Page 2 of Ring Rust

They spent the rest of the party chatting about their figurines, their favorite local hobby shop, and a thousand other topics, all of which they aligned on so perfectly it felt like the universe had arranged itself thirteen billion years ago with this specific outcome in mind.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Ryan,” Jasper said as they layered cake, fruit, and custard for some dessert he’d never heard of. “I find your use of cotton wool for whitewater… unpleasant.”

“It gives it texture,” Ryan said, shrugging slightly as he used a long spoon to place strawberries in precise, concentric circles, something Jasper found strangely alluring. “One of your little figurines could get totally lost in there. Which, actually, is what would happen to a real person in real whitewater, so maybe that’s what we should do.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think what?”

Jasper turned his body towards Ryan’s and leaned his hip on the counter. “I’m not sacrificing one of my figurines for yourcotton wool rapids. Why would my people even be near water moving that quickly?”

Ryan laughed, and Jasper’s stomach flipped. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this way about someone after two hours of talking. As much as he tried to avoid looking at his phone, he kept checking the time to reassure himself there was still plenty of time before they parted ways.

“Okay. I won’t make you give up your figurines. You can keep painting their creepy faces forever.”

Jasper laughed that time and shoved Ryan with his shoulder. Beni came into the kitchen just as they finished placing the final sliced strawberries on top of the trifle.

“Perfect timing!” she said, snagging the bowl and leaving just as quickly as she’d arrived.

“She meant to say thank you,” Ryan said.

“She and Stevie speak the same language, I think.”

Jasper was secretly glad when Ryan pulled his phone out and read through an email. He shook his head at Ryan’s mumbled apology, because it gave Jasper time to take him all in.

They leaned against the counter with opposite hips, facing each other, Ryan’s focus on his phone. Jasper’s head was clouded with feelings he couldn’t identify, incapable of conjuring up a single interesting topic for discussion. The thought of Ryan finding something more interesting to do put his stomach in knots, and he was about to ask about his favorite colors or foods out of desperation, when Ryan looked up, smiling.

“Sorry about that, again. I have a tryout at a local wrestling promotion soon, and they needed to change the time,” Ryan said, pulling off his sweater. “Warm in here.”

“Oh, yeah, wrestling promotion.” Jasper nodded. “Like, um. Marketing promotions, or?”

Ryan laughed—not unkindly, but even if it had been, Jasper wouldn’t have cared. The sound was so velvety and rich, he almost got on his knees right there.

“I’m a professional wrestler back in Blue Ridge. I’m trying to make it big out here, that’s why I moved. Well, that, and being closer to Beni. Anyway, a promo is just the company that hosts matches, but sometimes they take on employees. I’m hoping to become one of those employees.”

“Mmm. That explains a few things,” Jasper said, eyeing Ryan’s chest. God, his body.

“So, what’s your story, then?” Ryan asked.

“My, uh, story?”

“I know a bit about you from Beni. I know you’re a teacher, and I know you’re from the area. I know you went to UMass. But what about everything else?”

“Everything else? You’re very curious.”

Ryan’s voice lowered into something unexpectedly silky. “About you, yes.”

Jumbled head aside, Jasper was sure there was nothing about him that was as impressive, fun, or interesting as Ryan appeared to be, especially now that Jasper’s entire face was probably bright pink. But he seemed genuinely interested, so Jasper chose the most interesting thing he could think of.

“Well, my uncle just died.”

Ryan’s mouth opened slightly. He was quiet for a moment before he finally said, “I’m really sorry.”

“Oh my God! Sorry, no, that wasn’t the end of that thought,” Jasper said, his face heating further, probably now the color of a summer tomato. “I mean, he was a great guy, but no. I meant to say he died and left Stevie and me Pandora’s Thrillville. You know, the theme park outside Amherst?”

“I’m not familiar with it, no,” Ryan said.

Right, Ryan was new to town. This was perfect. “You’ll have to come with me sometime. It’s terrible, but amazing. He built it in the seventies and dedicated it to his cat, Pandora. Ancient animatronics, creepy functional art. I always say, you haven’t lived until you’ve climbed into a cat’s ear and toppled out its mouth.”