I’m going to have to see him again at practice next week, but I’ll focus on getting through my birthday party first. The guys really have made an effort to make it special, and they deserve that at least.
ELIAS
I find my roommates exactly where I expected to find them—sprawled out in front of the TV surrounded by a mountain of empty pizza boxes.
“I need your help.”
Jesse looks up first. Chad scratches his balls and makes a non-committal grunting noise.
“What do you guys know aboutStar Wars?”
That perks them up.
There is a verystrong chance that I will be discovered and thrown out on the Alpha Sigma Psi lawn looking more ridiculous than I have ever looked in my life, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take.
After my conversation with Noah, I talked to my father about not being noticed by Richard Kingsley, and with Noah’s words in my head, his admonishments didn’t feel half as bad.
I have to face facts—there is a good chance I will not be scouted by a pro coach this year. There is also a good chance that maybe I’m not ready. That maybe I was being cocky when I arrived here. Thinking I was automatically better than everyone on the team, just because none of them had played a pro tour. Ben is a better player than me right now, instead of throwing a tantrum and having an existential crisis over it, I should be using it to fuel my desire to get better. To ask for help. If Ben can find it in his heart to forgive me enough for that.
But I’m going to this party dressed in this ridiculous outfit because I want to ask for far more than help with my game.
Getting the bus was a bad idea. People have been staring, pointing and laughing, and asking for selfies, since the second I got on with Chad and Jesse in their Chewbacca onesies. They’re loving the attention, but this is the kind of attention I could do without right now.
I stay focused on what I’m going to say when I see Ben—if I even get to see Ben. I’m still preparing myself for the possibility that his henchmen will toss me out before I even get close.
There is a reason why Ben is so loved. Why his frat brothers are so protective over him. It’s not necessarily because they want to treat him like a child—though that is ultimately what they end up doing. They love him. Like I do.
“Okay, man?” Chad asks.
I nod, though I’m one step away from hyperventilating in this thing. My baby is sitting in my lap wearing a birthday boy sash and a party hat. Chad and Jesse keep smirking at me, and the baby, and stifling giggles.
“Dude, this is so romantic,” Jesse says.
Chad nods enthusiastically.
At this very moment, I would much rather be holding a boombox over my head. I’d even do a dance routine to Otis Redding. But the whole point of a romantic gesture is to do something that the object of your affections would genuinely love. And I know Ben would love this. At least, he would if we were actually dating.
I’m sweating in this cheap polyester as we walk down Greek Row.
The party isn’t as wild as I was imagining. No one’s throwing up in a bush and there are no empty cans of beer strewn all over the lawn. There are guards on the door, however. Young looking guys in stormtrooper costumes. They’ve taken the helmets off and are joking around, their faces sweaty.
“This was a bad idea.” I stop short, panic rising in my chest.
“Dude, what are you so scared of? Being thrown out of a party by some silly freshmen?”
I’m scared of being rejected by Ben after putting myself out there.
Chad squeezes me by the shoulder as best he can in the costume and urges me forward.
“Come on, they’re probably just checking to make sure the Kappas aren’t crashing. So long as we’re wearing costumes, we’ll fit right in.”
“Yeah man,” Jesse agrees. “Would you really go to this much trouble just to cause shit at someone’s birthday party?”
I nod. He’s right. I’m not sure if I want him to be, but he is.
We push ahead, making it halfway up the driveway before one of the stormtroopers notices us.
“Hey, it’s baby Yoda!”
