“Oh yeah.”
Ethan had tried to balance her when they first left the tailgate—contrary to what she believed, Lorna could not hold her liquor—yet she was strolling alongside him by this point.
“But he pulled his knee away when I touched it.”
“That’s because you were in public. Right by his fraternity. In a football stadium parking lot. Hetero Central. He couldn’t make a move.”
She had a point. Ethan did not pick an opportune place to touch the knee of a closeted frat boy. “Couldn’t he have winked at me? Just so I knew that he knew we were on the same page.”
“Because a wink would’ve been that much subtler.” She gave him a wink, just to demonstrate its inherent shadiness.
Ethan held the front door open for Lorna, and she curtsied.
“So what do I do now?”
“Give him time.” They stopped by the mailboxes. Nothing for Ethan, but Lorna received a thick fashion magazine. “You made your move. He knows you’re interested. If he’s interested back, he’ll make his.”
“If? This morning you said the feeling was mutual. Was that the booze talking?”
“No,mom. Things are a little complicated. He may like you but refuse to do anything about it.” Lorna shut her mailbox, and it echoed inside Ethan. A definitive shut out. “You’re out. You’re you. Greg isn’t there yet.”
Ethan leaned against the wall of mailboxes as the fear sunk in that he might never be. “We’ve never kissed,” he said. “We’ve done lots of other stuff, and he wants to do even more stuff, but we’ve never kissed.”
Hearing him say it aloud crumpled a part of Ethan. That must have been an answer, just not one he wanted.
“Don’t worry. It’ll happen,” Lorna said, faltering with her pep talk.
“You don’t sound certain.”
“I’m not. I’m hopeful.”
Ethan acted as spotter for Lorna as they climbed the stairs. He himself wobbled up the steps, gripping onto the banisters to propel himself. A buzz lingered in his system, but mostly he was tired. It was only noon, but he felt like he had lived an entire day already.
He expected Lorna’s room to be empty. He expected his friends—no air-quotes needed—to be on some excursion around Duncannon. Instead, he and Lorna stumbled into her room and interrupted a study session between Jessica and Preston. Ethan made sure to guide Lorna directly to her bed.
“I can take it from here.” Lorna eschewed all drunkenness as she hopped onto her top bunk. Ethan figured she’d probably gotten up there under worse conditions.
“Are you good?” he asked her. She nodded wildly and laid down to rest. That meant he had to face Jessica.
“Hey,” Jessica said. Her expression quickly went south as she sized him up. His hair was messed up, a beer stain ran down his lime-green T-shirt, and he was pretty sure that “Go Whitetails!” had been painted on his face at some point.
“Hi.” Ethan leaned against the bunk bed. He could almost hear the thoughts Jessica and Preston were sending each other. He wished Lorna were still awake.
“Ethan’s got spirit!” Preston called out, scratching at his day-old scruff. He seemed to get a kick out of him, and Ethan felt himself blush for a second.
“I went to the tailgate. Lorna invited me. Did you know most students go to the tailgate, but not the game?”
“Interesting,” Preston said with an exaggerated nod. Ethan wondered what they would all say about him later. It might be the only time when he was the topic of conversation.
“I was wondering where you were,” Jessica said. “I knocked on your door before we went to breakfast.”
“You should’ve texted.”Like with the movies. Or not.Ethan’s breath caught in his chest.
Jessica’s face pinched into a pinpoint. “I can smell the beer on you.”
“We played flip cup. It was fun.”
“How’d you do?” Preston asked, and it sounded like he actually wanted to know.
