At least some of them came bearing gifts. They weren't supposed to, strictly speaking — the college football association was very clear on their rules about athletes receiving money or anything because of their status as a student athlete. But as afellow fraternity brother,they'd found a shoelace-sized loophole. Especially since someone had figured out Logan was a something of a sneakerhead, and…
The university gets to splash my name and face on the wall behind the ticket counter without me seeing a dime. And that company is coming in to do a scan on all of us next month so they can put the team in a video game, too. They can all, respectfully, suck it
What the athletics department didn't know about the half-dozen pristine shoe boxes hidden under his bed, the better, in Logan's book.
But it wasn't like most of the guys in the house weren't playing some video game or the other. So what if Wally's were filled with elves and dragons? Means he wasn't yelling through his headset at his squad for failing a level in Call of Honor. Or loudly heckling some trash-talking kid who was wiping the floor with him in Mudder Football.
Logan could turn over and bury his face in the pillow if the glare from Wally's laptop got to be too bright when he was trying to sleep. Kept him from stubbing his toes in the dark when he woke up in the middle of the night needing a piss, too.
"Mmm?" Logan hummed into his pillow at something Wally said, his tired brain sluggishly attempting to process the missed question.
"Is it going to bother you if I play my game?" Wally repeated, as if he thought he needed Logan's permission. For a moment, Logan was tempted to tell him that 'yes, it would bother me' — just to see how Wally reacted.
Eh, what the hell. Probably just that fantasy bullshit he loves, anyway
"No more than usual," Logan replied. "But keep it down, alright? Think I'm gonna crash and get some sleep before the party later."
"Oh," Wally said, sounding startled. "Right. That's tonight, isn't it?"
Logan cracked open a bleary eye.
"I mean, itisThursday, right?" Logan asked, suddenly unsure. He'd had Algebra this morning, though — at least, he thought it was this morning — so… Yeah, he could smell the fish frying for dinner downstairs. It had to be Thursday. "You're not going?"
"No one to go with," Wally said, and Logan could practically hear the shrug in the guy's voice. "Was going to, um.. To hang out with some friends."
"You have friends?" fell reflexively from Logan's mouth.
"Screw you," Wally muttered back, the words just sharp enough to deliver a dose of guilt beneath Logan's ribs.
Oh hell, why not? I'm stuck living with him. Might as well extend the olive branch, right?
"Ditch your nerd thing. I'll text Madeline and see if she has a friend who's free tonight," Logan said, digging out his phone. He was trying to remember the name of the blond sorority sister from Tri-Pi who'd been sitting next to Madeline when Logan had asked the cheerleader to tonight's party. It was on the tip of his tongue…
"Don't bother," Wally snorted. "Not into blind dates, much less a pity date. Besides — no offense, but any friend of your girlfriend's isn't likely to, uh… to be my type."
Logan and Madeline weren't dating, actually. But they'd hooked up a few times after games, which he figured was a solid enough excuse to ask for her help fixing up his… friend.
And for fuck's sake — who turns down a chance like this with one of the cheer squad chicks? Any other guy in the house would offer to do my laundry for a month. And here Wally — fuckingWally, who's probably never had anything remotely like a girlfriend unless she came with a literal remote — is here being a snob about it, as if he's got better options lined up around the corner
"S'not a blind date," Logan huffed, frustrated to have his plans for a nap thwarted in favor of Wally's love life, of all things. "Not even trying to set you up with her. Someone to mingle with, that's all. No use your plus-one going to waste, right? And what is this, a game show? Who cares abouttypes? If she's Madeline's friend, she'll be a cheerleader, which means she's hot. Hot andathletic. And if it so happens that you two hit it off…"
Then maybe you'll finally get laid, and can stop being so sketchy and weird all the time,Logan didn't say.
Instead, he let the idea dangle temptingly. Wally being a not-horrible roommate didn't mean Logan was suddenly invested enough in the guy to push, after all. Though, he had to admit that, for some reason, the notion of Wally with a girlfriend was a strange one. Even just trying to picture him with some girl on his arm at the party tonight sat oddly in Logan's head.
"Not sure the other guys want me there, anyway," Wally responded, yanking Logan's attention back to the present.
"What? It's a house party. You live in the house," Logan pointed out slowly, struggling to work out what Wally was on about. "Of course you're supposed to be there. Hell, you've got more right than any of the guys who live off campus."
"Try telling them that," Wally muttered under his breath, so low Logan barely caught it.
His attention was on the clock, working out how long he could sleep for and still have time to shower and shave before Madeline arrived for the party.
Long enough
He turned over and punched his pillow, the conversation already fading from his mind as exhaustion pulled at him hard.
"Whatever, man," Logan told Wally offhandedly. "Do what you want. Or better — do who you want. Show up at the party, or fuck off wherever you go to with your weirdo friends. I don't fucking care."
