“Wow. Quite the time to walk into a conversation.”
Robbie DeLaurentiis stood at the booth, holding a pint of Guinness. He was tall, muscular, and blonde. An All-American boy. Next to him was Weston, Jane’s boyfriend, a winger on the hockey team. He was red in the face.
Robbie smiled at Clarisse.
“Adonis was just going to the bathroom,” Clarisse said, shoving him out of the booth. “Here, take his seat.”
“Was I,” Adonis muttered. It wasn’t a bad idea. He should wipe his face after the gin and tonic geyser.
He was quick in the bathroom. His eyes were pink from the tears, and his nose was tender, but thankfully, no snot had gotten on his shirt.
“Welcome, gaydies, gentlethem, and my friends trapped tragically in the binary,” Ms. Jizzle said into the microphone. “We’ll be starting our first round of trivia. Geography.”
Adonis returned to the booth. Two more had joined their party: Weston, Jane’s brick wall of a boyfriend, and another boy who sat next to Robbie. He was all shoulders, muscles, jawline, and intense blue eyes. He seemed tall, even sitting. His hair was dark and perfect, and his black T-shirt revealed intricate blue tattoos covering his left arm.
“You know the Basher, right?” Robbie was saying to the group.
“Do people actually call you that?” Hugo asked, leaning forward on an elbow, a flirty look on his face.
“Yes,” said the Dutchman.
Robbie and Bash were giants and left no room on their side of the booth. Adonis squeezed onto the other side, next to Weston, who was a friend and made as much room as he could. Adonis was facing Bash, whose legs were long and crowded into Adonis’s space. Clarisse slid Adonis his drink.
“What country contains the Chernobyl nuclear plant?” Ms. Jizzle asked.
“Ukraine,” Bash said, pointing at their paper. Jane wrote it down.
“Glad I brought you,” Robbie said. He flashed a smile at the group. One of his teeth had a cap. “Bash had a rough day. I thought this would cheer him up. Thanks for inviting me, by the way.”
Bash scowled.
“Wes was just making introductions,” Robbie said to Adonis. “I’m Robbie. This is Bash. He frowns more than he talks.”
“I talk,” Bash said.
“Yes, and you frown more.”
Though the figure skating club and the hockey team shared the Rink, there was little overlap between the groups beyond voluntary activities like this and the occasional event thrown by the National Collegiate Skating Sports Union. Adonis knew Bash by reputation only. He was a fierce and talented player, and rumor had it he had already been drafted by the Seattle Killer Whales.
Adonis introduced himself.
“You have skill,” Bash said, staring at Adonis. Adonis fought the urge to squirm.
“Thank you,” he said.
“I’ve seen you skate,” Bash explained. He drank some of his beer.
“So, you were talking about choking during sex?” Robbie said.
“Good god,” said Weston. He was even redder in the face.
“We were,” Jane said. She took Weston’s hand. “Not because of anything we’ve done. Don’t get the wrong idea. We’re as vanilla as they come, and vanilla is a good flavor.”
“This feels like a very intimate conversation,” Hugo said.
“I’m taking the answer up,” Weston said. Adonis stood to give him space. The hockey player lumbered away. When Adonis sat again, he accidentally caught Bash’s gaze. Bashalmostsmiled, like they shared an inside joke.
“I think it’s anti-feminist,” Jane continued.
