DECEMBER

Charlotte (a barista)

The place is packed, as it usually is at this point in the afternoon, but the line is suspiciously short so I let one of the other people take their break before me, hoping that when it’s my turn to take a break it’ll be in the middle of chaos and I’ll get to walk away casually, like Mel Gibson as a bomb goes off behind him.

Maybe I should pick someone cooler than Mel Gibson.

I’ll work on that.

It’s another terrible shift without Keith or Tabitha. Tabitha would be particularly effusive and happy today since Lea is here, which means any second Gabe is going to wander in. And like clockwork, there he is. He glances over at her and then steps into the line.

I’m feeling a little more neutral about him recently. I’m not sure way. Perhaps I’ve been infused with the Christmas spirit or I’ve finally just lost my mind. I’m on drink duty, so I probably won’t have a chance to talk to him. He’s a regular coffee kind of guy. I’m almost a little disappointed because I’d like to test him, see if he’s more normal these days.

Shockingly, he orders a mint hot chocolate. I’m so surprised that I’m actually going to get to make his drink that I almost drop the cup when I see the “Gabe” scrawled on the side. He walks down to the end of the counter and leans casually out of the way.

“Hey,” I say to him.

He nods at me, smiling a little, tight-lipped.

“Mint hot chocolate?” I say.

He stares at my lips. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone stare at my lips quite so intently. Not even the kid who stalked me sophomore year of high school.

“It’s good stuff here; I’ll add a little extra pump of mint for you and make it even better,” I tell him conspiratorially. He continues to stare at my lips but he draws his eyebrows down even farther in confusion. He probably can’t hear me over the steam wand at the moment.

“How’s the end of the semester going?” I try a new tact with him.

He shrugs.

“Yeah, I feel that.” This isn’t going nearly as well as I had expected and I can feel burgeoning hope for him and Lea ebb and fade. Damn Tabitha, she brainwashed me.

“Whip?” I ask.

He draws his eyebrows in even more, squinting, and then it’s like he gives up.

“I’m sorry?” he says finally, looking me in the eye.

“Do you want whipped cream?” I ask, holding up the bottle.

“Oh, yeah.” He pauses, licking his lips. “I have trouble hearing in here sometimes.”

“That’s cool. It’s loud.”

He smiles and nods as he accepts his drink. “Thanks,” he says.

The line is even quieter now and I have no drinks stacked waiting for me, so I watch Gabe pick his way across the room. There aren’t too many empty tables. There’s a two-seater right next to Lea and I think maybe he’s going to take that one. He stops and stares at it even, and I feel like his thoughts are written all over his face, calculating some kind of impossible math problem that involves how to get himself into that seat. He changes course and ends up farther away from her, but as he sits she looks up.

They wave at each other.

She glances at the seat he didn’t take and I wonder what the deal is with them. Not in the silly way that we gossip about, but I wonder about the way that they look at each other but so rarely acknowledge it. It’s kind of sad. I promise myself I’ll go back to being annoyed by them tomorrow, but for now I let myself sink into the melancholy.

But then there are two salted caramel lattes to make, and a venti white chocolate mocha, and a break that’s coming up any second and the bell jingling on the door. Their moment is over and so is mine.

Frank (Chinese food delivery guy)

Back to the freshman dorm with another delivery. Seriously, these two need to get their acts together and order at the same time. I’m getting tired of driving out here twice in the same day. It’s the third time in two months.

“Hey,” I say as the girl comes to collect her order.

“Hey,” she responds, handing me her money.

“So, you and your boyfriend have a fight?”

“Who?” she asks, side-eyeing me.

“You know, the kid who lives upstairs.”

“Gabe? He’s not my boyfriend.” She says it fast and I feel like I’ve been around long enough to know that her quick denial means she probably likes him.

“He ordered like an hour ago, same stuff as last time. You should start ordering together.”

“But we’re not together,” she insists.

“That’s not really what I’m saying.”

“I’m confused.”

“I’m not exactly Dear Abby, but you guys have … something weird going on. I can tell. I have a third eye.”

She gives me a vaguely disgusted look.

“You know, like I can see shit. And there’s something about you guys. I don’t know. Call me crazy, but I think if you asked him to order food with you, he’d be into it.”

“I…” She pauses and shakes her head. “Thanks.”

She walks away then and I feel like a royal dumbass. But I had to say something. My grandma would be so mad at me if I didn’t. She’s the one who taught me about the third eye.

Hillary (creative writing classmate)

It’s the last day of creative writing for the semester. I can’t believe it’s over and Gabe still hasn’t asked me out. I mean, what is that about? I thought for sure he was super into me.

Inga calls the class to attention and hands back a big stack of papers that she’d apparently been hoarding. And then she makes the last two people in the class read for the semester. When they’re done she claps her hands together.

“All right guys, this is it. I want to remind you that your final papers are due one week from today. And I want hard copies of them, not just emailed at some random moment when you blur the deadline. I’ll be in my office from ten to twelve next Tuesday, or you can drop it in my mailbox in the English department anytime between now and then.”

Victor groans. I have to admit that I have a lot of respect for Victor. He always speaks his mind.

“A problem, Victor?”

“Such a waste of trees,” he says.

Inga glares at him. “For final papers I like to have hard copies.”

“I don’t mean—” He stops, rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

Inga stares at him for another second and I hope he keeps going. I love the drama.

“Anyway, these are long papers. In the past when I accepted emailed documents I often found myself printing them out anyway. I might seem like a dinosaur to you, but there’s something about seeing your work on the page as opposed to the screen. I think I mark better on paper. People get higher grades.”

Victor plasters a huge fake smile on his face.

“Anything else?” Inga asks.

Silence.

I notice Gabe is antsy, his feet kicking the back of Victor’s chair. I can almost see the steam rising from Victor’s ears. Inga definitely doesn’t notice.

“Well, then class dismissed. I know it’s a little early, so I’ll take questions here and now if you have any; if not I’d suggest taking this found time to work on your final.”

Victor wheels around in his seat as soon as Inga’s done and first stares at Lea and then stares at Gabe.

“Listen, if you two like each other so damn much, you should probably just get it on already and stop annoying all the people around you.”

I gasp. I can’t help it. I almost laugh, because seriously, how could Victor think that Gabe and Lea have any chemistry. They look at each other for a second and then Gabe pretty much runs out of the classroom. Lea takes her time packing up, and Victor continues to mutter under his breath.

I guess Gabe isn’t going to ask me out.

Victor (creative writing classmate)

Midnight breakfast is definitely one of my favorite nights of the year. I don’t know why it all tastes so much better at midnight than it does in the morning, but seriously, it’s just genius. I’m going to spend the whole damn night eating toast and omelets and hash browns.

I’m so excited I don’t even notice one of my least-favorite people ahead of me in line. But there’s the Giraffe, ordering more than her fair share of triangle hash browns.

And as she’s walking toward the drink station, Big Foot himself comes through, colliding with her.

Of course.

Her full food tray and his mostly empty one fall to the ground with a crash, scattering glass and food everywhere.

I weep for all those hash browns.

I step off to the side.

Their mess is blocking my way and, really, I don’t want to deal with them right now. Hopefully a custodian will come soon and they’ll be on their way. Because I definitely don’t feel bad about what I said to them earlier, but it’s not like I want to challenge Big Foot to a fight over his woman’s honor or something. He’s totally that kind of guy.

I back away, concealed in a gap between the wall and the soda dispenser, and I listen to the two of them chirp apologies at each other.

“I’m so sorry,” she says.

“No, no, it was me,” he says.

Why am I stuck here listening to this? It’s gotta be karmic retribution, but I don’t even know for what. I’m a good guy! I get a little impatient sometimes, but who doesn’t?

“You’re kneeling in syrup,” she says, her voice all weird and breathy like it’s some kind of beautiful phrase that should be cross-stitched on a pillow or something.

Apparently he doesn’t respond because I hear her again. “Your knee.”

“Oh, nobigdeal,” he says quietly.

Can these two just stop? I try to find an escape route, but there’s just no way through. I could try to cut around them, but they’re blocking the entire archway. And I guess everyone else is avoiding this area due to the mess, so there’s no one to even use as a diversion.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t kneeling in any glass,” she says, still using her cross-stitch voice.

“I’m not.” Maybe I like him more than I thought I did. He keeps things succinct, to the point. I peek around the corner and he’s making these sad eyes at her and I take back my previous thought. And I wonder if I’m ever going to get out of here. I peek again.

“I think there are some little shards over here,” he says.

“Yeah, but I think you got everything in this spot.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. You?”

“Yeah, except for my jeans…” he says with this dumb-shit little smile.

The custodian finally comes over here and I think these two might get out of the way. But instead they stand there and decide to have a little chat. Perfect.

First they have to apologize profusely to the janitor, who waves them off and says they did a good job. People need to stop being so nice to them.

Then in the biggest moment of idiocy I have ever encountered, the Giraffe turns to Big Foot and says, all fluttering eyelashes and adoring gazes, “I’m Lea. I feel like we should have properly introduced ourselves like a hundred years ago.”

I want to slam my head into the wall. Why won’t they go away?

“Gabe.”

I shake my head and roll my eyes and just barely keep from concussing myself into oblivion.

“I kept meaning to talk to you in class, but it seemed weird, like we already knew each other, or already should have known each other. And the longer I waited the weirder it felt and then we lived in the same building and you didn’t really seem like you wanted to talk, and I didn’t want to bother you. I’m going to stop talking now.”

I stare at the ceiling, praying for it to fall on me.

“I, um … didn’t want to bother you either.”

“Well, now that we’ve both said it that way, maybe we should start bothering each other.”

I pick up my fork off my tray and pretend to stab myself in the eye with it.

“I’m gonna go.”

THANK GOD.

“Sure, sure,” she says.

“Are you leaving? We could, um, walk together.”

JUST GO.

“Ah, no. Maribel, my roommate, she’s over there and we’re going to stay here and study for a little longer. I was getting us extra hash browns to share.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you around though?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I am almost going to get out of here. I feel like I’m about to be released from prison. I might actually kiss the ground after this.

“Gabe?”

No.

“Yeah?”

“I really liked your essay. About being shy? I mean, I liked all the work of yours I’ve read, but that one was really good.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“I looked up that tree on the Internet. It’s fascinating.”

He makes a weird, choked laughing sound. Maybe I should put him out of his misery, too.

“Anyway, if I don’t see you, have a good break,” she says.

“Yeah, you too.”

Finally. I make my way back to my friends, who don’t even seem to notice I’ve been gone that long. And of course my omelet is cold.

Maribel (Lea’s roommate)

“Hey, where have you been?” I ask as Lea comes back to our table. “I thought you abandoned me and I was going to have to slink out of here with all of our crap by myself. You have a lot of crap.” I survey the table. She’s got stacks of notebooks and index cards and highlighters. I think she has a serious school-supply addiction.

She shakes her head, a smile threatening to burst off her face. “The most amazing thing just happened.”

“Really? What? Are they making smoothies?” I ask, leaning around her, trying to see the food area. “I heard there are supposed to be smoothies. And weren’t you getting us more hash browns?”

“Maribel,” Lea says seriously. “Gabe was here.”

“Oh! Fun!” I say. It’s only sort of fun. This is going to be another one of those stories about how she gazed at him adoringly while he stared out the window or something. That’s how a lot of the Gabe stories go these days. I’ve been thinking that I might have to counsel her into finding a new object of affection.

“We talked,” she says, her eyes wide.

That is not what I expected. “What happened? Leave no detail behind.”

“All right,” she says, composing herself and folding her hands on the table, leaning close to divulge. “So, I finished going back through the line to get more of the triangle hash browns, and I was thinking about how delicious they were, so I didn’t look both ways to see if I was walking in front of anyone.”

“That is so unlike you. You’re such a stickler for pedestrian traffic rituals, even indoors.”

“I know, right?” she says. “So, out from the other side comes Gabe and we collide, sending our trays to the floor and making a huge gross mess.”

“Oh no!” I say, though inwardly I’m relieved that I didn’t have to deal with the mess. I’m kind of a terrible friend sometimes.

“He immediately drops down and starts cleaning it up, picking up pieces of plates and cups. I grab the garbage can and bring it closer and then get some napkins to try to clean up all the drinks. When I crouch next to him he says he’s sorry. And then we both just kind of keep saying sorry over and over again. And I tell him he’s kneeling in maple syrup and he doesn’t hear me at first and then he says it’s no big deal.”

I nod along with the story because I have a sense that it’s going somewhere.

“Then the janitor comes up and says he’ll take it from there. And Gabe puts his hand out to help me up!”

“That’s really cute,” I say, and I mean it. I smile then and assume that’s got to be the end of this story.

“And then!” she says, her eyes going wide.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, there’s an ‘and then’?”

“Yes! More than one even!” she exclaims. “Gabe kind of lingers, wiping his hands, so I linger and I decide to introduce myself since I haven’t ever, really. And he says he’s Gabe. And then I babble about how I wanted to talk to him in the past but I didn’t want to bother him or anything. And then basically when I feel like I’m probably going to die from embarrassment he says he didn’t want to bother me either.”

She pauses, beaming, and again I think that must be the end of the story. It’s a good story considering they’ve never spoken to each other before.

“And then he basically asked me if I wanted to walk home with him!”

“Why did you say no?”

“Because you’re here and I didn’t want to abandon you.”

“Damn me! And being here! And you being a good friend and not abandoning me.”

“It’s okay, Mar. It probably would have been really awkward.”

“Or maybe not,” I say.

“And then I told him I liked his essay and that I looked up that tree online and he looked so embarrassed. In conclusion, I want to hug him.”

“I like that conclusion,” I say, grinning.

“He’s so shy. Like I knew he was shy, but somehow, up close like that, where it was just us, he seemed even more than shy. Tense and afraid. I think he was almost relieved when I said that I had to stay.”

“That makes sense from what you told me about him.”

“And then I would have gone into my awkward-and-reserved mode, or even worse, trying-to-fill-the-void-of-silence mode, and it would have been a terrible walk.”

I look at her sympathetically. Those are two modes that she falls into quite often.

“Oh, God, I like him so much. What am I going to do?” she says, flailing dramatically and slumping in her chair.

“Is it finally time to take action?” I ask, slamming my fist on the table.

She sits up straight. “I think it is. But Danny said he’s not into girls. There’s no changing that.”

“We need confirmation on that. It’s the one piece of the puzzle that’s not quite coming together. We’ll figure this out, okay?”

“You’re so nice to me. Why are you so nice to me?”

“Because,” I say, shrugging. “We’ll get Bianca on it too. She’s great with this stuff. She’s like a CSI agent, putting together pieces of mysterious boys’ lives for the greater good.”

“It’s so stupid to like him this much. I was doing fine until he read that essay in class.”

“Lea, calm down. We’re going to do this and you’re going to be so happy.”

“You know, normally, I would be like, that’s great, but what if he’s a jerk? But I know he’s not a jerk.”

“No, he’s quite obviously not a jerk.”

“Ugh, you know who totally is a jerk though?”

“Who?”

She tips her chin a few tables over.

“Who is that?”

“Victor from creative writing.”

“The one who was a douche to you guys the other day?”

“Yup.”

“Damn him.”

“Damn him indeed.”

Casey (Gabe’s friend)

Gabe’s twenty-first birthday is in the midst of finals. I feel kind of bad, because there’s just no way I can go out hard for him in the middle of my exams, but we find a random afternoon that we both have free to at least go to the bar together for cheap slices and drafts.

“Happy birthday,” I say, holding up my mug to clink with his.

“Thanks,” he says before taking a sip. “Sucks that Sam couldn’t come.”

“It does, but he promises he’ll make it up to you.”

“I think I’m scared.”

I laugh. “When are you finished with finals?”

“I had an in-class exam for two of my classes, I had one final this morning, then I have a stats final on Monday, and I still have to hand in my creative writing paper on Thursday.”

“Have you finished the paper?”

“Haven’t even started it,” he says around a bite of pizza. “I wanted to work on everything else first. The other classes I was worried about. I think I have this one in the bag. I’m still about to have an anxiety attack about stats.”

“Want me to help you with it this weekend?”

“Yeah, that would be great,” he says. “My head gets all jumbled.”

I nod.

“I, um. I talked to Lea last night,” he says.

“And you waited all this time to tell me!”

“We’ve been hanging out for like ten minutes.”

“Still, ten minutes too long.”

“She was … really nice.”

“As usual.”

“We were at midnight breakfast,” he says.

“Why wasn’t I invited to midnight breakfast?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to go.”

“You should have texted me.”

“Fine, I’ll keep that in mind for the next time.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re learning.”

“We literally bumped into each other. It was mostly my fault. My elbow just completely gave out.”

I nod sympathetically. “That damn elbow.”

“It pretty much ruined my life,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But now at least it gave me a chance to talk to Lea.”

“Glass half full.”

“Anyway. After we finished cleaning up, she was so … cute. She introduced herself like we didn’t know each other. But it was so unassuming.”

I smile. “Sounds like your kind of chick.”

“Seriously. And she said something about not wanting to bother me, and I had to keep myself from like yelling at her that she could never bother me. But instead I said something about how I didn’t want to bother her either. And then we kind of both stood there for a minute.” He shakes his head, blushing. “I offered to walk her home, but her friend was there so they were staying.”

He stares at the table.

“Sounds like a good interaction.”

“It was. She said she liked the essay I read in class.”

“A very good interaction.”

“Do you think it was too much? Me asking to walk her home?”

“Not at all. You live in the same place. It was thoughtful. I’d go so far as to call it gentlemanly.”

“Cool.” He pauses, scratching his head. “I had a lot of trouble hearing her.”

I nod, but stay quiet, because between this and the elbow thing I think he might talk about something substantial. He’s like a deer; I don’t want to make any sudden movements and startle his thoughts away.

“It’s like, I get so nervous. And I don’t know where to look. And my ear is saying, ‘Watch her mouth,’ and my eyes are like, ‘Look anywhere but at her mouth!’ It’s hard to break the habit of years and years of not looking at people.”

Oh, man, he looks so sad. I don’t know how to help him with this. He doesn’t usually talk like this, and now I’m panicking and I have no idea what to say. I am the worst friend ever.

Maybe I’ll make a joke?

“What about your nose? Does your nose get a say in the matter? Or your toenails, Gabe?”

“Shut up, don’t be an asshole,” he says, but he’s smiling now at least. And at least he’s not offended by my teasing.

“I think your left nut has an opinion, too.”

He laughs. “I know it’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb,” I say, shrugging. “It’s a little arbitrary. You have to do what’s good for you in the moment. And don’t obsess about it.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“She’s like … really pretty, even prettier up close.”

“I have to point out that you’ve seen her up close a bunch of times.”

“Yeah, but this was different,” he says, smiling. Then he screws up his face in pain and pinches the bridge of his nose. “My essay was kind of lame. About being shy. I feel stupid now because she remembers it. And associates me with the lameness.”

“I think that could probably work in your favor.”

“Sam kind of said the same thing.” He looks up at me, his face relaxing. “How do you figure?”

“’Cause it means she already knows you’re shy and it’s obvious she didn’t think it was lame if she brought it up.”

“Huh, I hadn’t thought of it like that,” he says, looking impressed. “Want another slice?”

“Definitely.”

When he comes back to the table, I can’t keep my mouth shut. “You know I only tease you like that ’cause you’re awesome, right?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“No, I’m serious, Gabe. I’m sorry if you thought I was like minimizing anything. I just want you to not get so down on yourself,” I say, measuring my words carefully.

“I know. I’m working on it.”

“Cool.”

He nods and takes a deep breath. “Can you maybe help me with this Lea thing? I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Of course,” I say. “I’ll tutor you in stats and getting the ladies.”

“You’re such a dork,” he says. “Forget I asked. I’m going to get Bailey’s help.”

“No way!”

“Or Sam.”

“I score way more chicks than Bailey and Sam put together!”

He makes a dubious face and we move on to other topics.

Squirrel!

It smells like snow and I can’t remember where I hid all of my acorns.

The boy and girl are walking toward each other but don’t see each other yet and I hope they smile.

I think they’re going to smile.

I wonder if they know where all of my acorns went.

They get to the walkway of a building and they look at each other for a minute, just standing there in the cold.

“Hi, Gabe.”

“Hi, Lea.”

Then I remember that I hid them behind a gigantic bush last time I saw this boy and this girl. But last time I saw this boy and this girl they didn’t say anything to each other. Maybe now they’re going to be friends!

Acorns are my friends!

Inga (creative writing professor)

Something makes me look up from the paper I’m grading and through my office window I see Gabe and Lea standing outside red faced and smiling. I can’t believe they’re here at the same time. I feel giddy to the point that I should be embarrassed. No one should feel this invested in a couple they aren’t a part of.

I tell myself to be cool as I wait the endless moments for them to walk down the hallway to my office. Then I see him pull the door open for her.

“Hey, guys!” I say as they walk in.

“Hi,” Lea says.

Gabe waves.

“We, um. I mean, I am turning in my paper. I don’t know why Gabe is here,” Lea says, her face getting redder.

“I’m here to do that, too,” he jumps in.

“You guys didn’t come together?” I ask, my heart sinking a tiny bit.

“No, no, we ran into each other outside,” Lea explains. But she still can’t keep her eyes off Gabe as he goes through the folder in his backpack.

“Is it snowing out yet?” I ask, wanting to keep them here a little longer.

“No,” Lea says, shaking her head. “It smells like it could.”

“Like it could what?” Gabe asks, looking at Lea.

“Like it might snow,” she tells him.

“I didn’t know it was supposed to snow.”

“They said it might flurry,” she explains.

“It’s cold enough,” Gabe says.

I feel like I’m intruding on their conversation, mundane as it is, but they’re still both holding on to their final papers for dear life and I don’t want to interrupt them. For all I know I might have the chance to see them set up their first date right this very second. I look back and forth between them like it’s Wimbledon.

“Um, are you done with finals?” Lea asks. Be still my heart, I think she might actually be asking him to hang out right in front of me. I have never been lucky enough to be privy to this moment before. Calm down, Inga, be still, don’t scare them away.

He pulls off his beanie, revealing some impressive hat hair. “I, um, yes.”

“Are you going to be around tonight? I think my friends and I are going out.”

His shoulders droop and he frowns. “It was my birthday last week,” he says. “I promised my mom I would be home for dinner tonight. Because I didn’t see them then. She baked a cake and everything. I, uh, well…” He pauses, and I hope Lea can see how regretful he is. That he’s not making up an excuse.

“Happy birthday last week,” she says, smiling.

“Thanks,” he says, also smiling. Then he shakes out of his stupor. “We should hand in our papers.”

“Oh, yeah, duh,” Lea says, but she keeps her eyes on him an extra moment.

“No big deal. You guys are the first ones to make it in this morning,” I tell them.

They both smile, but keep shooting sidelong glances at each other as they hand me their finals.

“I hope you’re both going to take part two next semester. I think you’re great writers. I think you would benefit from the second part of this course. It’s designed with more of a workshop feel than the first part. More peer critiquing and discussion.”

Now it’s Gabe’s turn to blush. “Thank you,” he says, not looking at me.

“Thanks; I signed up,” Lea says.

“You did?” Gabe asks, turning toward her.

“Yeah.”

“I might, too,” he tells me.

“Good, then I’ll look forward to seeing you both in January.”

They leave after that, but they pause just outside the door so I get to hear a little more of their conversation.

“I am really sorry I can’t go out tonight,” he says, his voice so sheepish I can totally picture the face he’s making.

“That’s cool.”

He clears his throat. “Maybe, um, maybe some other time.”

She smiles. “Sure, I mean, the semester’s over, but there’s always next semester.”

“Yeah, or maybe I’ll see you next time Casey has a party or something. That would be … cool.” His voice is hard to make out because he’s speaking so quietly. I curse my windowless door. Although I realize I shouldn’t because I’m awfully lucky to have a window looking out to the green.

Their voices trail away down the hall.

I have a feeling there’s still a solid chance of them getting together. It’s just taking a little longer than I expected. But it’ll happen.

Maribel (Lea’s roommate)

“I want to get drunk tonight,” Bianca says resolutely as we’re walking to the bar.

“I’m pretty sure you’re well on your way there,” I say.

“Are you guys sure this is a good idea?” Lea asks for the millionth time.

“Yeah, of course. I asked around. This is the bar that never turns away fake IDs. Some of the bigger ones down the street follow the rules a lot closer, but as long as you have a decent fake, these guys just want to sell some liquor.”

“I feel like I might puke,” she says as we approach the door.

“You look like it, too,” I say.

She twists her gloved hands together nervously.

“Come on. How many times do I have to say this? I’ve already been here once, testing it out, and there were zero problems. Just don’t act so nervous.”

We walk in and the place is nearly full. It’ll be easy to get lost in the sea of faces as soon as we get past the bouncer. He barely even glances at our IDs before he waves us through. Lea smiles like someone has a gun to her back, but the guy must not be great at reading facial expressions.

We find a booth in the back, far from the bar, but quite frankly, who cares. At least we’re in.

I buy the first celebratory round and immediately notice that Gabe’s friend Casey is at the bar by himself, chatting with the bartender. I tip my chin toward him in a cool, hands-free greeting, and then head back to the girls with our drinks.

“Casey’s here,” I mutter.

“Casey as in Gabe’s Casey?” Lea asks, taking a sip through her straw.

“Yes.”

“Ah-may-zing!” Bianca says, slamming her fist on the table. “Maybe Gabe is here, too.” She starts twisting around, trying to catch sight of every last person in the bar.

“How much did you pregame?” I ask Bianca.

She gives me a look of pure crazy-eyes, which I translate to mean “a lot.”

When she offers to go up and get the next round, I keep a close eye on her. As soon as I realize that she’s talking to Casey, Lea and I are hot on her heels. Because who knows what she might end up saying.

“I know who you are,” she’s cooing as we approach.

“Oh yeah? Who am I?”

“You’re Gabe’s friend.”

His eyes light up. “That is correct. I’m Casey.”

“I’m Bianca, it’s my birthday,” she tells him as they shake hands.

“Happy birthday!”

“It’s not her birthday,” Lea says, rolling her eyes at Casey. He grins widely but seems to want to continue to play along.

“Thank you,” Bianca says with a smile and a bat of her eyelashes. “I want to talk to you about something, but I need you to remember that it’s my birthday and that I’m drunk.”

Casey looks expectantly at Lea and me, and we both shrug at him. Lea chews her thumbnail.

“All right, I’ll bite,” he says to Bianca. He sits up straight, folds his hands on the bar, and makes a very serious face.

“Are you making fun of me?” she asks.

“Is that what you want to talk about?”

“No,” she says, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“Maybe I’m making fun of you a little,” he says.

I have to admit that I think Casey is cute. He’s like a tall leprechaun, all freckles and red hair. I have no idea when that became my type.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asks.

“My friend Lea here,” Bianca starts.

Lea puts her hand over her eyes and tries to pull Bianca away.

“No,” Bianca says, smacking Lea’s hand ineffectually. “Fine. I want to talk to you about your friend Gabe.”

“Okay.”

Lea looks like she might throw up.

“Is Gabe gay?”

“Wait, what?”

“Gabe. Is he a homosexual?”

“Not that I know of,” Casey says with a smirk. “I’m pretty sure he’s straight.”

“Like how sure?”

“Like he talks about … girls.” Casey’s eyes flick to Lea for a fraction of a second.

“All right,” Bianca says. “Fair enough. Thank you for participating in this random survey.” Then she bows low and walks back to our booth.

Casey shakes his head and looks between Lea and me.

“I’m Lea and this is Maribel. Though I suppose you kind of already know that. Why am I so awkward?” she asks, turning toward me. I shrug.

Casey ignores her awkwardness and shakes our hands like nothing’s weird. And like our super-drunk friend didn’t just ask him if his friend was gay.

“It’s nice to meet both of you officially. I’ll see you around?” he asks as he pulls on his coat.

“Yeah, sure,” I say. I am so lame.

“You guys come to parties at my house, right?”

“Yeah, Maribel knows a guy who knows a guy,” Lea says. In fact, her voice is so flirtatious I feel this creeping sense of jealousy at her ease around Casey. I swallow it down.

“Well, we could exchange numbers? Cut out the middle man?” He says this directly to me and I’m so busy swallowing my jealousy I almost miss the moment.

“Oh, sure!” I say, handing him my phone.

And within seconds we’re back at the booth, numbers exchanged, and Bianca’s giggling uncontrollably.

“What?”

“I’m totally not that drunk,” she says. “But I figured if I could put on a good show, we might just get the information we’ve been looking for.”

Lea shakes her head. “You’re kind of an evil genius.”