“Wait. That’s Wrigley Field.” Ethan pointed to a stadium in the top row.
“One point.” Cameron wrote it in. He tapped the pencil against the table as silence overtook their team.
Ethan said his usual refrain: “We’ll get ‘em next week!”
They all continued drinking their beers.
“So, Cameron,” Ethan said, pointing at him with his beer bottle. “I may have seen you leave Dean’s party with that cute guy. Are you going to see him again?”
Cameron understood that being the lone single guy in his group of friends opened his romantic life up for scrutiny. He thought of Sleeping Beauty resting in his bed as if it were a lazy Sunday. Before he could respond, Henry laughed loudly.
“Ha!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means a big, fat Greek no,” Henry said, almost defiantly.
“You don’t know that,” Ethan said. “You guys seemed to be hitting it off.”
“That’s just flirting. I’m guessing you gave him the Puritan speech.” Henry looked at Cameron, waiting for an answer.
“It’s a good speech,” he answered.
“Ha!”
“What’s the Puritan speech?” Ethan asked.
“It’s what Cameron says to all of his flings. Basically, if you exchange phone numbers after having sex, then the Puritans win. Or something like that. Seriously, Cameron. I’ve heard you recite the damn thing enough times. It’s a good thing you’re in that screenwriting class because you need some new dialogue.”
Cameron gave his roommate the finger. “The guy slept in my bed until almost noon. I got showered and dressed and he was still there! Plus, he shaved everything down there. I have razor burn.”
“And how is that different from the guy whose fingernails were too long? Or the guy with a pimple on his forehead? Or the guy who put ketchup in his spaghetti? Or the guy whose laugh was too loud?”
“Those are all valid reasons. They demonstrate serious character flaws.”
“Maybe those guys just weren’t the one,” Ethan said.
“Cameron’s not looking for the one, just one night.”
“False!” Cameron laughed off Henry’s comment, though it stung somewhere deep down. “I’m not about one-night stands. I just don’t see the point in tying myself into a relationship during the prime of my life. I’m graduating in a few months. You really think it’s smart to get serious with someone right now?”
“Greg and Ethan are making it work.”
Ethan blushed from being in the hot seat. His boyfriend Greg was applying to special-ed teaching jobs in the Northeast, and Ethan had his sights set on Harvard Law School. So yes, they were making it work. And good for them, Cameron thought. But he didn’t want to be tethered to someone in that way. He had the energy and excitement of a pinball, and he wanted the freedom to bounce around.
“I’m moving to Los Angeles in T-minus five months, as soon as our lease is up. Now is not the time to find a boyfriend.”
“What about your first three years at Browerton?” Henry asked.
“College is supposed to be fun! I grew up surrounded by straight jocks in Ohio. Excuse me for wanting to indulge.” People at Browerton were crazed about finding a significant other. They all wanted that college sweetheart story to tell their kids. Cameron’s parents were college sweethearts, and that did not go so well. “Let me guess. You think because I choose to hook up with guys, that means I’m secretly unhappy with my life. Not the case. I love my life. And let’s not forget about all the people who are miserable in relationships.”
Henry grit his teeth. Even Cameron’s blood pressure climbed thinking about Henry’s terrible ex-boyfriend. Luckily, his current boyfriend Nolan was a great guy, and that was all in the past. But Cameron knew that Henry let himself get in that situation because he kept telling himself the same crap he’s telling Cameron now.
“What happened to that actor I tried setting you up with?” Henry asked. “You hooked up with him and then didn’t call.”
“Because he was an actor! I refused to let myself suffer through his improv showcases.”
“Another excuse. Another reason to run,” Henry said.
