“Good,” I answer. “How are you?”
“Happy the guys are back. They played well tonight,” she says, looking up at Benson. Her hand comes to his chest and pats it.
“Yeah,” I agree. “They did.”
Stanley whispers to my ear, “He’s watching us.”
I stiffen, realizing that Lucy is still watching me. I stare forward, and then Gianna walks over with her head tilted. I can tell that she’s had one too many to drink.
“Aspen Linwood and Stan the man?”
Benson mutters, “G.”
She ignores him.
“Are you two dating?” Gianna scoffs, looking at Stanley’s hand on my back. Mara comes up beside her and looks between us. “Stanley,thisis who you’ve been hiding?”
He shakes his head when I look up at him to see how he’s going to handle this. “I haven’t been hiding anything.”
Her eyes narrow, and Benson steps in. “We should go.”
“What?” Gianna scoffs. “No, I need to know when this started.How.”
Benson and Lucy grab Gianna. “Another time,” Lucy says, offering me a small smile.
I smile back as inthanksorbye. I’m not sure which one, but I’m relieved I don’t have to answer any questions right now.
I feel eyes on us around the room, so I look around and catch Gavin staring. He’s looking at Stanley’s hand on my back. He swigs his beer, and then he nods at me.
I inhale, watching him walk away. He wants nothing more to do with me now that I’m visibly someone else’s, and I can’t decide whether the relief I feel is a good sign or not.
Kirra and Bree come up to us and stare at Stanley. “Sorry, Aspen. We were outside doing keg stands. Are you okay?”
I glare at my two roommates and say quietly, “I want to go home.”
They look at me and then at Stanley. “Already? I wanted to dance.”
Bree says, “Why don’t you just go? We’ll find our own ride.”
“Are you serious?” I whisper.
Stanley wraps an arm around my neck now and says, “You heard the girls. They’ll find their own ride, so what do you say?”
I turn to them, and they both say in unison, “We’re sure.”
I roll my eyes and look up at Stanley. “Ready?”
He nods and turns to look for his friends. They’re already leaving.
The car is quiet for two whole blocks, and that, alone, is the most alarming thing that’s happened tonight.
Stanley Ermington does not do quiet. He fills every room he enters with the sound of himself. He narrates his own life like the whole world is the broadcast booth. And he currently has his head tilted back against my passenger seat, staring at the ceiling of my car without saying a word.
I make it another block.
“Are you going to be able to handle him?” I say it to the windshield. “All weekend?”
He doesn’t turn his head. “Gavin?”
