by Hazel Kelly
"Well, it was the best night of mine anyway."
She swallowed. "Really?"
"Of course." I took a sip of water. "To be honest, the only thing I feel bad or weird about right now is the fact that I ever shared you with anyone else."
She cast her eyes down and her glowing cheeks flushed. "Don't be," she said, lifting her eyes back to mine. "Because if you hadn't, I wouldn't understand how good last night was."
I smiled. "I knew it. You're fucking in love with me."
"Don't flatter yourself."
"Fine. As long as you agree that there’s no reason to stop enjoying each other's company just because we allowed ourselves to enjoy it a little more than usual."
"I suppose not," she said. "But don't pretend last night doesn't change things."
I shrugged. "So what if it does? I thought David Bowie was your idol."
"So?"
"So he was the ultimate chameleon, the poster boy who made change cool."
Her eyes lit up. "Are you suggesting that Bowie would think it was a great idea for us to fool around?"
"Are you kidding?" I asked. "He would be like, ‘Good for those kooks! So glad they embraced the ch-ch-ch-ch-change-’"
"Shh! You've made your point.”
"Good," I said. "In that case, have you decided yet?"
She pushed some half dried hair out of her face and leaned an ear towards me. "Decided what?"
I smiled. "How you're going to pay me back for breakfast?"
Chapter 35: Andi
I folded my arms and leaned against the frame of Steph's open door.
She was studying a pack of notecards, absorbed in a way I'd never been in anything. Well, almost anything.
And I admired her for it. Not for her devotion to keeping index card companies in business, but for her commitment to achieving her goals.
I liked to think I would’ve been just as devoted if I had a calling. Unfortunately, nothing had grabbed me as intensely as to warrant that kind of time and attention.
"You just going to stand there watching me or what?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the cards.
"Yeah," I said. "Until I'm done stewing in my pit of jealousy. Then I'm going to offer to make you some tea."
"Jealousy?" she asked, checking the back of the card at hand and looking over her shoulder at me. "Why jealousy?"
"Oh you know. The usual. Knowing what you want to do with your life."
"Trust me," she said, laying the stack on her desk between two other perfectly aligned stacks. "Knowing what you want to do with your life is totally overrated."
I laughed. "Yeah, people are always telling me they wish they had my complete lack of direction."
She slung an elbow over the back of her chair. "I wouldn't worry about it. The important thing is that your grades are good and you have options."
"A lot of options I'm not particularly drawn to."
"It's okay to not know the future."
"I know. I just feel like I was sold something different, ya know? Like I thought I would know what I wanted by the time I had to declare a major- at the latest. And instead, I feel increasingly less certain about what I'm going to do when I graduate all the time."
She smiled. "Too much time in the psych department would make anyone overthink things."
"So it's not me?"
She shook her head. "No. Your problem is a good one."
"And what exactly is my problem, Dr. Stone?"
She smiled. "You're interested in too many things."
"It doesn't sound like a curse when you say it like that."
"It's not," she said. "Besides, I know what you're going to do after you graduate."
"Oh? What's that?"
"Shane Jennings."
I let my head fall against the doorframe. "I don’t think I can put that on my resume."
"Which is a shame, really, considering it's about the best experience a girl could hope for."
I smiled. "Is that your prescription for what ails me, then?"
She nodded. "Along with a few Hail Marys."
I leaned away from the door. "So how about that tea break since you haven't emerged from your room in twenty four hours?"
"Got anything stronger?"
"Will French press do?"
"Oh god yes," she said, rising to her feet.
I decided not to call her attention to her lazy use of God’s name, but I made a mental note that she must’ve been totally exhausted. "How black do you want it?" I asked, walking into the kitchen.
"What are my choices?" she asked, groaning as she plopped on the couch.
"Will Smith black or Denzel black," I said, filling the kettle.
"How about Tyrese with no shirt on in the rain black?"
I laughed. "I'll do my best."
"I think I need to take a nap."
I flicked the kettle on and spooned some coffee into the French press. "I don't know," I said, coming around the corner. "I like the shit that comes out of your mouth when you’re sleep deprived."
"Does that mean you forgive me for eating your leftover cheesy hash last night?" she asked, propping her head up on the back of the couch.
"I didn't know you did that," I said, bending over the TV console and searching through the junk drawer for some eye drops. "But if they helped you push through the wee hours, then I'm glad I could help."
"Who did you go to Mama's with?"
I found the eye drops and tossed them beside her on the couch.
"Thanks," she said. "I guess they look as bad as they feel."
"This is the most stoned you've ever looked for sure," I said, checking the clock when I heard the kettle click off.
"It's the most stoned I've ever felt," she said, leaning back to water her eyes.
I sat on the arm of the couch. "Better?"
She nodded. "So? It was Shane, wasn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Was it a date?"
"Who the hell knows? I just ran into him."
She raised her eyebrows. "Are you guys official yet or-"
"Yeah. As in officially not labeling it."
"Oh, okay." She popped the cap back on the eye drops. "Can I officially be a bridesmaid, though?"
"It's not that serious."
"How dare you lie to me in my condition," she said, pointing a straight arm towards the kitchen. "Go make coffee for your sins."
"I don't think we even have that much coffee," I mumbled, returning to the kitchen. I poured some hot water in the French press and checked the clock again.
"Give it at least five minutes so it's nice and Tyresey."
"Sure," I said.
"And please explain how this isn't serious."
I came back around the corner. "Nothing has even happened yet."
"Look," she said, waving a hand in the air. "I may be a sleep deprived virgin obsessed with medical terminology and coloring books, but I am not an idiot."
"I wasn't implying-"
"I know something happened at that barn dance."
My lips fell apart.
"And you don't have to tell me every last detail because I can't handle that kind of excitement right now, but just tell me did you or didn't you do it?"
"Do what?" I asked, sitting on the arm of the couch.
"It."
"No." I shook my head. "Not yet."
She clapped her hands together. "So you're going to?!"
"Maybe. I don't know." I rubbed my face with my hands. "It's complicated."
"I'm not convinced," she said. "I mean, yeah, normally I think sex complicates things, but in this case, I think it might simplify things."
I dropped my head back. "How? How could it possibly?"
"Because then you can stop making yourself crazy."
"I'm not-"
"Yes you are. All this tension and wondering and will he or won't he and does he want to or am I just imagining it and- it's all too much."
I scrunched my face.
"Just fuck him already an
d find out."
I raised my eyebrows. "Sorry?"
"At least then you'll know if you guys are wasting your time or if you actually have something that’s worth being this worked up over."
"And what about Izzy?"
She shrugged. "Worst case scenario, there's no future for you and Shane, and you never speak of it again."
"That is so not worst case scenario."
She raised her eyebrows.
"What if we sleep together and only one of us feels differently? Or what if Izzy feels betrayed and freaks out? What if I lose them both?"
"You'll still be able to put ‘I slept with Shane Jennings’ on your resume."
I scoffed. "Oh, well, that's definitely worth the risk."
"Equally, this could turn into Shane and Andi sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-"
"Don't," I said, heading back to the kitchen. "Or Tyrese goes down the drain."
"You wouldn't dare," she said. "Besides, I don't need to rhyme to make my point."
"Which is?" I asked, cocking a hip in the kitchen doorway.
"That the wheels are in motion, and you’d be crazy to want to get off this ride."
I stepped out of sight and exhaled. Could Steph be right? I'd been so worried about what Shane might do next that the thought of him being my happily ever after hadn't even occurred to me.
"Andi?"
"What?" I asked, sliding the French press down as slowly as I could while trying not to think about how it would feel to slide down Shane at the same torturous speed.
"Have you seen Mike's Facebook page?"
I froze. "No. Why?"
"He's transferring."
Chapter 36: Shane
It was after nine when the online tournament finally ended. I could've kept playing, but I was happy with the two thousand dollar profit I'd made.
Plus, I was new to the site. If I won too much money too early, I risked getting blocked from higher grossing games.
I logged out, hoping my winnings would clear my account before the weekend rolled around.
Which reminded me.
I picked up my phone and leaned back, tapping through to my most recent text thread with Andi.
"Fancy coming to a stoplight party this weekend?" I typed before hitting send. Then I set the phone down and flipped my econ book open to where a half finished practice test was holding my page.
"Is that like a Tupperware party because I don't think I'm in the market for any traffic lights?"
I tapped the keys. "There will also be orange cones and racing flags available."
"You trying to piss me off?"
I sighed. "You've never heard of a stoplight party?"
"Have you never heard of picking up the phone?"
I rolled my eyes and hit dial.
"Shane. Why, hello? To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" she asked.
"I didn't want to bother you in case it was past your bedtime."
"For your information," she said. "I haven't been in bed before ten since I was a teenager."
"Maybe you haven't had a good enough reason to be."
"Perhaps."
"You at home?"
"Yeah," she said. "Having a sexy night in with Freud."
"Sounds creepy."
"Sometimes it can be."
"I could come over and tell you what I've been dreaming about lately if you’d like a chance to practice your psychobabble."
"It's called psychoanalysis, actually, and I'm pretty sure I can guess what you've been dreaming about."
I smiled.
"What are you up to?" she asked.
"Econ."
"Someday we'll wish homework was our biggest problem."
"So I've heard." I leaned back in my chair and twirled a pencil between my fingers. "So you want to come to the party or what?"
"Do I have to dress like a traffic signal?"
"Not unless you want to."
"Go on."
"The stoplight refers to the color cup you drink out of,” I said. "Red if you're unavailable, yellow if it's complicated, and green if you're single and looking."
"And you think Freud is creepy?"
I raised my eyebrows. "Interested?"
"I'm interested in what color cup you plan to drink out of."
"Come to the party and find out."
Silence.
"It's not until Friday," I said. "In case that silence was you putting your shoes on to come right over."
She laughed. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"You know me so well."
"I thought I did."
I furrowed my brows. "And now you're not so sure?"
"No. It's not that."
"What is it?"
"It's just- being the object of your attention is hard work."
"You ought to be used to it by now."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you've always held my attention, Andi. You just didn't realize it."
"Do I get to choose my own cup color?"
"Of course."
"And if I chose green?" she asked.
"I'll be first in line to chat you up."
"That's sweet."
"I have my moments."
"You didn't happen to see Mike's Facebook did you?" she asked.
"No. Why?"
"Looks like he's transferring to Southern."
I clenched my fist around the pencil. "Have you heard from him?"
"No."
"Then his actions aren't my concern." Did she creep him? Does she still care?
"I didn't see it myself. I blocked him after that night I stayed at yours. Anyway, I just mentioned it because-"
I leaned forward.
"I wanted to thank you."
I pursed my lips.
"For looking out for me."
"I'm always going to look out for you.”
"I know."
"And not just cause of how hot you are."
"I'm being serious, Shane."
"So am I," I said. "Does that mean you'll come?"
"Will my attendance suffice as cheesy hash payback?"
"It will."
"I'll see you Friday then."
"Wear something slutty."
"The party sounds slutty enough as it is without-"
My phone came to life in my hands. Izzy. "Fine. Surprise me. I gotta go." I hung up when she was halfway done saying goodbye. Fuck.
"Hey," I said, feigning a casualty I didn't feel.
"Are you with a woman right now?" Izzy asked.
"What? No?"
"You sound breathless."
"You’re so dramatic."
"Were you just on the phone with her? Is that why you didn't answer my Facebook message?"
"No. I didn't answer your message because I forgot I was online-" Did Andi know that? Is that why she asked if I knew about Mike? "And because I'm studying for a quiz."
"Who is she?"
"There is no she."
"Oh please. You haven't bitched about a sorority girl in weeks, which means somebody is keeping you pleasantly distracted."
"Her name is Econ."
"Are you telling me I'm wrong?"
"I know better than to use those words," I said, leaning an elbow on my desk.
"Especially if it's a lie. Why won't you tell me?"
I squeezed the bridge of my nose. "You're like a goddamn pit bull."
"Is she blonde?"
"No."
"Is she in a house?"
