I still my hand, caught off-guard by his bold request and, after a moment, shoot him a surprised look, “Promise, huh?”
He swivels in his seat and leans over the edge of his desk, “Come on, Sorensen,” his blue eyes look positively radioactive, “I want to see how much fun you are outside of this place.”
●●●
Emma scrunches up her face and peers at the grey Rubbermaid garbage can filled with muddy liquid, “What’s in it?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug, “but I bet it’ll get you wrecked.”
The house should’ve been condemned long ago, much like every other house on the block with eight to 15 college students living in it at one time. Just as buckeye flags and a permanent folding table for beer pong on each porch are commonplace, so are the peeling paint, dented siding, and decaying shingles sliding off into ancient flowerbeds littered with cigarette butts.
Katie sniffs her red Solo cup and gulps down a mouthful of the murky potion, “Ugh, God.” She coughs as her face contorts and she grits her teeth.
Emma shoots Katie a dubious look, “What’s it taste like?”
Katie shrugs and swirls the sickly greyish purple garbage juice around in her cup, “Kind of fruity, not bad.” She turns to me, “So, who are you supposed to meet here again?”
As soon as I open my mouth, Barrett shoots me a sideways glance.
“Colson Lutz,” I say flatly, avoiding eye contact with any of them.
Katie arches one eyebrow and looks at me suspiciously, “Colson Lutz?” The way she says his name makes it sound like I’m mistaken—or that she doesn’t believe me.
“Yeah?”
Katie’s tone flattens and her eyes narrow, “Colson Lutz…”
“Yes,” I repeat, “why do you keep saying his name like that?”
Katie erupts in a cackle, giving me a start. Her laughter catches the breeze and echoes over the lawn and into the trees. Barrett presses her lips together and shakes her head.
“Colson fucking Lutz!” Katie guffaws and staggers backward, nearly spilling her garbage juice.
“What?” I hiss, mortified that everyone on the front lawn’s probably heard her scream his name. I grab her arm with a scowl, “Stop saying his name and tell me why it matters!” I hope to God he isn’t standing within earshot.
Katie takes a gulp and waves her hand at me as she swallows her mouthful of bad decisions, “Dude, I had no idea he was the one flirting with you in class. Colson Lutz…” She shakes her head and gazes aimlessly across the lawn. After a few moments, she looks back at me and waggles her eyebrows, “And he has his sights set on you.”
My eyes dart around the lawn, still cognizant of who might be listening, “Is that bad?”
Katie raises her cup to her lips and rolls her eyes, “Make him wear a condom.”
Emma spews a mouthful of her bottled water across the grass and Barrett finally loses her composure and erupts in laughter. I tip my head back and squeeze my eyes shut. She’s definitely drawing attention to us now. But so what if Colson Lutz wants to fuck me? Maybe I want to fuck him, too. Did anyone ever think of that? It’s not like I’m in love with him or even want to date him.
OK, maybe I want to date him. A little.
“I need a beer,” I swat Barrett’s arm, “now.”
The inside of Anderson and Cade’s house is no better than the outside. Barrett follows me into the living room where people of varying degrees of intoxication are milling about. I scan the room and catch sight of a black plastic garbage can sitting in the corner with a keg inside. I fill one cup, and then another, handing one to Barrett. At least the beer is cold. I turn around, my cheeks still filled with the nondescript lager, and freeze.
Two dingey sofas sit across the room; a forest green one occupied by three girls with a guy perched on one of the arms, and the other a floral sofa that looks like it came out of my grandmother’s living room set from the 80’s. One of the arms is tattered from years of cat clawing and muddled thread cascades down the wood frame, deflated from the stuffing disintegrating long ago.
Colson is sitting on the floral one, his legs splayed out while he talks to some guy standing to the side. He extends his arm across the back of the sofa, behind a girl with long, straight, dark brown hair wearing a lavender cropped t-shirt emblazoned with Theta letters. She’s looking at her phone and periodically moving it in front of him to show him whatever’s on the screen.
Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I don’t think he’s seen me yet even though we can’t be more than 20 feet away from each other. A tall, blonde guy in a grey t-shirt and a Steelers cap walks up behind Barrett and says something over her shoulder. She turns around and recognizes him, greeting him with a hug. While Barrett is occupied, I inconspicuously scan the room.
I should just walk up and say hi to him. But I don’t know, it seems…weird.
We stand there for what seems like forever while I glance back and forth, waiting to see if Colson notices us. Finally, my gaze falls on him and our eyes meet. I cast him a smile of recognition, assuming he’ll wave, stand up, say something, or give any indication of my existence. Instead, he turns his focus back to the guy he’s been talking to.
I keep watching him to see if he’ll eventually end his conversation and come over to us, but he remains on the sofa, next to the girl with the shiny brown hair. Over the next few minutes, she gradually sinks further into his side and leans across his chest to talk to someone else at the end of the sofa. When she leans back onto her cushion, her hand lingers on Colson’s leg and she curls her onyx fingernails over his knee.
He just sits there the entire time, his hand dangling from the back of the couch, brushing against her hair each time she moves back and forth. She leans in close to his face, looking into his eyes while he listens to whatever the hell she’s saying. And when he tilts his head and murmurs a reply into her ear, she lets out a giggle and her hand travels further up his leg.
I feel ill. I feel a heaviness settle in the pit of my stomach and, suddenly, I realize I don’t belong here. I don’t know any of these people and I’m only here to see a guy who can’t even be bothered to acknowledge my existence. I turn away and catch Barrett’s eye.
She glances around and takes a sip of beer, “Is he here?”
I motion to the sofa, “Oh, is he ever.”
Barrett follows my gaze, doing a double-take when she sees Colson, “Who the fuck is that?” she scoffs.
I give a shrug, utterly defeated.
“Whatever,” Barrett mutters, her attitude changing in the blink of an eye, “this place sucks, let’s leave.”
I chug my full cup of beer in less than 10 seconds and toss the empty cup on the table next to the keg. We emerge from the rat’s nest back into the night air and catch sight of Katie, talking to a few women near the driveway.
I stride across the lawn and tap her arm, “We’re leaving,” I grumble.
