made no verbal response, but the two stared at each other for some time.
“What about Ryan?” I whispered to Ellie.
“He’s a laxer.” She glared, but I thought I detected a hint of dejection.
Phil’s attention was diverted by his phone. In response to a text message, he turned around and pulled us off the barrel, almost pushing us out into the back alley where people were dispersing fairly rapidly.
“Can you guys go wait in Continental?” Continental was a bar next door.
“What about my money?” Ellie asked.
Phil grunted, texted someone a message, and then replied, “Someone will bring it to ya at the Continental.”
Ellie nodded before I could formulate a response and dragged me off. Inside, we found a table at the back of the bar and sat down with our drinks.
“How long are you thinking of staying?” I asked.
“What? Until closing time.” Ellie looked miffed.
“Really?” I was coming down off an adrenaline high and wondered what exactly I was doing wearing Bo’s sweatshirt and ostensibly waiting for Bo and his crew to come in. Reason was creeping back in and telling me to get out. Now. Sensing my agitation, Ellie grabbed my arm to keep me from fleeing.
“What’s so wrong with giving Bo a try?”
“I’m just not ready for that kind of hurt, Ellie.” I lightly shook off her grip and traced my finger in the pool of condensation formed from our beer glasses. My impulse-driven behavior in the dark of the basement seemed unwise now.
“Don’t be a fatalist. This could be amazing.”
“How?”
“You could date him, sleep with him, go back onto campus with him on your arm.”
“Like I’m a big game hunter? Do I mount the condom on my backpack?” I mocked. “Or I could sleep with him, have him blab it all over campus, thereby ensuring at least a decade more of therapy.”
“You can’t live like every guy at Central is going to run naked down the campus yelling that they’ve just bagged you.”
I shook my head slightly. “I’m not living like that. I just don’t think that the first time I take my training wheels off, I should get on a motorcycle.”
“I still think you should give Bo a try.”
“I agree.” I heard a voice behind me say. A large male hand appeared next to mine and my eyes traveled up the corded muscles to the cuff of a gray T-shirt. Bo.
I wrenched my eyes from the arm and glanced at Ellie, who just rolled her eyes at me. A rustling noise made me look around. Bo’s friends were gathering chairs and carrying a table back to us.
A number of people were following them. The little back room of Continental was soon swelling with people slapping Bo on the back if they were male or trying to sidle closer if they were female.
The guy with the inky black hair came and sat next to me, reintroducing himself as Finn O’Malley. He lived with Bo and three other guys.
He handed some cash to Ellie. “Phil told me I owed the cute chick with the braids some money.”
Ellie waved the money in front of me. “We can fund our drinking tonight.”
“Go hustle the guys at the pool table.” I laughed and pushed her toward the front where pinball machines lined the wall next to two pool tables. Turning to Finn, I asked, “So you all live together in some mansion in the suburbs?”
I was wildly curious about this infamous party house. The Woodlands parties had been going on since the summer before and were gaining near-mythic status on campus due to their exclusivity. A select few Central students, mostly girls, attended parties out there. Rumors abounded about what went on there. Some said that they hired strippers and people just had sex on the pool loungers and in the kitchen and on the dance floor. It sounded more like an underground sex club at times than a party house.
“Yeah, my dad is a developer and someone skipped out, just walked away from the house, so the guys and I finished the house with a little help and took over the mortgage.”
“That happens even in
“What about Ryan?” I whispered to Ellie.
“He’s a laxer.” She glared, but I thought I detected a hint of dejection.
Phil’s attention was diverted by his phone. In response to a text message, he turned around and pulled us off the barrel, almost pushing us out into the back alley where people were dispersing fairly rapidly.
“Can you guys go wait in Continental?” Continental was a bar next door.
“What about my money?” Ellie asked.
Phil grunted, texted someone a message, and then replied, “Someone will bring it to ya at the Continental.”
Ellie nodded before I could formulate a response and dragged me off. Inside, we found a table at the back of the bar and sat down with our drinks.
“How long are you thinking of staying?” I asked.
“What? Until closing time.” Ellie looked miffed.
“Really?” I was coming down off an adrenaline high and wondered what exactly I was doing wearing Bo’s sweatshirt and ostensibly waiting for Bo and his crew to come in. Reason was creeping back in and telling me to get out. Now. Sensing my agitation, Ellie grabbed my arm to keep me from fleeing.
“What’s so wrong with giving Bo a try?”
“I’m just not ready for that kind of hurt, Ellie.” I lightly shook off her grip and traced my finger in the pool of condensation formed from our beer glasses. My impulse-driven behavior in the dark of the basement seemed unwise now.
“Don’t be a fatalist. This could be amazing.”
“How?”
“You could date him, sleep with him, go back onto campus with him on your arm.”
“Like I’m a big game hunter? Do I mount the condom on my backpack?” I mocked. “Or I could sleep with him, have him blab it all over campus, thereby ensuring at least a decade more of therapy.”
“You can’t live like every guy at Central is going to run naked down the campus yelling that they’ve just bagged you.”
I shook my head slightly. “I’m not living like that. I just don’t think that the first time I take my training wheels off, I should get on a motorcycle.”
“I still think you should give Bo a try.”
“I agree.” I heard a voice behind me say. A large male hand appeared next to mine and my eyes traveled up the corded muscles to the cuff of a gray T-shirt. Bo.
I wrenched my eyes from the arm and glanced at Ellie, who just rolled her eyes at me. A rustling noise made me look around. Bo’s friends were gathering chairs and carrying a table back to us.
A number of people were following them. The little back room of Continental was soon swelling with people slapping Bo on the back if they were male or trying to sidle closer if they were female.
The guy with the inky black hair came and sat next to me, reintroducing himself as Finn O’Malley. He lived with Bo and three other guys.
He handed some cash to Ellie. “Phil told me I owed the cute chick with the braids some money.”
Ellie waved the money in front of me. “We can fund our drinking tonight.”
“Go hustle the guys at the pool table.” I laughed and pushed her toward the front where pinball machines lined the wall next to two pool tables. Turning to Finn, I asked, “So you all live together in some mansion in the suburbs?”
I was wildly curious about this infamous party house. The Woodlands parties had been going on since the summer before and were gaining near-mythic status on campus due to their exclusivity. A select few Central students, mostly girls, attended parties out there. Rumors abounded about what went on there. Some said that they hired strippers and people just had sex on the pool loungers and in the kitchen and on the dance floor. It sounded more like an underground sex club at times than a party house.
“Yeah, my dad is a developer and someone skipped out, just walked away from the house, so the guys and I finished the house with a little help and took over the mortgage.”
“That happens even in
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