The last thing I want to do is choose something that ends up being the thing that tears us apart.”

  “I get you. And I don’t want that either. I want to stay together. Whatever it takes. And if that means going slowly for you, then we go slowly. Investigate your teaching certificate options. You’re going to be an amazing teacher, and I�
�m pretty sure the job opportunity will still be there later, and if it’s not, we’ll deal with that too. You being comfortable is a big deal to me.”

  “Thanks.” His words meant more to me than I could ever properly express. “You know, there are teaching certificate programs in the city, too, I’m sure. Maybe it wouldn’t have to mean me back in Gracehaven and you alone in the city.”

  “Yeah?” His smile was so cautious that it made my insides tremble with how very sweet he was, how incredibly lucky I was. The tram rocked again, but this time, I didn’t panic, the small space more than filled by good feelings as he continued, “I am going to need a roommate, one way or another. And you’ve already vetted me. Plus, you as a roommate versus a stranger means one less bed.”

  “I would hope so.” I gave him a stern look before turning more thoughtful again, rolling with his idea. “One bed. Room for our mascots and our card collections. Not living with the moms. It could maybe work.”

  “Lose the ‘maybe.’ It would work.”

  “You don’t think I’m being difficult, not wanting to do it all at once—live together and work together and play together?”

  “Is ‘play’ your euphemism for—”

  “Conrad. I’m being serious here.”

  “I know. And I appreciate that. No, you’re not being difficult. You’re being pragmatic. And you’ve got your own future to worry about, your own dreams. The way I see it, as long as that future includes me in some way—”

  “It will,” I hurried to assure him, no longer able to picture a time without him.

  “See? Then we’re both already winners.”

  Our lips met right as the tram lurched back to life, and we pulled apart with a start, both laughing. “Let’s hope we’re going up.”

  “We are.” His mouth twisted back and forth a few times. “And even if we’re not…I love you.”

  “Wow.” I breathed his admission in, let it ground me. Other than me blurting it out at the tournament, I hadn’t said the words again. We’d come close in bed, but I didn’t really count sex talk. Or—Crap. “Wait. Is this some sort of near-death confession?”