by R. T. Lowe
Caitlin and Lucas were smiling at each other and it was making Felix nervous. Four hours into the Satler party and Felix was sure they’d finally run out of steam or gotten bored. But this was the calm before the storm. A breather between rounds.
“So why don’t you let me buy you a steak?” Lucas asked her. The room they were in was loud (reggae from across the hall was colliding with the techno house blasting from speakers stacked on the desks) and packed. The beer supply had dried up an hour or so ago, but Larry and the other fatassosaurs had saved the night—and ensured hangovers for everyone—with five big jugs of cheap rum and armfuls of Coke.
“A steak?” Caitlin said testily, her eyes sharp. “Have you ever been to a slaughterhouse?” She paused, partly for effect, partly because Lucas had been pushing her buttons all night. Felix and Allison laughed. Harper cupped a hand over her mouth, giggling. “It’s not funny,” Caitlin snapped, giving them all an angry glare.
They laughed harder.
“It’s not funny!” Caitlin shouted. “I’m a lifetime member of the League for the Humane Treatment of Animals, and we did a tour of one. I thought I could handle it. But I couldn’t. The smell nearly killed me. It’s the cruelest, most despicable thing you could ever imagine. Poor helpless animals lining up to have an eight-inch bolt driven into their brains! They’re raised in the most horrible conditions, and then they’re slaughtered. And you want to know why? So you”—she poked a finger into Lucas’s chest—“can get fat eating their flesh! And you want to buy me a steak? No thanks. But don’t let that stop you. Order two. And I hope you get intestinal worms, diarrhea, heart disease and a double case of mad cow!”
Lucas drank from his plastic cup. “You lost me there with the whole humane society tour thing. Was that a yes?”
“I hate you,” Caitlin told him.
“C’mon, Little C.” Lucas reached out to give her a hug. “You know you love me.”
“No,” Caitlin replied, crinkling up her nose and swatting his arms away. “I actually hate you.”
Felix was laughing so hard he felt weak. He was at a party. He was having an awesome time. Strange. And he was aware of just how strange it was. Earlier today he’d encountered a ghost in a blue dress. And he’d thought the ghost in the blue dress was going to kill him. Then he’d gotten lost in the tunnels beneath campus and thought he was going to die down there. Then he’d been trapped in a dorm closet at Astoria and thought he was going to get caught and tossed out of school. An eventful night. But he hadn’t said a word about it to anyone. His friends still seemed to think he was sane even after what had happened—hadn’t happened—at Martha’s house, and then the very-hard-to-explain stripper streak through the dorm that had ensued. So he wasn’t going to push his luck with another insane tale—this one about chasing the ghost of Cinderella into the tunnels and through the cemetery beneath St. Rose. He’d considered ways of doing it all afternoon—keeping it to himself was really, really tough—but telling the story without sounding like he needed a room at the psych ward was beyond his abilities.
“Yes!” Lucas shouted gleefully. He was looking down at his cell phone.
“What’s up?” Felix asked him.
“Ever hear of Super-Six-Pack-Power-Protein-Plus? S-S-P-P-P-P for short.” When everyone shook their heads Lucas continued. “No? Okay—so get this: If I do ten tweets that I got my six-pack from taking S-S-P-P-P-P they’ll give me ten thousand bucks.”
“What six pack?” Caitlin teased, laughing.
“You want me to show you?” Lucas said to her, one hand tugging up on the front of his shirt.
“God no,” Caitlin gasped and made a gagging sound.
“Are you being serious?” Allison’s brows knitted together. “Ten thousand for a few tweets?”
Lucas nodded.
“That’s some serious cash,” Felix said.
“That’s twice as much as I made at the Crab Shack waitressing all last summer.” Allison tipped her cup back and drained it. “I worked twelve weeks. Double shifts. I busted my ass. Kids threw food at me. Gross old men hit on me all the time. And all you have to do is tweet?”
“I know.” Lucas grinned wide. “It’s ridiculous. Ever since I got David—that agent dude—I’ve been endorsing some random products and making pretty good money.”
“Dirk’s agent?” Felix asked.
“Yeah.” Lucas paused for a second thoughtfully. “I’m gonna tell him to tweet it. It’s ten grand. What the hell?”
“Your agent actually does the tweeting?” Allison asked. She looked disgusted.
“Yeah,” Lucas said. “His staff does, anyway. They do that and all my Facebook and Instagram stuff. I don’t have to do anything. I just give him the go ahead and his office does all the work. It’s awesome. I make money for doing absolutely nothing. One of David’s people was telling me last week if Summer Slumming gets picked up for another season, I’ll be endorsing all kinds of shit. There might even be a book deal. I won’t have to write anything. I guess someone ghost writes it for me. And she said something about an advance of some kind. Six figures. How much is that? A lot, right?”
Allison was stunned. “You’re going to write a book?”
“Hell no!” Lucas took a long drink from his cup and belched loudly. “Someone’s going to write it for me.”
“That’s completely messed up,” Allison complained. “Who’d wanna read a book about you?”
“Hell if I know.” Lucas burst out laughing. “I wouldn’t! But remember the girl on the other show? What’s her name? You know, the short dumb chick with the big hair. Cannoli? She wrote two books.”
“Capitalism’s so goddamn ridiculous sometimes,” Allison muttered, her lips pursed in anger. “If Cannoli had two brain cells the friction would make her head explode. Two books? Are you kidding me? Is she even literate? I’d bet my life she couldn’t put two coherent sentences together.”
Lucas shrugged. “If people want to throw money at me what am I supposed to do? Throw it back at them?”
“So you’re not even gonna try the S-S-P-P-P-P?” Caitlin said to him. “Did I leave out a P? How many P’s are there again?”
“Why would I do that?”
“You’ll endorse a product without even trying it?” Caitlin said incredulously, her eyes boring into Lucas. “That’s exactly what’s wrong with corporate America. Some company’s using slave labor to make this protein powder garbage, and it’s using you to sell it to kids who trust you. And you’re not even going to try it? That’s wrong, Lucas. Wrong.”
“Caitlin’s right,” Allison agreed, still bristling. “If you’re going to make money for doing nothing the least you could do is try it. How hard’s that?”
“Geez.” Lucas threw up his arms and beer slopped out of his cup. “I’m so sorry for making money. My deepest apologies to anyone who’s ever been wronged by corporate America. Like that’s my responsibility. Anything else you wanna blame me for? How about our dependence on foreign oil? I suppose that’s my fault too. Shit! But if you guys feel so strongly about it, I’ll try the goddamn powder. Here—look!” He angled his phone so everyone could see the screen while he tapped out the text. When he was done, he read it: “Yes. I’ll endorse. Please send sample to me at school.” He put the phone back in his pocket. “There. Done. Satisfied?”
Allison grunted. Caitlin made a guttural noise that sounded a lot like a growl.
Without any warning, Jonas bulled his way through the crowd and hoisted Felix onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Felix groaned and spilled half his drink on Jonas’s shirt. Jonas helicoptered him around for a while and caused a fair amount of destruction in the room before Felix was able to coax him into setting him back down on the floor. Jonas was slurring his words pretty badly, but the lifting and spinning was apparently his way of expressing his appreciation for Felix’s touchdown catch that afternoon in typhoon-like conditions (the Sturgeons had beat the Watsforde Planters in a huge upset; the upset of the year so far in t
he PNFL). But as wasted as Jonas was, Salty was faring much worse; nothing that came out of his mouth resembled any language Felix had ever heard before.
The girls went off to get refills (and to escape Jonas’s rampage) with Lucas and a girl that had been following Lucas around all night. Her name was Piper. Petite, with hair the color of copper, her skin was almost as white as the St. Rose Ghost. As Jonas and Salty mumbled something about the game, Felix kept his eyes on Harper. He wasn’t alone. Every guy in the room was doing the same thing. Felix was about to go over and say something very witty to her—he’d been rehearsing it in his head while Salty made odd grunting noises mixed in with the occasional roar of laughter—when Jonas suddenly got teary-eyed over a babysitter he still had a crush on.
So Felix finished his drink and reassured Jonas that everything would work out as the three of them stared at a group of nearly naked girls dancing on a bed. Maybe they were warm—the room had become steamy, and the window, although opened, couldn’t siphon off the massed body heat—and maybe they were just exhibitionists. Felix didn’t care; he was just enjoying the show. He couldn’t even taste the rum any more, and he knew it was brimming with the liquid fire because he’d watched Larry pour it. And in spite of the blubbering man-child crying on his shoulder, Felix felt stellar.
“Felix!” Lucas shouted at him from across the room.
Felix’s eyes drifted away from the performance on the bed. “What?” he shouted back.
“Whadya say about heading over to the Beta house?” Lucas asked.
“The what?” Felix choked out.
“I know.” Lucas crossed the room to him. “It sounds crazy. But Piper here”—he nodded at the little redhead tagging alongside him—“was saying they got something big going on ever there. And you gotta figure they have short memories, right?”
Larry came up from behind Felix and said in a voice so loud Felix jumped in surprise: “C’mon!” His curly blond head towered over everyone. “There’s some good guys over there. Just give ’em a chance. We’re out of booze, anyway. Salty—the big fat ass—just drank the last of the rum. And this room’s starting to stink. I think Salty sharted himself again.”
Salty was too wasted to defend himself—or perhaps he really had sharted himself and was trying to keep it under wraps. It would have to remain an eternal mystery because Felix wasn’t about to stick his nose up Salty’s shorts to find out.
“We’ll just go for a while,” Lucas suggested. “You know, just see if anything’s going on. I mean, what are the chances we get beat up again?”
“Pretty good,” Felix said. “I don’t… I don’t think I’m up for another Beta party. My body can’t take it.”
“I’m not feeling it,” Allison said. “Those guys suck.” She sounded drunk.
“Sorry guys,” Harper added. “I’m exhausted.”
“Fine,” Lucas said dejectedly. “You’re still in, right?” he said to Caitlin.
Caitlin glanced over at Piper and her brow creased. “I can’t let you go off by yourself after what you did the last time you were there. But you better not do anything stupid! You got it?” She slapped Lucas on the arm to make sure he was clear on the matter.
Fifteen minutes later, Felix, Allison and Harper straggled off in the direction of Downey, while Lucas, Caitlin and Piper headed off toward the Beta house with Larry, Jonas and Salty.
“Do you think they’ll be all right?” Allison asked as they got off the elevator on the third floor.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Harper turned to Felix. “What do you think?”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Then he thought about it. The worst that could happen might be pretty bad. “I asked the fatassosaurs to keep an eye on Lucas. Salty and Jonas are completely shitfaced useless, but Larry’s keeping it together. I’m sure they’ll be all right.”
They stopped in the hallway between Allison and Harper’s rooms. No one spoke.
“I’m so tired,” Allison said after a while, putting her hand over her mouth to cover a hefty yawn. “I’m totally going to sleep in until noon.” She looked quizzically at Felix, then at Harper. She stood there in front of her door. Then she yawned again, and unlocked it. “Good night,” she said without turning around, and closed the door behind her.
“I’m so glad you made this one,” Harper said. “It was so much more fun than last night.”
Felix was wondering if everything was all right with Allison. She seemed upset about something. Then he saw Harper’s face and forgot all about it. She was smiling at him. He stared at her, not sure what to say, lost in her blue eyes. “Uh… yeah. I had a good time.”
“You know,” Harper began, then her smile dissolved and she lowered her gaze to the floor.
“What is it?”
“Sometimes when you have a few drinks, everything seems so clear. So obvious.” Her eyes lifted up to his face. “Doesn’t it?”
“Like…?”
“You know… it’s like… when you feel something, and then you think about what you’re feeling, and sometimes what you’re feeling is just the alcohol—or just a bad idea—but sometimes, what you’re feeling just feels… perfect.”
“That’s what you were thinking about?” Felix asked. They must have been on the same wavelength because he had no trouble understanding her. “At the party?”
She smiled, but it faded quickly. “Yeah. Even when I’m drunk, I analyze everything to death. I just feel like I have to. Because I’ve… you know… been screwed over a few times.”
“Guys?” Felix hazarded.
She nodded. “All these guys I’ve ever dated were rich, popular, good-looking and supposedly cool.” She shook her head bitterly. “But they turned out to be selfish assholes. And after a while, you know, you start to wonder if maybe all guys are just the same. I’m not there yet.” She laughed and ran her hands through her hair. “But I realized something tonight. I’m done with assholes. I want to be with a nice guy. You know—somebody who’s actually a good person. That’s what I’m looking for. That’s what I want.”
“Okay.” It came out a little squeaky.
She stared into his eyes and her lips curled up into a perfect smile. “Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are ridiculously sexy? They’re almost like ice. But I don’t feel any… coldness.”
He stared back, in awe of her beauty, feeling completely over his head as he tried to think of something to say. His tongue felt thick and clumsy, and when he couldn’t retrieve the right words, he looked down at the floor. A moment later, he looked up to find that her eyes were nearly closed.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You should probably get to bed. You look pretty tired.”
“Yeah, I guess I am. Well… um… good night. I had fun tonight.” She opened the door to her room. Then she stood there, her back turned to him, and paused like she was waiting for something. Finally she slipped in. After the door closed and he heard the click of the lock, he started up the stairs.
I should’ve made a move, Felix thought as he reached his floor. She wanted me to. Didn’t she? Didn’t she just practically invite me into her room? And what did I do? I stared at my feet like an idiot. What the hell’s wrong with me?
A girl was standing in the hallway in front of his room, leaning back against the wall, facing the door. When she saw him approach, she turned toward him and smiled. He’d never seen her before. And she wasn’t the kind of girl you would forget. Tall and skinny with a thick mane of long strawberry blonde hair, she was wearing only a white tank top, yoga shorts and black knee-high riding boots.
“Are you looking for Lucas?” he asked her.
“No,” she said. “I’m looking for you. Hi Felix.”
“Me?” he said, surprised to hear his name. “Why?” He checked her out as he walked toward his room. Sick body—no question about that. Interesting outfit too. A little underdressed for a mid-October night, but if she caught cold what did he care?
“Because,” she said
, undressing him with her dark brown eyes, “you happen to be the hottest guy in the freshman class. Even hotter than your roommate.” Her voice was velvety with droplets of smoker’s rasp.
“Thanks. I guess. I’m not sure what to do with that.”
“You can do me.” She flicked out her tongue and left it there, the tip visible for a moment, pressed between her full lips.
“Huh? Oh. Okay.” Now he was even more confused. Even if he wasn’t drunk—which he most certainly was—this situation would be extremely confusing. “Um… what’s your name?” Stupid question, but he felt awkward, and it’s all he could come up with.
“Amber.” She reached out and touched his chest, tracing her fingers down to his stomach, pausing when she got to the waistband of his jeans. “You’re as hard as a rock.”
He shivered.
“You like that, don’t you?” She lifted her eyebrows provocatively.
“I like your tattoo,” he said numbly, not sure why he’d said it. “What is it? A Tiger?”
“Yeah.” She turned her wrist over so that her palm faced up. On her inner forearm was a tattoo of a roaring tiger inked from her wrist to the hollow of her arm. Vivid, alternating black and orange stripes made up its body. Its eyes were fire red. Long ivory fangs filled its gaping mouth.
“It’s fierce,” Felix said, relieved that he was able to distract her. He wasn’t sure what was going on. Maybe if he had a few minutes to think, he could sort this out.
“Seen one like it before?” She lowered her eyes to the tattoo. “Do you know what it means?”
He shook his head.
“I’m ERA.”
“ERA? Never heard of it.”
She leaned into him and whispered in his ear: “It stands for the Evolution Revolution Army. Once you join, you can get the tattoo.” She reached around his waist and laced her hands together, wedging her thigh firmly between his legs. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of us.” She moved her leg against him, slowly, pressing, releasing, and then pressing again. “The ERA’s growing. It’s getting bigger and stronger every day.” She unclasped her hands and took a step back, her eyes flicking down to his crotch. “Just like you.” She smiled, letting the moment, and Felix’s uncomfortableness, hang in the air.
