Bo whispered in my ear. “Not the food kind of pie, honey.”
I felt my body flush hot with embarrassment. Of course not that kind of pie. I felt like a fool.
“Stop being an asswipe, Jerry.” Bo curled his arms protectively around me and pushed my head onto his shoulder. He kicked Jerry sharply in the leg.
Jerry sputtered a few times and then managed to catch his breath. He wiped a few tears off his face. “Man, your face, AnnMarie, so innocently talking about liking pie.”
Bo didn’t like this; I could feel him stiffen around me. I pressed my hand on his tense thigh to prevent him from kicking Jerry even harder this time.
“Shut up, asshole.” The disgust in Gray’s voice was evident to everyone but Jerry, who looked bewildered that anyone would take offense to his story.
“Just roasting Bo, man,” Jerry complained.
Even Wilson, who had been the subject of hazing earlier, chimed in. “Not cool, bro, not cool.”
“Why don’t we talk about something else,” Bo said, his voice as hard as his frame. Jerry was determined, however, to tell one more story, and I regretted egging him on. I hadn’t realized that Jerry wasn’t really an old friend, but someone who was eaten with jealousy over Bo’s exploits. This last story of Jerry’s, the one he was desperate to tell and had been building toward since he started, was the coup de grace. Whatever slight Bo had done to Jerry, imagined or real, Jerry had been waiting to repay him.
“See, Bo here, with his love of bets and pie, couldn’t resist his buddy Noah’s bet that Bo here couldn’t fuck the entire drill team, all twenty-seven of them.” Jerry nodded affirmatively. “He fucked them all, some of them two at a time, his senior year.”
I felt Bo’s arms tighten around me, afraid that I was going to jump off his lap screaming. Maybe I would have, before, but not now, after all we’d been through.
“Yeah, I’d be a little leery, too, of what kind of things ol’ Baker’s carrying around on his person. Why don’t you come sit on me?” He patted his knee. It was a disgusting offer. I got the sense that the only reason Bo’s fist wasn’t in Jerry’s mouth was because I was in the way. But I didn’t want Bo to get upset. That would only feed into Jerry’s narcissistic plan. I relaxed against Bo and pulled up his arm snug against me, right under my breasts. His grip was almost painful. I kept one hand on his arm, and the other I dropped down to stroke the side of his thigh.
“No, thanks. I’d rather sit here. At least I can be confident that Bo knows what he’s doing.”
Jerry looked confused, as if he couldn’t believe I wasn’t totally disgusted by Bo’s whorish behavior.
“But, did you hear me? He was called the Baker because he ate out all those girls,” Jerry repeated, more loudly now.
I felt Bo starting to rise, getting ready to set me on my feet. His chest rumbled as if he were was about to growl something at Jerry, but I pushed back against him, hoping he’d stay seated. Getting a rise out of Bo was Jerry’s goal. Jerry wouldn’t like it half as well if Bo didn’t react, which was why Jerry’s stories had become increasingly disturbing.
“Like I said, at least he’ll know what he’s doing tonight.”
Jerry looked like he wanted to try again, like I hadn’t gotten his point, but Bo had had enough. He rose and gently set me aside and stalked over to Jerry’s chair. Bo hauled Jerry up by his collar and frog-marched him out the door. The rest of us followed behind him. I wasn’t sure what Bo was going to do, but nothing good could come from a private confrontation.
Jerry was protesting loudly, but Bo’s friends formed a kind of circle around him so that other people couldn’t really see. For all they knew, we were helping a really drunk guy home. Jerry stopped struggling once he realized that no one was coming to his aid. Whether it was the liquor or just a dogged pursuit of his agenda, Jerry decided to renew his attacks on Bo’s reputation.
“What’s the matter, Bo? You afraid your reputation’s going to scare off your girl? Did you see her face when I told her the entire drill team?”
It was as if we weren’t even there. It was just Jerry and Bo.
Gripping Bo’s arm, I swung around to face him, and he pushed Jerry aside. I placed both hands around his face. “He’s not worth it. You know who won this? You. You did before he ever showed up. He’s eaten up inside with jealousy. His life must suck a thousand times worse than a Hoover vacuum because no happy guy tries this act without feeling so insecure that he hates himself for it in the morning. I bet he can’t even look in the mirror without disgust. You’ve won, Bo, or you wouldn’t even be a target. So walk away. Right now. Walk away with me,” I begged.