I tap my phone against my knee. I’m not boring. I’ve been busy.
Come to mine on Friday. Bring alcohol and friends.
Party on!
I put my phone away and turn my attention back to Casey. He’s still staring out the window and hasn’t touched his glass of water.
“Are you okay?”
“Don’t bring wine.”
I arch an eyebrow. Does his response mean he doesn’t like Emory?
“One glass makes Em tipsy. Two makes him feel sick.” His voice is quiet and distant.
“No wine. Got it. Anything else I should know?”
He glances at me, sighs, and then shakes his head. Does he know his best friend hasn’t had a first kiss yet? If he does, he’s not telling me, which makes him a good guy in my book.
“Emory said you’re on the university swimming team.”
“Yes.”
“He mentioned there were three teams, and you’re on the top one?”
He nods.
“You must be pretty good. I bet you get to hang out with some fit women.”
He furrows his brow.
“And some fit guys. Have you dated any of your teammates?”
“No.”
“Is that a rule?”
“No. Em likes you.”
“I hope so.” My stomach flip-flops. “I like him too.” Did I admit that out loud? Does that make it truer than it was a few seconds ago?
“I need to go. Thanks for the drink.”
A drink he hasn’t touched.
I take my phone out of my pocket. “Let me order you a taxi.”
He waves his hand. “There’s no need. I’ll get there in time.”
“You’re sure?”
He taps the table. “Auggie.”
“Yeah?”
“I mean it. Don’t hurt him. He doesn’t deserve to be messed around.” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks.
“I won’t.”
