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“I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem…right? Like I’m not supposed to talk about the case to anyone, and the jury’s not even supposed to talk about the case until we start to deliberate, so I don’t think asking another juror out is exactly okay. It might look like we’re colluding or something.”
“You are way too ethical,” Roman says, and signals to a passing waiter for another round for the table.
“Probably.”
“But you’re still going to ask him out, right?” Min asks.
I can’t keep the grin off my face. “He’s really gorgeous. I’d be an idiot not to at least ask.”
Avyaan and Nick high-five. “I’m amending the bet,” Avy says. “Five bucks that Nick gets a date before Ty.”
“Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing as my friends take up the bet and say whether they think it’s going to be Nick or me who gets a date first. When everyone’s chimed in, I’m happy to see I’ve come out with more votes in my favor.
Nick shrugs when Sasha points it out to him. “Since Ty’s already got someone in mind, I don’t think it’s really a fair bet,” he says.
“Uh huh,” Sash says. “Just gives you incentive, man.”“And when has he needed incentive?” Min asks. She turns to Nick. “What’s the longest you’ve gone without sex since you were a sophomore?”
“Maybe two weeks,” Nick says, scrunching up his face in a way we all know is him trying to remember.
“I rest my case,” Min says. “I’m Team Nick.”
There’s a bit more good-natured teasing, and then our conversation moves on to other topics. Dan nudges me again and dips his head toward me so we can talk without being overheard.
“You really like this guy, huh?”
No point in denying it, so I don’t. “There’s something about him. Like he’s kind of uptight, but the way he looked at me after I ran into him…” I shiver. “It just did something to me, and I’d like to get to know him better.”
“Good luck,” Dan tips his glass to me. “I’ve got five bucks riding on you. Don’t disappoint me.”
A bit later, after we’ve had a few more drinks and some food, Nick’s chatting some dude up in the corner, and I check my phone and see I’ve got a notification from Patreon that I’ve picked up a new subscriber.
“Holy shit!” Yeah, I yelled that loud enough for all my friends to ask me what’s up. I show my phone to Dan. “Cameron started supporting me on Patreon.”
Avy grabs my phone. “This is sweet. Looks like you’ve landed yourself a sugar daddy.”
“Dude,” I say, taking my phone back. “Five bucks a month does not a sugar daddy make.”
“Yo, Nick,” Min yells over to him. “You might want to step it up a bit. Ty’s guy just made a move!”
Nick flips her the finger and keeps talking to the guy, while I take a look at Cameron’s Insta account again. There’s a new pic of his dinner. It’s time-stamped sixteen minutes ago, and fuck me, it’s from a place just down the street.
When I look up at my friends, they’re all staring at me, and I realize I shouted out loud again. I gather up everyone who’s put money on me and ask what they think I should do. They decide the best course of action is for all of us to decamp and stroll toward the restaurant where Cameron is eating and casually bump into him. Of course, this probably means waiting around until he exits the restaurant, but my friends are up for it. I’m half embarrassed and half excited as they push me out the door. Avy and Min hang back to settle the tab but catch up with us a couple of blocks away.
Nick’s brought the guy he was chatting up, and now has his arm slung around the guy’s shoulder. They’re whispering together at the back of the group, and when I see Nick stroke the guy’s cheek with his index finger, I know I’ve got to step up my game. Not that I’m competitive or anything. It’s just that Nick has always been the popular guy, the gorgeous one, the rock star in our group who has no trouble finding partners and hookups, and I’d love to be the one to end up with a date first.
I’ll also admit, the bet has kind of spurred me on to make a move with Cameron. If it were up to me, I’d probably spend the next couple of days thinking about him, spinning out fantasies that will only end up as reality for my characters, and then let him drift away at the end of the trial without even getting a phone number. So, this is a good thing. Or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself as my group of friends and I troop up Grant toward Cameron’s restaurant.
As we near our destination, my courage falters. This is ridiculous. Something that sounded good after a couple of drinks but is going to end up with me making a fool of myself and cringing through the rest of the trial as I’m forced to sit next to Cameron and relive every moment of my impending humiliation.
I turn around to tell everyone that we need to go somewhere else. I’m in mid-sentence when someone runs into my back, and wheel around so fast I nearly give myself whiplash. And then do a double take because the person who ran into me is, of course, Cameron.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I blurt, and watch Cameron’s expression shift from surprise to elation to embarrassment.
“Who’d you run into this time, Cam?” asks a woman standing behind him. She’s short, with dark hair, wearing dark jeans and floral print Doc Martens, a black T-shirt under a jean jacket on which are fastened all sorts of pins: rainbows and equality pins, unicorns, a she/her pronoun pin. She comes around Cameron’s side and a grin crosses her face as she takes me in. “I see. Would you happen to be Tyler?” she asks and holds out her hand. “I’m Marney.”
I’m struck dumb, and Cameron’s face has moved from faintly pink to beet red, the tint rapidly climbing to the tips of his ears.
Dan comes to my rescue. “He is Tyler. I’m Dan, and…” he introduces the rest of the crowd while Cameron and I continue to stare at each other. There’s a shuffling of people around us as my friends gather closer and introduce themselves to Marney. They’d introduce themselves to Cameron as well, but he’s still staring at me, and I’m still trying to get my brain to reconnect to my mouth. It doesn’t help that everyone is staring at the both of us waiting for something to happen, which almost guarantees that Cameron and I will continue to stand like awkward statues.
