Undeclared(48)

“I figure you’re doing enough sampling for both of us.” I drained the last of my beer and went inside to get another from the fridge. The kitchen was fairly empty. Another sign of belonging. No one goes into the fridge except us. Bo followed me inside, and I tipped my head toward the fridge to see if he needed a new one. He shook his head.

The only furniture we had on the first floor was a very long, battered table, where a bunch of people seemed to be doing body shots off one girl laid out like a sacrifice, and two equally battered sofas around the spot where our big screen TV usually hung.

It made for a good party house. I headed for the stairs. Maybe I should see if Grace texted me. The stairs were taped off with some fake crime scene tape. I hopped over and took the steps three at a time. When I stopped at the landing, I realized that there were people in the hall bathroom going at it.

I hated that. Someone always had to clean up the mess left by drunk people. The vomit was bad enough, —but somebody’s discarded condom was even worse. I gave the door a loud bang and told them to get the fuck out. I didn’t stick around to see if anyone obeyed my orders. Bo was right behind me and banged on the door, too. “I hope you used a condom.”

I smirked at him. Our interruptions definitely would’ve caused a hitch in some guy’s stroke.

“What’re we doing upstairs?” Bo asked.

“I’m checking my phone.” I hadn’t heard the phone alert me to any text messages, but it was loud. Maybe I had missed one. I wanted to be in a quiet place if I needed to call Grace back.

“I’m worried, man,” Bo said concern tingeing his words. I wasn’t really listening.

“Yeah?” I responded, my attention on my phone. No messages.

“Grace was a nice girl to send you all that shit, but you know you don’t really owe her anything,” Bo continued.

“I don’t think I owe her something.” I was getting a little irritated now that his words were penetrating.

“I just don’t get it. She’s not your type at all,” Bo said.

“What’s my type?” I challenged.

“Someone more driven. Someone who has her act together.”

“She’s got her act together,” I said. I really didn’t know if she did, but what did it matter. I knew where I wanted to go. She could just come along with me.

“She doesn’t. She doesn’t have a major. She almost had a panic attack watching a dirty movie with you. She doesn’t have any other interests in her life.”

“How do you know that?” I shook my head. Bo knew nothing about Grace.

“Because I can ask questions just as good as you. This girl goes to class, does her ten hours of service, and nothing else. She’s not in a sorority. She doesn’t do theater. She doesn’t volunteer. She doesn’t take a ton of classes. She’s just existing.”

“Sounds familiar,” I said, looking pointedly at Bo. I wondered why this bothered Bo so much, since he pretty much described his own life. He looked away for a minute but didn’t allow that point to deter him. He pressed on.

“Yeah, but I shot bad guys next to you,” Bo said. “You have to be friends with me. And you can be friends with Grace. It’s just, why tie yourself to one girl? You should be downstairs taking one or more of those chicks up on their offers instead of up here checking your phone. This is your time to enjoy yourself.”

Bo’s mantra was to live hard, as if we only had so many years to be able to have fun before real life beat us down. Enjoying life apparently included bedding as many girls as humanly possible, like life was a first-person-shooter game, only women were Bo’s targets. He was accumulating life points with each conquest.

“You don’t know her,” I repeated.

“Tell me, then,” Bo said skeptically.

I stared at him in disbelief. “Why’re you busting my balls over this?”

Bo looked out the window over the pool and at the mass of flesh below. “Because you’re one of the good guys, Noah. The rest of us are a bunch of assholes, but you deserve something special.”

“You sell yourself short, bro.” I clapped him on the shoulder. I didn’t want to argue with Bo over Grace. These two were going to have to be friends. They were going to be part of my life for a very long time. “Be happy for me. I want to look at the world like Grace does, so that even the ordinary things look amazing.”

“Just think about it,” he warned. “It might even be good for you and Grace. You could make sure that she was right for you by testing out some other options.”

“How about I go downstairs and be the best fucking wingman ever,” I suggested. Bo shrugged. He’d said his piece. If this spiel had come from any other person, I’d have thought that they were implying I wasn’t good enough for Grace. Bo was the opposite. He didn’t think Grace was good enough for me, which I didn’t get, even though I appreciated the loyalty.