"You marked me."
"I what?" Dutchy spins around from looking out Race's window, then takes a look at me and grins. "Oh. So I did. Wow, would ya look at that thing?" He laughs. "Sorry about that."
I laugh and roll my eyes. "You're proud of yourself, aren't you?"
He leans against the wall and takes a sip of his drink. "A little bit, yeah." I stick my tongue out at him, and then steal his cup and taste the liquid inside. No weird juice this time, just bitter-tasting, probably very cheap beer. I grimace and shove the drink back at him. He smirks. "What, no completely-loaded Specs tonight?"
"Not on that shit, no," I shake my head and look around for something, anything to get that taste out of my mouth. I settle for a handful of potato chips, not really caring if they're kosher or not.
"So, Specs," Racetrack materializes beside me and drapes an arm around my shoulders. It's really quite a feat, considering his height and apparent inebriation. "Who is it that gave you your little love-bite?" He grins and turns my head to examine my neck. His breath reeks of alcohol. "You are the talk of the town tonight."
I pull my chin from his hand and roll my eyes.
"Come on, Specs, who was it?"
"Your mother, Race."
Race makes an attempt to clock me in the jaw but ends up slapping me lamely in the chest. He wanders off at the call of Spot, who is across the room playing a game of quarters with a couple of girls.
"Nice one," Dutchy says, looking around our immediate area. "You're kinda hot when you're sarcastic."
It means a lot to me that he says this. It means he's attracted to me. This is good. I lean in to kiss him, but he puts his cup between us, taking a long, deliberate drink.
"What's wrong?" I ask when he lowers the cup.
"Not here, okay?"
I blink, my eyebrows drawing together. "Why?" I'm so confused. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, Specs, I... look, just not here, alright?"
I lean back against Race's bed, a little bit hurt and more than a little concerned. I look around to see Blink and Mush staring at us, shaking their heads. "I think... I think that I'm going to go back to my room now. I'm kind of tired."
"Specs, come on."
But I'm already out the door.
I'm curled up in bed with my pillow clamped over my ears to block out the noise from across the hall. I haven't even bothered with an attempt to sleep, but settled for lying in the dark and sulking. Stewing, if you will.
My door opens and I assume it's one of my piss-drunk roommates coming in to either harass me or pass out in bed. I feel pressure on my mattress, but am too busy pouting to find out what's going on.
My sudden bedmate lays down beside me, his chest pressed to my back, his arm snaking around my waist. I recognize him by his sweet, comforting scent before he even says anything.
"Don't be mad," he whispers, pulling the pillow away from me. I stay silent. "Come on, Specs." He nuzzles his head into my neck, and I try my hardest not to melt. "We talked about this. If people saw us, if they found out..."
"I know," I sigh, closing my eyes. I put my hand over his and squeeze, smiling a little to myself. "I know."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's okay, I guess."
"Thanks."
We stay like this for a while. It's so comfortable, so sweet, I lose track of time. We're both drifting off to sleep when the door swings open and the light flicks on.
"Huh," Jack says, standing in the flood of light. "Well, isn't this quite the image?"
Spot comes in, then snorts and walks back out. David walks in and takes his place.
"What the hell?"
Dutchy rolls over, heavy with sleep, blinks. "Oh... guys... I... we..."
David's eyes are burning. "What the fuck, Dutchy, you're supposed to be dating my sister. Or is she not enough for you?"
I sit up. "David, calm down."
He turns to me, glaring. "Don't you fucking tell me to calm down! You're in this too!"
Dutchy stands up, pushing past Jack and David. "I'm just gonna go. We'll talk about this tomorrow. I'll see you, Specs."
And he leaves me with two roommates who will never let me live this down, and one who will probably kill me in my sleep.