Breaking Masks

By Josh Aterovis and Dabeagle

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Chapter 8 - Kody

Someone had finally turned the music down. It had been almost deafening when we'd arrived, even though the party hadn't even officially started yet.

I say officially, because the party was clearly already well underway for the hosts who lived in the apartment, including Nick's teammate Ethan. My man was absolutely zooted and completely useless.

At least I understood why Nick had been asked to be the cohost when he didn't even live there. He was obviously the responsible team member.

Nick was visibly annoyed, which made me feel bad for him. I helped out where I could, while Nick kept apologizing, and I assured him that it wasn't a big deal. Rinse and repeat.

We'd been among the first to arrive — at least besides those who had been invited to pregame — but by the time we'd set up the drinking game whose name I'd already forgotten and cleaned the kitchen, a few people had started trickling in. After that, the place had slowly filled up until people were scattered around the large living room milling about in clusters, talking, drinking, and laughing.

Nick then tried to teach me the drinking game, which involved a lot of fast-paced bouncing ping pong balls into cups and smacking other people's cups and drinking lukewarm beer, but I never quite got the hang of it. I just drank whatever people shoved into my hands. It was nasty, like drinking someone's morning breath saliva, but I didn't know what else to do.

Eventually, I'd begged off, but that just left me wandering around awkwardly on my own. I felt out of place, not sure how I should conduct myself at what appeared to be a very straight jock gathering. I was feeling a little conspicuous in my sartorial choices. Aside from Nick, it seemed like everyone else was wearing jerseys and baggy jeans.

Nick suddenly appeared by my side. “Come on, Kody, let's get you a drink!” he said as he took me by the hand and pulled me through the crowd.

“I've been drinking,” I protested.

“I mean a real drink, not sips of stale beer.”

“I thought you were still playing rage bait.”

“Rage cage,” he corrected. “And I was, but it was getting old, and you look like you need to loosen up a little.”

Maybe I did need to loosen up. I certainly wasn't enjoying myself.

We paused when Nick hit a traffic jam at the kitchen door, so I took the opportunity to take in the view, which wasn't much considering the colossal guy blocking most of my line of sight. He was like a pillar of solid flesh. He turned in profile, and I saw a low, heavy forehead that resembled a bulwark, complete with unibrow. His muscles rippled as he stretched his gargantuan body. Then again, everyone is huge at my height.

The man-mountain shifted, and I almost gasped.

There was Jake, turned three quarters away from me and holding a glass of something dark. His chest was outlined in a tight-fitting, dark blue polo that reminded me of a clear evening sky. He began to turn in my direction, but Nick started moving again at that point, and I was tugged away into the kitchen.

“Screwdriver?” Nick asked as we reached the counter.

“I'm not all that mechanical,” I replied.

He smiled and mouthed 'smart ass' at me before pouring a drink that looked like it was mostly orange juice with a generous splash of something clear. He handed it to me with a flourish, and I sipped it carefully.

“Hey! This isn't bad!”

“Would I steer you wrong?”

I began to drink it a bit more quickly while Nick pointed out a few teammates and told me a little about them — small talk really. I tuned most of it out. I didn't really care.

Just then, yet another one of his teammates appeared and dragged him away for one more game of caged rage or whatever they called it. How many teammates did he have, anyway?

I glanced down and realized that my drink was almost empty...and it tasted like a second.

What had he put in it?

“Hey, how do you make a screwdriver?” I asked a girl who was pouring a healthy amount of dark rum into a cup of Coke. She looked like she knew how to make a drink.

She gave me a look like I was stupid. “It's just vodka and orange juice.”

That didn't sound hard. In fact, it sounded almost healthy.

I grabbed the carton of OJ and poured some into my cup, then added a splash of vodka. I thought about it, and added a few more glugs.

I was on my third — or was it my fourth? — drink, when Nick rejoined me.

“Have you even left the kitchen?” he asked, then noticed the half-full drink in my hand. “Jesus. Are you still working on that drink I made you?”

I shrugged. I didn't want to admit how many drinks I'd had.

“If you don't like it, just say so. Here, I'll make you something even better. It's called a Long Island Iced Tea.”

I watched him start pouring a bunch of liquors into a cup, then finish it off with a splash of Coke. Not a drop of iced tea to be found, but I was in no shape to complain.

He handed it to me, and I took a healthy slurp. Boy, was that good too!

Nick snorted. “Attaboy! Double fisting. Now you're officially a college student.”

I thought that had become official when I'd gotten my acceptance letter, but I just nodded happily and giggled. Double fisting sounded dirty.

At some point, I realized that Nick was gone again and felt a little confused. I wondered if I’d bored him or something.

“People come and go so quickly around here,” I mumbled.

“What?” some guy yelled in my face. His breath smelled like pizza.

Mmm. I wanted pizza. Was there pizza here?

I turned, and my vision swam. Some guy who looked like someone had used a filter to put a tiny face on a big head was laughing in front of me. His mouth looked impossibly large, as if it could swallow planetary systems or something.

I began to giggle again, which made me lose my balance somewhat. I placed a hand on the counter to steady myself.

I spotted Jake through a break in the sea of people. He was leaning against the wall in the living room, looking extremely bored. I decided to be social and go say hello to him. We hadn't talked since that tragic day in the coffee shop, but I was feeling bold, filled with liquid courage. I'd already completely humiliated myself in front of him. What was the worst that could happen?

I giggled to myself and released my death grip on the counter. I took a few unsteady steps toward the door, which somehow suddenly seemed much too far away.

Wait... This might be more difficult than I thought.

I wobbled a bit more, then stopped altogether. I grabbed the door frame while I waited for the room to stop spinning.

Wow, those drinks hit me fast. Who would have thought? It was only four drinks. Or was it six? Who's counting?

I looked up and watched Jake from across the room, his arms crossed over his chest. That hulking figure from earlier stood a couple feet from him. I suddenly got the image of this guy on a leash moving in a precise two-foot radius around Jake like the world's largest puppy.

I began to giggle again and inhaled deeply as I tried to catch my breath, but Jake slowly straightened up as some blonde girl stopped to talk to him. The Hulk hovered just at the edge of his invisible leash.

The girl was looking intently at Jake and speaking to him.

I hated that. I hated her.

Seeing him at the party almost felt like some divine plan peeking through for a moment. Then there's some girl to ruin it all and remind me that he's straight.

God! I came here to forget him!

The stereo volume bumped up a couple of notches, and a familiar song came on. Bump, bump, bump, then some words...

Oh! It was one of my favorite songs!

Okay, I can get into this!

I pushed into the room and began to dance a bit on my own, just swaying in place at first. I’m not much of a dancer, usually opting to watch others instead. But for some reason, I was feeling freer than I'd ever felt before.

I kind of lost track of time — eyes closed, just letting the music flow through me — until mocking laughter broke through my little bubble. I ignored it, since it couldn't possibly be about me. I was just minding my own business, doing my thang. I just kept dancing, mumbling the lyrics to myself, or as much as I remembered of them anyway. I'm sure they were almost all wrong, but who cares?

I spun on my own, oblivious to my surroundings. I was fluid, twirling, feeling the air as it flowed across my skin. The song shifted into the bridge, a much quieter part, but I danced all the more.

“Lookit the little fag dance!” a voice rang out loud enough to be heard over the music.

I opened my eyes. The first thing I noticed was that the blonde chick who'd been talking to Jake was now dancing with me. Well, in my general area anyway. Maybe we'd start a dance party. That seemed cool.

Then I remembered the voice who'd called me a fag. That was less cool.

I followed the eyes of everyone in the room, which led me right to Emperor Tiny Face. We made eye contact, and he grinned at me drunkenly, a mean glint in his gaze.

Even as sloshed as I was, I knew a bully when I saw one. I hated bullies.

Dad had always said it was best to ignore a bully.

“Go on fag. Dance till you puke,” he taunted.

Dad also said that if you couldn't ignore a bully, then you had to stand up for yourself. And I felt an overwhelming need to hit something.

People were laughing, which only fueled my anger.

It occurred to me later that they could have been laughing at the Emperor for showing what a narrow-minded moron he really was, but in the moment, it felt as though they were all laughing at me.

And it was all his fault. Maybe I needed to teach him a lesson.

I took a few steps in his direction when Nick magically appeared at his side and grabbed his arm. My roomie seemed to be trying to talk to him, but the Emperor was having none of it. He shook Nick off, then shoved him hard.

I saw my moment of opportunity while he was distracted by Nick...and I took it.

As a small guy, you don't really get the chance to administer a beat down too often, so I was strangely exhilarated. Sure, he was more than twice my size, but I was drunk, and he didn't look so tall anymore. In fact, I was sure he'd shrunk since I began to drink.

All of that went through my brain as I charged across the room. He didn't notice me until I was almost on him, and by then it was too late. I was in attack mode. I launched myself, landing on him like a small child leaping into his father's arms.

Except I was the daddy.

My surprise attack was enough to knock him off balance, and we hit the ground hard. Fortunately, he cushioned my fall.

I came up swinging, aiming for the target of his tiny face with both fists.

I dropped five or six good shots on him while he struggled to free his arms. I knew I needed to stay close or I was dead meat. My fists felt as if they were moving with Matrix-like speed, so I was quite surprised when I began moving away from ol' Jack.

Someone had grabbed me from behind and was pulling me away.

No! I wasn't finished!

I struggled to pull away. The last thing I saw was a big, meaty fist coming straight at me.

I dreamed of Jake.

I knew it was a dream because the blonde girl he was probably banging was nowhere to be seen. He was standing over me, telling someone he would take me home. I tore my eyes away from Jake's gorgeous face to see that he was talking to Nick. Was in his lap? Why was I in Nick's lap?

They were talking about me, as if I wasn't right there. Rude.

The next thing I knew, I was somehow on my feet leaning on Jake, feeling his firm body under my grip.

I was definitely dreaming.

Oh well, no need to waste the opportunity. I latched my hands around his neck and laid my head on his chest. I know, I know...it should have been his shoulder, but I'm short. This was a technically correct dream, apparently. It still felt nice. So nice.

Somehow, we teleported to the hallway, where Nick was flirting with Jake. I think I bared my teeth at him, but I wasn't sure. I'd kill him later. After a nap. I couldn't keep my eyes open...

The next thing I knew, we were back on campus, and Jake was asking me where my dorm was. This dream was really getting good. If only I could hold on to it.

I told him, I think, then time jumped again, and we were standing in front of my building. He wanted my key. I giggled. All he had to do was ask.

At some point, I think I asked if he was flirting with me, but I don't remember what he said.

He reached into my pocket, and it felt so real.

I squirmed under his touch, grinding my crotch against him. It was amazing how real it felt, from the firmness of his body to the smoothness of his skin. Even the clean, fresh smell where my nose met his neck was perfect.

I had a mad urge to lick him.

And then we were in my room. He asked me where my bedroom was. I pointed, not wanting to relinquish my hold on him. The dream had to be followed to its logical conclusion.

Maybe it would be a wet dream.

We lurched into the bedroom, where he flipped the light on and then told me to get into bed. I happily complied, dragging him down with me.

He looked in my eyes and seemed to be breathing heavily. Maybe it was from supporting me during this dream, but maybe it was from wanting me. I decided it was from desire. It was my dream, after all.

“Kody, I should go,” he said.

“No,” I said, trying my best to pout in an appealingly cute manner. “Stay.”

I looked up at him, my dream already fading as exhaustion claimed me. I looked into his beautiful blue eyes. They were clear and bright, so blue they could have been cut from the sky itself.

I wanted to say sweet things. I wanted to sing to him. I wanted to kiss him.

I think maybe I tried, but the dream got fuzzy from there. I must have fallen into a deeper sleep, because if I kissed him, I would have desperately wanted to remember that...

When I woke up, the sun was streaming through my window. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and my head felt like there were seventy-six trombones playing inside.

Oh, God. I would never be able to watch The Music Man again.

I rolled out of bed and instantly regretted it. Could you die from a hangover? If so, I welcomed death's sweet release.

My stomach lurched, and I stumbled from my room to the bathroom to pray to the porcelain god in the time-honored tradition of college students everywhere.

I had to admit, I felt better after emptying the contents of my stomach. It was mostly liquid, which reminded me that I'd skipped dinner the night before, which probably hadn't helped with my level of inebriation.

After showering, I felt almost human again.

Back in my room to dress, the clock reported it was now twelve-thirty-six. I dressed in sweats and a tee shirt with the VRU Red Rooster on the front. He was doing something obnoxious. All the shirts had something suggestive on them, which was funny sometimes, but not at the moment.

My stomach rolled over, and I couldn't decipher if I was nauseated or hungry. Both? Was that a thing?

I needed coffee...and maybe a small scone.

I decided to see if Nick wanted to go with me, the least I could do after making a scene at his friend’s party. I knocked on his bedroom door but got no answer. I could hear his white noise machine running, and that was only on when he was sleeping, so I knew he had to be in there.

I knocked again, but harder, which finally elicited a muffled response that sounded like an annoyed, “What?”

The door opened, and I stood there trying not to laugh. Nick was sporting some very aggressive bedhead. His green eyes were somewhat bleary, and it was obvious I'd woken him up.

“Um, morning. Or, uh, afternoon, I guess. Just wanted to see if you wanted to go with me to get coffee?” I asked while carefully schooling my features to neutrality. “My treat.”

“Coffee? Sounds good,” he grunted, reminding me of a cartoon caveman. “Shower first.”

I sat down on our couch to wait, sipping water and hoping like hell my head would calm down after I got a small amount of food in me.

Nick emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam wearing nothing but a towel and a blank stare. He went into his bedroom and returned a few minutes later, looking much better and dressed in the same relaxed fashion as me.

“So, uh, how was the party after I left?” I asked.

“You mean after you were dragged out nearly unconscious?' He chuckled a little while my cheeks warmed up. “Things definitely calmed down after your little brawl.” He shook his head. “I never would have pictured it, but I think if I hadn't pulled you off of him, you might have inflicted some serious damage.”

My cheeks were growing steadily hotter. “Oh God. I am so sorry. I'm so embarrassed. I usually don't drink,” I replied.

He smirked. “Yeah, your friend Jakie thought that might be the case.”

“Jakie?” I repeated, aghast.

“That's what you called him.”

“What? I didn't really say that, did I?”

His grin grew wider. “Yep, you sure did...right before you tried to crawl into his skin.”

Why did this all seem vaguely familiar?

“I didn't... He didn't hear me, did he?”

“Well, I gotta be honest with you, Kode. I think he might have, since he was trying to get you up off the floor at the time, and you were latched around his neck like he was the last life ring on the Titanic.”

I squeaked.

“If it helps any, he didn't seem to mind. I think he just figured you were drunk, you know? I mean, he still took you back to our dorm.”

I gaped at him in growing horror. Oh my God! Jake had been in my dorm? In my bedroom? Had I left my deranged underwear purchases where he could see them?

Then a scarier thought occurred to me. Had I really pulled him into bed with me? Did I really try to kiss him? What was a dream and what was real?

“Kody, you all right? You don't look so good.”

“I... Oh my God.”

I rushed into the bathroom where I proceeded to puke some more. I cleaned myself up, rinsed my mouth with mouthwash, and stared at myself in the mirror while contemplating my crimes.

All I could think was how uncomfortable that nice straight boy must have felt to have me, this raging homo, drunkenly pawing at him while making unwelcome passes.

Was that assault? Was I a sexual predator? I covered my face with my hands.

Nick appeared in the doorway. “Hey, Kody, chill. It's not that big a deal.”

“Yes it is,” I said from behind my fingers.

“Seriously, he seems like a nice guy. He even said he felt responsible, because the guy you jumped was his roommate.”

“Fucking hell,” I moaned. “Now I know he hates me.”

“He definitely doesn't hate you. I didn't get the impression they're all that close. I mean, he took you home, right?”

“He was just being nice,” I whined. “I'm a charity case. A pathetic drunk loser who attacked his friend unprovoked.”

“Oh, you were definitely provoked. Besides, I think he might be into you.”

I dropped my hands and stared at him, aghast. “Emperor Tiny Face is into me?”

“Emperor...? No, dummy. Jake.”

I started shaking my head, which was a mistake, since it was still pounding like an entire drumline.

“No way he's into me.”

“Don't be so sure. I mean, not just anyone will look out for someone they hardly know, you know?”

“No, I don't know.” I paused, remembering my dream, then looked at him with a squint. “Wait... Did you hit on Jake last night when we were leaving?”

“Maaaybe,” Nick admitted with a grin. “Can you blame me? He's hot, and he seems like good people. Do you know how rare that is? And it didn't seem like you guys had known each other for too long. It would be different if you guys were dating, then I wouldn't flirt...too much...except in fun.” He smiled at me, and I couldn't fault his logic. “Why? Do you like him? Should I back off?”

“What? No! Yes? Why? Is it obvious?”

He chuckled. “No, no, not at all. You know, aside from calling him Jakie. And the way you nuzzled into his throat like you were a vampire out for blood. Oh, and also, when I flirted with him, I'm pretty sure you growled.” He ticked off the reasons on his fingers.

Okay, so he had me. And I wanted to die.

“So, is Jake your boy?” he asked.

“I wish, but after last night... Wait a second! He can't like me. He's straight!” I exclaimed.

“Oh no, friend of mine. I'm pretty sure he is at least a little bent.”

“But I saw him on a date with a girl. And then there was another girl last night...”

He shrugged. “Bi erasure is so real. Anyway, can we go get coffee now?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” I said absently, my focus still firmly on Jake. “But how can you be so sure?”

“About Jake? He didn't seem to mind you being all snuggly. And he was pretty protective of you. Plus, he was flirting back a little. He even blushed. He knew the score. You have to watch people, Kody.”

“I have been watching him!” I blurted, then realizing how that sounded as Nick laughed. I clarified, “I mean, I seem to run into him everywhere. He’s really...noticeable.”

“He should put that on his dating profile. ‘Considered to be very noticeable.’”

“He really flirted with you?” I asked, as the tiny spark of hope Nick had ignited fizzled out. There was no way I could compete with a hot jock like Nick. They would look great together. Even I knew that.

“Don't worry, kiddo. He only had eyes for you. Trust me.” He threw his arm around me and steered me toward the door.

But I didn't trust him. Or I didn't believe him anyway. There was no way someone like Jake was into me. I'd been down that road too many times to let myself believe a fantasy again. I'd just get hurt again.

I didn't talk much as we crossed the quad and made our way to The Morning Rush. I trailed a few feet behind him, and thankfully, Nick left me to my swirling thoughts.

Finally, he must have grown tired of my pouting. He slowed down and waited for me to catch up.

“Relax, Kody. Whether he's gay or bi or whatever, I think he's into you. If not, no harm, no foul. He's just a nice guy who made sure you got home safely after having a little too much to drink at a party.”

“Oh God,” I moaned. I was so focused on whether or not I'd made a pass at Jake that I'd almost forgotten about starting a fight at the party. “I made such a fool of myself...”

“You're hardly the first guy to get drunk at a party.”

Yeah, but did those other guys try to kiss their knight in shining armor?

We arrived at the shop just in time to keep me from spiraling any farther. Mike was working, and he looked bored out of his skull.

“Jesus, I'm glad to see someone!” he said. “This place is so fucking dead on the weekends.”

We ordered, and while he made our drinks Mike kept up a steady stream of small talk. He was unusually chatty. I blamed the boredom. He was alone since, as he'd said, weekends were slower, and he clearly welcomed the company.

Not that he was any more interesting than usual. I definitely didn't see the attraction Max had to him, except that he was uninterested in her. I got the impression that she was into impossible relationships — that way she couldn't really get hurt.

Wait. Was I into that, too? Is that why I was obsessed with yet another straight guy? Or, according to Nick, a bi guy.

We got our drinks, which were on the house, and grabbed a table, each lost in our own thoughts.

“So what are you going to do?” Nick asked after a while.

“About Jake, you mean?”

“No, the crisis in the Middle East! Of course I mean Jake!” He laughed.

“I'd rather solve the crisis, thanks.”

He gave me an impatient look.

“I don't know. I mean, let's assume that he is bi, at least. I don't even know if he's into me.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Kody, I'm not blind. He's into you.”

“Not after last night. And that's another thing. I am so embarrassed about the way I acted. I don't fight! Look at me! Kindergartners see me and think, ‘Yeah I can take him.’ On top of that...I am pretty sure I was a...romantic drunk.”

“What do you mean? You made a pass at him?”

“I...don't remember. I think...I think I pulled him into bed and tried to kiss him.”

His lips twitched. “You loose woman! You tried to kiss him?”

“Nick, I'm serious.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Did you suck his tonsils out? What do you mean ‘what’?”

“I...I don't know. It all gets blurry after that. I think I passed out.”

“You can't remember if you kissed a hot guy or not? That's it — sodas for you from now on!” Nick laughed, and I flipped him the bird.

“Nick...” I said warningly.

“Fine. Even if you did, have you seen him? You'd hardly be the first guy who threw himself at him. And who's to say he wasn't into it?”

“Right, because who isn't into sloppy drunk twinks slobbering all over you?”

“Hey, a lot of guys are definitely into that. For the sake of the argument, let's say that he is interested. What then?” He clearly wasn't going to let it go.

“That is so beyond unlikely. Besides, how am I supposed to look at him after acting like that? He'll never want to see me again!”

“You're making a lot of assumptions. For what it's worth, even if it was as bad as you seem to think, from the looks he was giving you I think it's safe to say he might be willing to forgive you.”

“What kind of looks?” I asked in spite of myself.

“Protective. Like he was staking a claim.”

“I don't know.” I looked down at my cup. I desperately wanted to believe him, but something inside just wouldn't allow me to. I think it's called life experience.

I liked Nick. I wanted to trust him. Even though I tended to place my trust in the wrong people when it came to matters of the heart, I was an okay judge of character if you left romance out. I decided to open up and explain how hopeless it was.

“I have a...history when it comes to relationships,” I started.

“Don’t we all?”

I shook my head. “No, I mean...the guys I pick are always unavailable or not interested. My romantic history is a train wreck.”

“Welcome to being a gay guy. Besides, the law of averages says you are going to find the right guy eventually, Kode.”

“Sure,” I said. “But Nick, last night was so cringe. I got smashed, picked a fight, had to be carried home, and then after all that, I'm pretty sure I tried to kiss him. No, ‘Hi! I’m interested in you. Would you like to go for coffee?’” I shook my head. “This is way beyond cringe. This is negative aura, Nick.”

“Hey, don't crash out, okay? And don't give up.”

Easy for him to say. He probably had his pick of guys.

We finished our drinks and walked back towards our dorm in relative silence while I mulled over the sordid events of the previous night. I didn't care what Nick said — I still felt foolish.

When we reached the dorm, I realized I didn’t have my dorm keycard. I spent a panicked few moments searching my pockets and wallet, but it was nowhere to be found.

“What if I lost it while I was drunk?” I wailed.

“Relax,” Nick said. “You obviously had it last night to get in the building. It's probably just in your room or something. I've got you.”

Nick let us into the lobby but stopped to talk to someone from his team who was walking through.

I headed upstairs, figuring I’d look for my card...and drink some more water. Anything to edge toward feeling more human.

I realized when I got to our door that I still couldn't get into our room and had to wait like a moron until Nick finished his conversation and caught up.

“Sorry,” he apologized as he tapped his card and opened the door.

As the door swung open, a folded piece of paper slid across the floor.

Curious, I picked it up and, as I did, my keycard fell out. I grabbed the card and shoved it in my pocket, then I unfolded the piece of paper.

It was a note, scribbled on the back of a receipt, handwritten in tiny, neat print.

Kody,

I just stopped by to see how you were feeling this morning. Also, I accidentally took your keycard back home with me. Here it is. Sorry!

Jake

Jake cared enough to check on me.

“What's that?” Nick asked, but I ignored him, floating toward my room.

I opened my door and pulled off my shirt, tossing it across the room. I sat on the edge of the bed to re-read the note.

He came to see if I was okay.

Then again, maybe he wanted to make sure I hadn't choked to death on my own vomit just to cover his ass. Let's be serious here, things never worked out for me. I was the one who was always left alone. I never got the guy.

I stared at the note until the letters began to blur. I started to crumple it, only to stop and sigh in frustration.

He cared enough to make sure I wasn't dead. Take the W.

I put the note in my pocket, not sure exactly why. Maybe as a solid reminder that there might be more to this than I thought, that maybe — just maybe — Nick was right.

No, I reminded myself. Don't read too much into it. He's just a nice guy. Who likes girls. With big boobs.

Just then, Nick appeared in my doorway.

“What’s up?” he asked, standing over me.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re sitting there, half naked — thank you, by the way — looking like you hurt your brain thinking too hard.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I am thinking too hard.”

Nick’s phone chimed, and he ignored it.

I’d heard the sound before, though, and it gave me an idea. “I think I need to find a guy or something.”

“Or something?”

I nodded, feeling more confident. “Yeah.” I pulled my leg up as I looked at Nick. “I obviously can’t realistically think there is anything there with Jake.”

“Do you just ignore everything I say?”

I widened my eyes and blew out a breath. “I try my best. Look, I have had an all-time greatest hits of me being me ever since I first ran into him. I can’t form a coherent sentence when he's around, which everyone knows is really attractive. I saw him at the bookstore and froze in place like a scared possum. When I'm not playing dead, I turn into a colossal klutz whenever I see him. One time, I dropped my coffee. Another time, I almost scalded myself to death on the espresso machine. Then when he tried to help me, I ran off like a total idiot.”

“Uh...”

“Oh, it gets better!” I said, giving him my biggest, brightest fake smile, mentally giving myself permission to leave out the underwear purchase. Nobody ever needed to know about that.

“Kody...”

“Let me cook. I'm just getting started. Because then you drag me to a party where I get white-girl wasted, mostly because I don’t drink much but also because I weigh a whopping one hundred and twenty pounds fully clothed with my shoes on.”

“So this is somehow my fault now?”

“You did make me drinks.”

“Two. I made you two drinks.”

“I'm little!” I yelled, gesturing at my body.

“Touché,” he conceded.

“Granted, I made a few more while I was left unattended. But that's beside the point.”

“Uh, no, I think that's an important point...”

“Anyway! While I’m basically incapacitated, I make a mortifyingly clumsy pass at him and, I think, I'm pretty sure, I practically felt him up. Not to mention I tried to shove my tongue in his mouth. So let’s be honest, Nick, okay?”

“Um...”

“That’s not an attractive look. Can we agree on that?”

“Well, I mean...situationally, it could be hot,” he hedged.

I sighed. “No. It's not. And you know it. I’m beyond humiliated, okay? I am deeply ashamed. I look like a colossal fuck up.”

“You sound like someone with a crush who’s overthinking everything they do when they are around their crush,” Nick said.

I turned my gaze from him and picked at the knee of my joggers. “I just don’t think I’ve done anything that would make him believe I'm anything other than a child who is definitely not ready for a relationship or anything remotely approaching one. If he was ever even interested in the first place. Which he wasn't. Because he's into chicks.”

He opened his mouth to argue again, but I rushed to cut him off. “And maybe, possibly, but probably not, into some guys who are not me.”

Nick flopped down next to me and his phone went off again. Once more he ignored it, letting out a sigh of his own.

“Look, I guess I can see why you feel like you do. Not everyone would take it as a compliment that someone turns into a complete simp when they’re around.”

“Asshole.”

“Just stating facts here.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Then you see my point?”

“I...concede it’s a point of view. But the fact is you don’t really know anything about Jake other than he’s fucking hot.”

I decided not to mention the note Jake had left. The purpose behind it was open to interpretation. And for some reason I wanted to keep it to myself. I didn't want Nick analyzing it and trying to frame it as some grand romantic gesture. It was just a note scrawled on a receipt.

A note from Jake. My Jake. The Golden Boy.

“Okay, well that’s true,” I conceded.

“The thing is, there are plenty of hot guys. Hot is...common.” His phone went off again. “Like this guy pinging me on Grindr right now. He’s hot, but I know who he is, and who he is isn’t hot. He's a major douche.”

“So...can’t you block him or something?”

“I could. I have before. But he just makes a new profile. Besides, I like letting him waste his time trying to get me to hook up.”

I grinned at him. “You’re evil.”

“Situationally,” he agreed. “Have you ever used Grindr?”

“Not really. Charlie downloaded it on my phone when he set it up for me. A joke, mostly.”

“Well, you could try it out. That's one way to meet guys. The thing is, you won’t know any more about those guys than you do Jake.”

“I'll know they're gay since they're on a gay dating app.”

“Eh.”

“Well, I haven’t done anything humiliating in front of any of them. Yet.”

Nick bit his lip for a second then nodded. “Okay. Let’s set up a profile.”

We spent the next fifteen minutes setting up my account.

Nick made me pose for a couple of photos, but he wouldn't let me put my shirt back on.

“Trust me,” he said. “You'll get a lot more attention this way.”

“Yeah, but is it the kind of attention I want?”

Nick sat my phone down. “What do you want?”

“Uh, a guy?”

“Okay, but what are you looking for? I'm not just asking philosophically. It's a question on your profile. What are you looking for? Hookups? Dates? Friends? Chat? Attention isn't an option. Neither is humiliation. I know that's your kink, but there are other apps for that...”

“Very funny. I don't want a hookup. I guess maybe dates? Friends are fine. I could use a better one than you.”

“Good luck with that,” he said, picking my phone back up. “I'm the best friend you'll ever have. Unlock your phone. We're almost done. We just need to figure out what your profile should say. How about 'Simp seeking dom top?'”

I crossed my eyes, wrinkled my nose, and stuck out my tongue.

“Should have gotten a photo of that,” Nick commented breezily. “Then you'd really bring them running.”

“Can't we just say I'm new here and trying to meet people?”

“Sure, if you want to be boring.”

“Truth in advertising?”

“Kody, you are anything but boring.”

He typed away on my screen for a few minutes, then handed my phone back to me.

“What do you think?”

I looked down at the screen to see my smiling face looking back at me. I had to give it to Nick, it wasn't a bad photo. My smile was a little cheesy, but then again, so was I.

I was apparently zero feet away from myself. Under that, the headline said “New to Town.” Then there were my stats and a profile that read, “Just moved to town for college. Looking for nice guys to show me the sights. Dates and friends welcome.”

I shrugged. “I guess that's fine.” I let out a nervous sigh, suddenly having second thoughts. “Maybe no one will notice me.”

“Oh, they’ll notice,” Nick said with a laugh. “You're fresh meat, and you're a cute little twink.”

I flushed, but secretly enjoyed the compliment.

The Grindr notification sound chirped, and I instinctively glanced at Nick's phone.

“Oh no,” he said. “That was all you. Someone messaged you already. Come on, let’s see what you have here.” Nick leaned in closer to me as I brought up the message. “You into older guys?”

The guy in the photo looked older than my dad.

“I…don’t think so?”

The phone dinged again.

“Well. He likes you.” Nick grinned at me.

I shook my head. “What do I say? I don’t want to be a jerk.”

“Part of putting yourself out there like this is rejection. You don’t have to be interested, but if you talk to them, they might think you are. Just keep that in mind.”

“So what? I just ignore them?”

“Sometimes that works. Sometimes they don't get the hint and you have to block them. Or you can be like me and mess with them.”

The phone dinged a third time and I frowned. “Is this for real?”

“What’s he saying?”

“He’s saying...he’ll do things like get me beer and weed if I come over. Is he...”

“Yep. I get those sometimes. It’s all about the tradeoff for some guys. That does remind me though, watch out for the druggies. Weed is one thing, but some guys are doing stuff like molly. Or worse. I try to avoid them. Seen too many crash outs. And if someone says they like to party with the T capitalized, avoid at all costs.”

“Why? What's that mean?”

“It means they're into Tina.”

I stared at him blankly. “Like...Tina Belcher?”

“No, you sweet angel child. Like crystal meth.”

“Oh.” I glanced back down at the phone. “I don’t want to trade this guy for anything. I don’t want to trade with anyone.”

The phone dinged again.

“Oh, new message. This guy wants feet pics. You into that?”

“Pictures of my feet? I don’t think so.”

“What about Jake’s feet?”

“I...don’t think I’m into feet.”

“Good to know,” Nick said. “You kind of have to get an idea about what you’re into.”

My phone dinged a few more times. I read another message asking if I was a top or bottom, another asking if I could host. A third asked if I could come to them as they had an ankle monitor.

“Half of these guys don't even have face pictures,” I complained.

“Welcome to Grindr, home of the headless torsos.”

“But how am I supposed to know if I want to meet them if I don't even know what they look like?”

“Gee, Kody...shallow much?”

I glared at him, and he laughed.

“Some of them will send a face pic if you ask. Be wary of anyone who won't. Either way, they're probably just DL. That means down low.”

“I know what that means. I'm not that innocent.”

“Whatever, Britney Spears. Also, watch out for the AI bots. There are a lot of them these days.”

“How can you tell if someone is a bot?”

“You can't really. At least not at first. After a while, it becomes obvious. They usually try to get you to switch to another app, like Telegram or WhatsApp.”

“What do they get out of it?”

He shrugged. “Scams and extortion.”

“This is...a lot.” I closed the app and looked at Nick. “I think I'm just going to go read for a while.”

He raised an eyebrow as my phone chirped again. I turned the volume off.

“It is a steep learning curve,” he admitted. “But if you have any questions, just let me know. I'll be your Grindr Guru. You'll get the hang of it.”

“I'm not even sure I want to.”

“Too much too soon?”

I stood and started for my room. “Something like that.”

Truthfully, all the attention was flattering, but it was also overwhelming. And none of them were Jake.

As crazy as it sounds, Nick had given me a little spark of hope with his insistence that Jake was into me. How was I supposed to find a faceless profile interesting when Jake was right there?

I threw myself across my bed and grabbed a book. I tried to focus my attention on the story, but every once in a while, I picked up my phone to see I had a couple more notifications from Grindr. I ignored them. Maybe I'd check them later.

Or maybe not.

Around dinner time, Nick talked me into going to the Commons with him, then we watched some TV together until I decided to call it a night. I was tired from my antics the night before and my churning thoughts from the day.

As exhausted as I was, though, sleep was slow to come. My brain just wanted to focus on replaying all my embarrassing moments from the night before in agonizing slow motion. The harder I tried to ignore them, the more insistent they were.

Then my thoughts turned to my botched attempt at seducing Jake, but instead of my cringey failure, I wondered what it would have been like if he'd kissed me back. How far would we have gone?

As my mind drifted, I realized I was turning myself on, and quickly tried to distract myself, but I couldn't help wondering if my fantasies could ever be a reality.

Time would tell, as my father said.

In the meantime, my brother had left me an entire gym bag filled with lube. Might as well put it to use. Maybe it would help me sleep.

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