After an incredible brunch and a somewhat awkward meeting of Ben's other friend, Davey, Ben suggested we go for a short hike, so we found ourselves driving out of the city and towards Westfall Lake. It had been a while since I'd been up there—you could get there by bus, but only if you transferred two times, and usually I didn't have the patience for that. It was much easier to go by car; that, I had to admit, was one benefit of owning a car even if I lived in the city.
“So you like to keep active,” I surmised as we parked in the lot at the head of the trail.
“Yeah,” Ben said, shrugging a little. “I mean, yes and no. I know a lot of guys who like going to the gym and stuff like that—but I hate that. Put me out in nature, give me a good place to run or a good place to hike, and I'm on board. I love backcountry skiing in the winter, too. But for me, it's not about building muscles or even staying in shape or anything like that. I just like being on the go.”
“Makes sense,” I said.
“And you?” Ben asked. “I know you run, or at least, I know you were running the morning that I bowled you over...”
“Yeah, I'm a runner,” I said. “I run most mornings out of the week. Despite the fact that I have 8am classes five days of the week this semester.”
“Ouch,” Ben said. “You must get up early, then.”
“Usually I try to be out the door and starting my run around 6,” I told him. “If I run for an hour, that gets me back to the dorm by 7 or 7:30 at the latest. Then, I hop through a quick shower and get over to class. Fortunately, I live on campus so I don't have to go very far to get to class. And as you know, it's a pretty small campus.”
“Still, that's impressive,” Ben said. “I don't know that I'd have that kind of dedication. But I do a lot of my runs in the evening instead, so I suppose I'd probably still be running, just not so early in the day.”
“Oh, I love being up early in the morning and running,” I said, shaking my head a little. “It's so peaceful, and It makes me feel so nice and productive right from the start of my day.”
“What else do you do, when you're not running?” Ben asked.
“Well, I have classes,” I reminded him. “I'm a second-year History major with a dual-degree in French, so that takes up a lot of my time.”
“History and French, hmm?” Ben asked. “Not to ask the question that you must always get asked, but what exactly do you think you're going to do with a degree like that?”
I laughed a little and shook my head. “Does it really matter?” I asked. “I'll figure that out when I get there. At the moment, I'm just enjoying studying something that I'm interested in.”
“Do you have a job too, though?” Ben asked.
“Yeah, I'm a barista at this place a little ways away from campus,” I told him. “I've been working there since the start of freshman year. It's great; I know everyone, we've got our regulars who come in every day. And it's just a cozy atmosphere.” Quickly, before he could change the subject from there, I asked, “But what about your work? You still haven't told me exactly what you do.”
Ben sighed. “That's because it's totally not interesting,” he said. “I just do some manual labor stuff.”
“Bullshit,” I said, shaking my head. “You don't have the callouses that you would have if you did manual labor.”
“Oh, now you know everything there is to know about manual labor?” Ben asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Well, no, but...” I shook my head. “Also, I know how difficult it is to get visas to the United States. They wouldn't let you stay here if you were just a manual laborer; you have to be doing something at least marginally skilled.”
“And an expert on visas as well,” Ben said, looking amused. “This, I did not see coming.”
“Plus, if you were just a manual laborer, I doubt that you'd have the money to just disappear to Thailand for a week with your friends,” I pointed out. “You'd have to be making some serious money for that.”
Ben looked a little agitated at that, and I wondered if maybe I should drop the subject. But wasn't it a little strange to be going on dates with a guy who wouldn't even tell me what he did for a living? Unless…
“You're a spy,” I said. “Clearly that's the only explanation. You're a spy, so you can't tell me what it is that you actually do for a living, and-” I broke off as Ben started laughing.
He slung an arm around my shoulders, drawing me into a quick sideways hug. “I like you,” he said as he released me. “God, I haven't had this much fun with someone in a while.”
I blushed a little, but internally I was wondering whether his lack of answer to my question might not count as an admission that yes, he was in fact a spy. Wouldn't that be...interesting.
“There's a little waterfall up here to the left,” Ben said, changing the subject entirely.
I rolled my eyes. “I know,” I told him. “I've only been coming up here since I was a kid.”
“Oh really?” Ben asked, a gleam in his eye. “Then I guess you've been out to Custard Falls, too, haven't you?”
I frowned, not familiar with the name. “I don't really know,” I admitted. “Usually I just kind of wander around out here...”
Ben shook his head. “If you'd been to Custard Falls, you'd know,” he told me. “They're the most impressive ones around this area. It's a bit of a hike out there—probably about two hours there and then another couple hours back—but it's definitely worth it. If you're interested. Or we could save it for another day.”
I thought back over my schedule for the week. I had a paper due for one of my history classes that I really should get back to work on, but on the other hand… Well, this was nice. It had been a while since I'd found someone who wanted to go hiking with me.
“Let's go,” I said. “Lead the way.”
Ben grinned at me and proceeded to do exactly that.