Page 16 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

I tell myself I’m content.

6

ACCIDENTALLY DISCOVERED CODING WHILE DRUNK

BEFORE

“So should we do introductions, life stories and shit?”

We’re meeting in the Lloyd dormitory lounge, right off an area Brody proudly introduced as Lower Crotch, and I can already tell this isn’t going to work. If we want to practice, and practice seriously, the Lloyd lounge is not the place to be.

In the five minutes we’ve been here, setting up our laptops and trying to get tables situated just so, three people have offered Brody beer, two have invited him to try different—but both fla-mazing—new video games, and one girl actually sat on Brody’s lap, whispering something in his ear and (I swear) sticking her hand briefly down his basketball shorts, in front of everyone and anyone who might be walking by, before laughing and saying in a breathless, flirty tone that makes her an OnlyFans shoo-in, “You sure?”

Lucas’s eyes, which mirror my shock/surprise though likely in a different ratio, meet mine briefly.

He clears his throat and his voice is tinged with embarrassment as he asks, “Girlfriend?”

“I don’t do girlfriends,” Brody answers, which only lowers my character assessment of Mr. Bro Dude, something I didn’t realize was possible. “But don’t worry, Emmaline’s not looking for a boyfriend.” He glances toward Lucas. “She asked if you’d like to join, afterward.”

Lucas turns a choke into an awkward cough and almost knocks over the chair. He takes out a half-finished work of origami, clearly a nervous tic, and closes his eyes briefly. “I have to work,” he answers finally.

Brody shrugs. “So, introductions?”

I point to Brody. “You’re Mr. Bro Dude, you love green drinks and the gym, must have accidentally discovered coding while drunk one day, and you’re majoring in pussy?”

Lucas half chokes again, but he recovers more quickly this time. “This is the team I put together,” he whispers under his breath, though it’s impossible to know whether it’s meant to reassure us or if he’s berating himself.

Brody lets out a bark of laughter. “Harsh. I’m actually a physics/math double because black holes are fucking awesome, and fun fact, Caltech was first to detect and record the noise from two black holes colliding. And maybe that’s not always as awesome as pussy, but I wasn’t sure if I could even say shit like that in mixed company. So thank you, Lorelai, for clearing that up for me.” He punches me on the arm to let me know he’s kidding, and okay, he’s a bit of a dick, but he’s more golden retriever than Doberman. I can work with this. “We sharing long-term goals too?”

Lucas nods slowly. “I think we’ll work better if we at least attempt to get to know one another.”

“You first,” I tell Brody. He’s clearly the best talker among us.

Brody gives an exaggerated shrug. “This science shit is a layover for me. I’m the youngest kid—in case you can’t tell from my attention-seeking antics—in a family that’s all law all the time, so I’m just here to smash atoms and blow shit up while I still can.”

“You’re prelaw at Caltech?” Lucas asks.

Brody makes a face that’s basically the nonverbal equivalent of Dude, disappointed in you. “No. There is no prelaw at Caltech. My parents said I could major in whatever the fuck I wanted as long as my GPA was high enough for T14 after.”

“T14?”

Lucas is pulling at the collar of his shirt, and it’s an effort not to roll my eyes as I answer for Brody. “Top fourteen law school.”

“Then why not go to UCLA? Or USC? Bigger parties, more, uh”—Lucas seems to talk himself through it, but then still decides against it—“girls.”

“I have a shit ton of friends at those schools. I’m always invited. But thus far? Those parties have been a slightly drunker extension of our high school scene. Caltech has geeky anime girls who can debate manga versus anime, who not only play video games but are—sometimes—into cosplay. It’s a totally untapped pool for me.”

“Lovely.” I shake my head, even though I’m not actually feeling judgmental. Seeing how quickly my (theoretically assigned to me because we’d be compatible even though in reality we’ve barely spoken) roommate goes through partners? Brody’s viewpoint isn’t exactly a minority one.

If anything, Lucas (who apparently can’t or won’t even say the word pussy) and I are the sexual outliers on campus. In that we don’t seem to be indulging in any multipronged partner swap.

Or attending parties.

Or have any visible traces of a life outside of school.

Oblivious to the way I’m psychoanalyzing him, Lucas goes back to Christopher’s email on potential icebreakers during our first team meeting, all of which were clearly stolen from an online HR exercise. “So your life goal is?”

“In a word? Fun. I’ve got to squeeze every second of joy out of my youth before I suit up and my sphincter tightens into a walnut.”