“Right now, I’m dating this pizza.”
“I mean last night. Who was that guy you brought to the gallery?”
“He was cute!” Chris bit his lip, and Brennan wanted to reach inside his beach-blond head and extract all dirty thoughts about Cliff.
“He’s just a guy I’m giving art lessons to.” Brennan felt heat rise in his neck.
“Is that what they’re calling it?” Rachel’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively on her forehead. Chris snickered.
Were they in junior high?
“He’s in an Intro to Art class.” Even though he was telling ninety percent of the truth, Brennan felt dirty about lying. But what was he really lying about?
“C’mon, Brennan. I’ve been too lazy to get new batteries for my vibrator, so I have to live vicariously through others,” Rachel said in one of her all-too-common overshares.
There went Brennan’s craving for more food. Just because she was raised by therapists didn’t mean every thought in her mind needed to be shared.
“You two looked cute,” Chris said.
“How so?” Brennan asked defensively. He wanted both to change the subject and get their opinions on how they looked.
“I don’t know, just...like a couple.”
“He kept looking at you,” Rachel said. “In that way.”
“What way?” He had to stop being curious. He was giving himself away.
Her face softened; the hopeless romantic came out. “Like he couldn’t believe he got to be near you.”
That made Brennan’s response even more painful to say. But Cliff drew the line in the sand this morning. It was fooling around to him. It was fun. Only Brennan was imagining them actually being together as something more. They had a good thing going, and Cliff didn’t want to complicate that, no matter what Brennan’s heart felt.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but we’re just friends.” The words left a terrible taste in his throat. So did the looks Rachel and Chris gave him. “He’s not gay.”
“Oh? More for me.” Rachel rubbed her hands together. If she were a guy talking about a girl, she’d be…well, a frat boy.
“Lady, they sell batteries in the student store right over there.” Chris pointed across the food court. “I think you better stock up.”
* * *
Brennan hadtwo back-to-back classes in the afternoon, which left him exhausted by the end. He didn’t know how people survived full nine-to-five jobs. He really hoped he could make the artist thing work.
Campus had a new buzz to it with Thanksgiving just two weeks away. Anticipation permeated the campus mood.
Brennan stopped into the coffee shop attached to the library for a late afternoon pick-me-up. He found Alex in the corner, hunched over his laptop with fervent determination, as if he was already three coffees in.
“You are in the zone, man,” Brennan said once he got his own liquid pick-me-up.
Alex raised his lips into an acknowledging smile, but his eyes stayed on the screen.
Brennan grabbed an empty chair from a neighboring table, although he considered leaving since Alex didn’t seem like he wanted to be disturbed. Did he dare try to make conversation?
“One second,” Alex said as he made a few definitive clicks on his computer. He snapped out of his trance. “Hey.”
“Hey. What’s going on? If you’re busy, I can go.”
“Nope. I’m all good. I’m better than good. I’m pumped!”
How many coffees did Alex have? His cheer had an aggressive edge to it.
