Because here he was, alone on a Friday night, history having a good laugh at repeating itself. He wasn’t quiet or shy, he realized. He was officially boring. He’d never had a shot with Preston.
Ethan sulked down Susquehanna Avenue, passing North Campus. A cacophony of thumping bass and conversation seeped out of the quad.I could be fun, Ethan thought. He knew it was inside him; he didn’t know why he couldn’t be the same person in his head and in the real world. When something was locked away for so long, apparently you forgot the combination.
But it had to change.I have to change.
CHAPTER nine
Ethan woke up the next morning to pain. His head felt like his brain had been replaced with an anvil ready to break free of his skull. A dry coat of phlegm coated his mouth. The last remnants of jungle juice churned in his stomach. He hadn’t thought he drank that much last night. He’d had two cups of juice. Maybe three? He’d stopped counting as soon as Preston’s lips crashed onto Blake’s.
Am I hungover?
Ethan stared at his ceiling. He feared if he moved any which way, the headache and the nausea swirling inside him would get worse. He wondered how many kids across campus were waking up with hangovers this morning.
His dormmates wouldn’t let him fall back asleep. They ran through the hall as they prepared for the football game this afternoon, making plans, borrowing green face paint, devising plans to sneak in alcohol into the stadium. Were he in better condition, it would’ve sounded fun.
Since he couldn’t move, he continued staring at the white ceiling and let his mind do the wandering. The party played on a loop in his head. Why had he turned down Preston’s offer to play beer pong? Because he was boring?
Sometime later, a knock blared in his head and caused a sharp pain. He stumbled out of bed and crept to the door.Why is everyone awake at eight-thirty?
Including Jessica.
“Hey, did you want to go to Azucar for breakfast?” She was all dressed and smiling and ready to go, but then she noticed Ethan’s appearance. “Are you okay?”
He brushed his palm over his hair in a feeble attempt at freshening up. “Yeah. I just woke up.”
“You sure?” She peered closer. “Are you hungover?”
He laughed that off, which did not help his headache. “No. Just tired.”
He wasn’t sure if she believed him. She was a journalism major, after all. She was trained to spot a lie.
“Coffee will help,” she said.
And water, too. I am so freaking thirsty.
“Want to meet in the lobby in ten minutes?”
Ethan leaned against the door. Not for cool points, but to avoid collapsing into a pile of pain, dehydration, and utter exhaustion. “Can we do twenty?”
Thirty minutes later, his crew strolled through the Browerton campus en route to Azucar. They passed clumps of students decked out in lime green trekking up to the stadium. Jessica didn’t say much to Ethan. He knew how she felt about punctuality and drinking. He had a feeling her future children would either turn out to be nuns or juvenile delinquents.
Azucar was the Starbucks alternative in Duncannon, and it screamed quirk. Each wall was painted a different color, and instead of uniform tables and chairs, there was a variety of antique furniture. Ethan and his friends staked out a trio of fainting couches. Ethan sprawled out on a periwinkle chaise and left the end for Anna to squeeze onto. He was about to fall into a nap right then and there, but then he saw Preston.
With Blake.
They sat down at the empty fainting couch. Preston had on a crisp lime-green T-shirt, while Blake wore the same outfit he’d had on last night. Nausea flared up inside Ethan again, but not because of his hangover. If it wasn’t bad enough that he’d had to watch Preston and Blake make out in front of his eyes at the party, he now had to spend time with them during the day.
Preston didn’t waste any time introducing Blake to their circle of friends. Blake was a journalism student, so he knew Jessica, Dave, and Anna already. It was almost too easy. He got along with everyone. He was chatty, funny, smart. He spent part of breakfast having a heated argument with Jessica about the cancer danger involved with Sweet’N Low. And his mom’s family was from Kansas, so Anna was a fan.
The worst part for Ethan was watching Preston and Blake share small moments of affection. A lingering glance here. A handhold there. They thought nobody could see or that nobody would care. Wrong on both counts.That could’ve been me.He’d had a window of opportunity, and he’d blown it.
Ethan tore into a blueberry muffin, not realizing how hungry he was until the sweet taste hit his tongue.
“GO WHITETAILS! WOOO!!!”
Ethan jumped about five feet out of his chaise. A trio of students covered in lime-green face paint ran back out the front door. He could see them through the front window, pumping their fists in the air and dancing (or wobbling) down the sidewalk.
Jessica shook her head and heaved out a sigh, then sipped her drink.
