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I nodded again. My brain was getting foggy. My already critical battery was starting to fail.
Coach called a goodbye to Landry and then slipped out the front.
Ryan and Rory came back from the kitchen, Rory’s cheeks almost as red as her hair. A satisfied glint shone in Ryan’s eyes, and his lips were looking used.
A wave of nausea rolled over me, only to be washed away by an overbearing wave of homesickness. I didn’t know you could be homesick for a person, but it was far worse than homesick for a place.
“P! Get over here and get some pizza,” Kruger called.
Ryan and Rory were already eating, and I took a sip of the caramel latte to try and fortify myself. “Actually, ah, I think I’m gonna shower.”
“It’s my chewing, isn’t it?” Jamie bemoaned.
“It’s your face,” Max retorted.
“I’m rubber and you’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.”
“Did you learn that in first grade?” Landry asked.
Jamie grinned. He had pepperoni in his teeth. “From Kruger. So same difference.”
Kruger gave him the finger. Times two.
I didn’t even have the energy to be amused. “Ah, no, just want to wash off the jail vibes,” I told the room.
“We’ll save you some,” Wes called.
I nodded, not bothering to tell them that once I shut myself in my room, I wasn’t coming out until tomorrow.
I noted Wes still watching me, and I realized I wasn’t done talking tonight. I gestured for him to follow and then cut my eyes to Lars.
Dropping his slice, Wes stood. “I need a soda. Lars, you want a coffee?”
“Rory got me one,” Lars said, holding up the cup.
“How about a shot of espresso to go with it?”
Lars glanced at me, and realization dawned in his crystal eyes. “I will never say no to espresso.”
“I’ll get it for you, angel.” Win started to stand.
Max slapped his hand on his shoulder and pushed him down. “Let him get his own.”
I exchanged a brief glance with Max, and more homesickness tossed itself up the back of my throat. I swallowed some coffee, trying to push it back down.
I guess he did represent my type. And that meant whenever I looked at him now, I would want Arsen.
I went into the kitchen, Wes and Lars trailing along behind me. On the counter was a Nespresso machine that the bros next door gave us as a housewarming gift. It was the same kind they had at their place. It brewed shots of espresso and cups of coffee depending on the pod you put in.
I gestured to it and the basket of pods beside it. “I don’t know how to use this yet,” I told Lars, sheepish.
I still used the familiar coffeemaker Kruger and I had used back in the dorm.
Lars had a shot of espresso brewing before I could even work up the nerve to speak.
“Is everything okay?” Wes asked over the steady shot pouring into a cup.
“I just wanted to thank you,” I said, meeting his stare.
