by Brill Harper
“I think we both know Fletch isn’t jealous. After all, he’s not being a dick to you and you’ve done more than ask me out on a date in front of him. I think he’s just freezing me out. I’ve seen guys ghost on Jenna before, but since I live here, he can’t just disappear. He’s making it loud and clear that I shouldn’t get any ideas about continuing our lessons. I just don’t know why he has to be so mean about it.”
“He’s jealous, I tell you. If he wanted to ghost, he wouldn’t be acting like a dick. He’d be even nicer than he normally is. The fact that he’s unable to stop himself from being a douche is a new one for him. You know what he’s like—the Original Boy Scout. He must be really chewed up inside if he’s showing negative feelings.”
I don’t see Fletch for the rest of the day. Looks like he found a way to ghost after all. When Jones gets to the house to pick me up, both my roommates have vacated the premises.
“You seem on edge. You okay?” Jones asks me from across the table at Applebee’s.
I know what you’re thinking, but I’m fine with Applebee’s. There aren’t a lot of middle of the road places to go for dates in our college town. A lot of greasy diners, a lot of coffee houses, a lot of fast food places—but not many date places. There’s a super nice seafood restaurant, but it’s also very expensive. Most of the students don’t go there unless it’s during family weekends and your parents take you. And pay.
Applebee’s is fine.
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m just nervous. I haven’t dated much.” Ever. “I don’t mean to be weird about it.”
“I’ll be honest, I don’t date much either. I’m kind of nervous too. Most of the time, I just see girls at parties.”
Code for “most of the time I just hook up with girls.” I get it. But I guess I should be flattered he’s making an effort, right?
“The party we met at was my first college party,” I tell him. “I’m probably too serious.”
“It’s cool, though. I guess I’m starting to get more serious about stuff, too.”
He seems very earnest and sweet. I wish I was all-in on this. I keep trying, but my mind wanders to the kitchen this morning. Maybe I’m just wary of getting my feelings hurt again. I really didn’t think Fletch would be so cold to me. Ever. Logically, I knew the tutoring sessions were not a forever thing, but I thought we would be able to maintain civil friendships. Maybe once I’m in a real relationship, Fletch will ease up since he won’t have to push me away anymore.
But it hurts.
“So, how did you end up living with two guys?”
“I had a nightmare roommate in my freshmen dorm and the guys had an empty room. Fletch is my best friend’s big brother. You met Jenna Friday night.”
“Is it weird living with dudes?”
I laugh. “You have no idea.”
After dinner, he suggests a small party.
“I don’t know. I’m not really good at parties.”
Jones buckles his seatbelt. “The only way to feel more comfortable is to keep going to them. We can leave whenever you want.”
It’s definitely a smaller gathering than the one I went to with Fletch and Shane. The commonality is that Shane is here.
But he’s with a girl.
“Little bit,” he says, bumping fists with my date and kissing my head like I’m seven. “How’s your date so far?”
Since my date is standing behind me with his hand on my lower back, I answer, “Great. Fletch here, too?”
“Nah. Haven’t seen him.” He introduces me to the cute brunette with him, and she slides her arms around his waist.
Maybe she’ll pee on him next to show me he’s her territory.
Jones grabs me a red cup of beer, and I drink from it right in front of Shane, who sort of narrows his eyes at me but doesn’t say anything. Since he didn’t bring me here tonight, I’m not his responsibility. Apparently, Jones doesn’t subscribe to the theory of watching your date’s drink closely.
I feel like such a rebel.
Jones gets called to beer pong, a theme that seems recurring from the first party we went to, so I wander around the house until I find a dog in the kitchen. Perfect. Dogs are much easier to socialize with than people. I spend about twenty minutes with the dog, whose tag says his name is Hairy. When I go to find Jones later, he’s under a beer bong.
Perfect. He’s def not driving me home. That’s when I see Shane and his friend Nina going up the stairs together.
All the things I’m not supposed to feel are bubbling inside me in a frothy boil of emotion I don’t want. I’m not supposed to care who Shane does or doesn’t do.
My phone vibrates with a text. From Shane.
“Hey, little sis. I’m indisposed for a bit, but don’t let Jones drive you home, ok? Grab Uber. C U tomorrow.”
He’s texting me little sister messages before his has sex with another girl.
What am I even doing?
I find Jones to tell him goodbye. He protests, but his eyes are red, and he’s not really fighting it. I order a ride and try to chill the whole way home. Shane is just being Shane. He was still very sweetly looking out for me, even as he was about to get with someone else. He’s never been anything but honest with me.
It’s me that has a problem. I’m reading too much into my “relationship” with the guys. It’s Fletch I’m still mad at. Fletch who hurt my feelings on purpose. Fletch who knew where I was softest, so that’s where he aimed his barb.
My inexperience with sex is far less troubling to me than my inexperience with my heart. I didn’t expect it to be so tender.
I get home to a dark house. I’m walking down the hall when I see it.
There’s a sock on Fletch’s doorknob.
He’s got a woman in there with him.
My phone vibrates again. This time it’s Jenna. “How is the date? I want all the deets tomorrow.”
My eyes are a little blurry as I plop onto my bed and answer her. “Great. Everything is great. We’ll probably go out again next weekend.”
Quietly, so as not to disturb the sex-fest happening in Fletch’s room, I pull a cardboard box out of my closet.
I’ll be gone in the morning.
Chapter Twelve
Six hours later, I’m carefully stacking a cardboard box on top of another on the porch, trying not to wake my roommates up. I don’t have a lot of stuff, still. I haven’t exactly been accumulating things since the house was furnished when I moved in.
I creep back in and find Shane standing in the middle of the room yawning. My pulse races, first from the scare, and then from that deep vee leading into the low waistband of his sweatpants.
“Shane, you scared me.”
He finishes his yawn and shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it. His bedhead is distracting. My fingers itch to tousle the blond locks even more.
“What are you doing outside, little bit?”
“Nothing,” I answer brightly. Too brightly. Like I’m auditioning for cheer team. I’m not very good at subterfuge.
Fletch stumbles out of his room. “What are you guys doing up so early?”
I notice the sock is gone, but I never heard anyone leave, and I was up most of the night. Is she still in there? Did he cuddle her into the wee hours of the morning? Does he like to cuddle?
I would not be surprised if my skin is turning green right now. I have got to stop this.
“Little bit is up to something,” Shane says around another yawn. “I sensed a disturbance in the force.”
“Maybe I was going for a walk.”
They look at each other and discount my story.
“Fine. I was packing. Sorry if I woke you up.”
“Packing?” Shane seems suddenly very awake. “Where are you going?”
Fletch narrows his eyes at me. “Wow, your date must have gone pretty well. Moving in with him already?”
“Dude, what the fuck crawled up your butt?” Shane asks.
My lack of sleep and abundance of s
tomach acid combine in a dangerous combination. “Yes, Fletch. In fact, we’re getting married. We’re going to quit school and get jobs and start shooting out little Joneses as soon as possible.”
“I hope they don’t get his neck,” Shane mutters.
I glare at him and then return my glare where it belongs—on Fletch and his shirtless abs and stupid pajama pants. Why is that even sexy? I’m pretty sure his dad wears those plaid pants too. Only he always wore a shirt. At least when I was around.
Fletch has his hands on his hips. That’s another thing he got from his dad. “I hope the two of you will be very happy together.”
“Maybe you can bring your new girlfriend to the wedding.”
Shane flops onto the couch, and I try to scrub any and all couch memories from my brain. “I really hate it when you guys fight. What is she talking about, dude?”
Fletch shrugs. “I have no idea.”
I point to his door. “Ask the friend who slept over last night. Maybe she knows.”
“You have a girl in there?”
“No.” “Yes,” we answer together.
“Sock on the door,” I explain to Shane.
He swings his head to Fletch. “Interesting.”
I take a deep breath. I’d like to say it is cleansing, but it really doesn’t do much for my state of mind. “Guys, I’m moving back to the dorm. I know we said we could be grown up about all this, but I am not cut out for this friends with benefits stuff. I can’t separate my feelings the way you guys can. It’s complicated enough to have the three of us doing stuff but bringing more people into it isn’t working for me.”
“So, don’t go out with Jones,” Shane says matter-of-factly. “Problem solved. Is there coffee yet?”
“It’s not just Jones.”
Shane smiles, showing his big, white teeth. “Really, little bit. Who else are you going for now?”
“I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you guys. And,” I point to the door with no sock, “whoever is in there.”
“Nobody is in there,” Fletch says quietly.
“Whoever was in there then.”
“Nobody was in there.” He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. “I put the sock on the door to make you think someone was in there, but I was alone.”
“This just got interesting as fuck,” Shane says.
“Why would you want me to think someone was in your room with you? Why were you such a jerk to me yesterday? You’ve always been such a nice guy and then yesterday you just got so mean. I don’t understand why you’re pushing me away so hard. You could have just said—”
“I was jealous.”
“Told you.”
“Shut up, Shane.” I lower myself to the couch next to him. This is all too much to contemplate before even one single cup of coffee. To Fletch, I say, “You were jealous? Of me?”
“Yes.”
“But you told me to go out with Jones.”
“Yes.”
I bring my knees up and hug them to my chest. I wish I had a notebook. I feel like I could think this out better if I could write it down. “So, you didn’t want me to go out with him.”
“Told you,” Shane mutters under his breath.
Together, Fletch and I say, “Shut up, Shane.”
Which makes the three of us laugh, breaking some of the tension. Which is good. It’s not gone, but it’s less and I can breathe. And think. About how much I don’t understand. “In addition to sex, I think I have a lot to learn about guys in general.”
I hear Shane’s alarm clock go off in his room. “Fuck, I have an early class today.”
He gets up to go turn it off, and Fletch and I stare at each other.
“So, the friends with benefits thing isn’t working very well for you, either, I guess.”
He shakes his head. “It looks good on paper, but I don’t like the thought of some other guy touching you.”
“Except Shane.”
“Yeah. I know. It doesn’t make sense.”
It doesn’t. None of this does. I wish it didn’t have to. I wish I was the kind of person who could go with the flow and not have to understand how the mechanisms under the hood work. “Shane hooked up with some girl named Nina last night.”
“No, I didn’t.” Shane says from the doorway of his room.
“I saw you go upstairs with her at the party.”
“She was feeling sick. I made sure she could puke in peace and then made sure she got home safe. I had freshman orientation once too, Pen. You don’t leave girls who might pass out alone to fend for themselves at a party. Too many assholes.” He stops before going into the kitchen. “Were you jealous of me, too?”
I nod.
“Huh.” The intrigued expression on his face says he wasn’t expecting that.
Neither was I.
“I don’t want you to move, Penelope,” Fletch says.
“Talk loud so I can hear you. I need to start some java,” Shane yells from the kitchen.
Fletch sits next to me on the couch. “Just stay. Even if we stop the friends with benefits thing. Stay.”
“Fletch—”
Shane returns from the kitchen. “Why don’t we agree to not fuck anyone else while we figure this out?”
Fletch and I look at each other with twin surprised expressions. Shane is not exactly the monogamous kind. Though this isn’t exactly monogamy, is it?
“Geez, you guys. You act like I’m some kind of manslut.” He bows with a flourish. “Thank you. But aside from that, I’m serious. We don’t have to have a relationship with I love yous and shit. We can just fuck and hang out, and by not bringing anyone else into the mix, neither one of you will get all pissy. I really do hate it when you fight.”
“What if...”
“We’ll keep it open-ended,” Shane says. “if one of us wants to see someone else, we talk about the best way to end it without fighting and moving.”
“You guys are used to a different kind of ...girl. What if I’m not...enough?”
“The fact that we’re sitting here trying to convince you isn’t enough?” Fletch says. “Okay, superbrain, let’s try to appeal to your logic. First, we like you. You’re funny and smart and you have no idea how appealing you are. Second, it’s hot that you’re so into experimenting. This is new to us, too, threesomes.”
“Technically, I’ve had a threesome before,” Shane admits. “And it was nowhere near as hot as what the three of us have been up to.”
“When did you—?”
“Last year. Two girls. But it was kind of awkward and not nearly as sexy as I thought it would be. I think they are still together, though, so it wasn’t all for naught. Maybe they’ll have me do a toast at their wedding someday, since I was instrumental in getting them together.”
Sometimes, Shane is so very Shane.
“Why was it awkward?” I ask, curious now.
He shrugs. “I didn’t click with them, I guess. Chemistry was off. It’s just different with you guys.”
“And you’re okay with keeping it in your pants when we’re not home?” Fletch asks.
“I won’t have sex with anyone else, but I’m not committing to the three of us not doing the nasty outside the house. I’d like to take Velma to a dark theater sometime for starters.”
Oh, public sex. That might be interesting. Wait, what am I thinking? I’m supposed to be putting an end to this.
He leaves us with that thought and returns to the kitchen to procure caffeine.
Fletch puts his arm around me. “I’m sorry I was such a dick. Forgive me?”
“I hate it when we fight in front of Shane,” I say, and he laughs. “What about Jenna? I hate lying to her.”
“I’m not ready to tell my sister about my sex life. Do you think you can hold out?”
I nod and Fletch goes outside and retrieves my boxes, and Shane brings me a cup of coffee. They really are both very sweet when they want to be.
“So, we are keeping this just between us,
” Shane says. “I heard you guys say you don’t want Jenna to know.”
“I hate lying to her. She’s my best friend.”
“Yeah, it would suck if I had to lie to Fletcher. Maybe you should tell her.”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
It’s not like this will last for very long. We’ve barely just begun, and we’ve almost broken it off a couple times already.
But I keep thinking about Fletch being jealous. Of me. How crazy is that? Especially when I consider that he’s not in the least bit jealous of me being with Shane.
I curl into the corner of the couch and watch as Fletch does some pull-ups on the doorjamb and Shane ducks into the bathroom wearing his tighty-whities and a towel around his neck.
I do have a lot to learn about guys, and I start thinking maybe figuring them out is going to be even more fun than quadratic equations.
Chapter Thirteen
The weather turned today. Autumn came overnight, and all day has been dark and gloomy. It’s the kind of weather that drives you indoors, and when you have two totally hot roommates, being indoors is not a bad place to be. Just after dinner, the wind kicked up and brought hail and rain with it. I can’t even imagine how much it would suck to still live in that tiny room with Sami. Be trapped in there where it was spookier than the storm outside.
I just finish putting on my sleep cami and pajama pants when a gust of wind howls against my window, and then I hear a transformer pop down the street. The power lurches on and off a few times, and then everything goes dark.
This is the first time I’ve ever not been at my parents’ when the power goes out. The dark is unnerving. I hadn’t realized how, even at night, my chargers and laptop emit light. I blink a few times, wondering if my eyes will get used to it. Branches scrape across the side of the house, and I realize I’m kind of freaking the fuck out. Every scary movie I’ve ever seen begins this way. I find my phone in the blankets and use it as a flashlight to find my way out of my room. In the living room, Shane is lighting candles.
Everywhere.
“Wow,” I say, looking around. “This is amazing. Where are all these candles from?”