Cherry and Stacia couldn’t really talk on the way to Russ’s house, because Russ rode along with them to show them the way. Cherry’s other friends came, too; Cherry was their ride home. Russ called, “Shotgun!” on the way to the car.
He lived in an apartment building not far from Creighton, in kind of a rough neighborhood. Cherry was expecting his apartment to be disgusting—three college guys lived there—but it actually wasn’t so bad. There wasn’t much furniture, but it was clean. Wood floors, high ceilings. There were already too many people crammed into the living room by the time Cherry and her friends got there. There was rap music playing, and some people were dancing. Cherry recognized a few of them, from classes and her dorm.
“There are drinks in the kitchen,” Russ said.
Stacia and Cherry’s other friends—Grace and Elizabeth—headed that way. Russ stuck by Cherry.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Is this fun for you?”
“What?”
“Staying sober while everyone around you gets progressively blitzed.”
She shrugged. “It varies.”
He hummed.
“It beats sitting in my dorm room by myself,” she said, “and Idoenjoy being smug and condescending with everyone the next day.”
“You must be really popular.”
“Sopopular.”
He ran his hand through his hair again. “Do you know what I remember about you, from ethics class?”
“My sweaters.”
“Beyond the sweaters.”
She shook her head.
“When we introduced ourselves on the first day, you said you were an art major.”
“I am.”
“Art majors don’t have to take ethics.”
“Ethics are universally relevant,” she said.
He looked amused. “Arethey?”
“I thought it sounded interesting.”
“So you took ethics as anelective...”
She nodded.
“I took History of Rock,” he said.
“That also sounds interesting.”
“It was.” The music had gotten louder. “It was!” Russ shouted, just in case she hadn’t heard him. “Cherry...” He leaned closer, his mouth by her ear. He was still shouting. “I thinkyou’reinteresting.”
She pulled her head back so she could see his face. “Are you drunk?”
Russ laughed. “No. I think I’m totally sober.”
Cherry didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to stand. She turned away from him, toward the people dancing in front of the couch.
