The revelation struck Ethan. “Preston,” he said.
Ethan remembered their conversation at the party. He’d been so excited, but it had been a total one-sided interview. No wonder Preston had let himself get pulled away by Blake. Ethan assumed people liked talking about themselves in public; he hadn’t mastered how to break the surface.
“I’m assuming things didn’t work out?” Greg asked, and Ethan thought he saw his jaw clench.
“He has a new boyfriend. They met playing beer pong.”
“You dodged a bullet,” Greg said. “Trust me. Guys who meet their significant others over beer pong usually are douchebags.”
Ethan hoped so. He couldn’t understand why Preston would want to date a guy like Blake. Preston was thoughtful and soulful and intelligent. Blake was loud. Really loud. Ethan could never compete with that.
They took a drink of their coffees, and Ethan found himself genuinely enjoying this morning. Why couldn’t he have these types of conversations with Jessica and the rest of them? He had known them longer, spent loads more time with them. Yet Ethan realized there was a barrier that he hadn’t overcome. Perhaps Greg was just really good at conversation. He could talk to anyone. Ethan and his friends were a different bunch.
“Tell me a story,” Greg said. Again, no segue, no context. But Ethan liked it. It kept him on his toes, and he appreciated that he didn’t know what would come out of Greg’s mouth next.
“What kind of story?”
“No interviews. No questions. I want to hear a story about you.” Greg laid back on the grass, and the top of his jeans sagged down, giving Ethan a nice glimpse of skin. He loved knowing what lay under those jeans.
Ethan didn’t say anything for a moment. He waited for Greg to jump to the next topic, sans segue, but it never came. He searched within himself for a story to tell, but his life wasn’t filled with many tall tales. He doubted any of them would impress Greg.
“I’m guessing you want to hear about me getting wasted, right?” Ethan said with a self-conscious chuckle.
“Tell me a story about you.” That’s all Greg said. Ethan hadn’t realized Greg could be just as annoying silent as he could while he was talking.
“I got drunk during freshman orientation week, my second night on campus. Ever. I heard about a house party from an upperclassman advisor. I drank one-and-a-half beers, and then I found my way onto the student shuttle where some girls helped me find my dorm. I think I also sang an Adele song on there.”
“Ha!” Greg let out a hearty laugh. “Which song? ‘Rolling in the Deep’?”
“No. That’s too cliché. I think it was ‘Rumor Has It.’” Ethan smiled, too. He’d broken through Greg’s shield of seriousness, if only for a second. “When I got back to my dorm, I wobbled down the hall and met a lot of my dormmates for the first time. I opened the door to my room and passed out on the threshold.”
“Passed out? After a beer?”
“And a half! I didn’t black out. I just sat against the door and watched people walk by. Then this girl offered to make me a PB&J and get me a glass of water to help absorb the alcohol.”
“Of a beer…”
“I had never drank before!” Ethan rolled his eyes. “Alcoholic.”
Greg half-smiled, showing his dimple off. It encouraged Ethan to keep going.
“That wasn’t even the worst of it,” he said. “I had my sandwich and water, and I ate it in the hallway and said hi to all passersby. Then I went into the suite where a bunch of kids were talking, sat down next to Jeremy Marker, and proceeded to put my feet in his face.”
And that’s where Greg nearly spat out his drink. He laughed so hard it turned into a giggle that turned his face red. “Jeremy Marker? Wide receiver on Browerton’s football team? Three-hundred-pound machine Marker who can knock five-hundred-pound guys to the ground?”
Ethan nodded yes and hid his head in his hands.
“You stuck your drunk feet in his face?”
“I very much did.”
“Wow. And you’re still alive.”
“I am. Luckily, Jessica pulled me off and brought me back to my room. The next day, kids told me that Jeremy was three seconds away from beating the shit out of me.”
“I believe it.” Greg giggled again, reaching a high pitch that only came from a true, can’t-stop-yourself laugh. “I assume this Jessica girl is now your designated feet holder.”
“No need. I haven’t gotten drunk since.” Ethan didn’t include the LGBT party, mostly because he chose to pretend that night ever existed.
