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“Spencer told me something very interesting,” she murmurs.
“Is that so?” I ask, careful not to convey too much.
“Yes, that is so,” she smiles, coming even closer.
“What was it?”
She presses both her lips together, sucking in her cheeks as though swallowing, hard.
“Something about teamwork? Something about… the four of you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, you guys,” she scolds me. “Always pretending you don’t know what I mean. Well, I’m curious. You guys share? Girlfriends? I mean… One girlfriend at a time? For all four of you?”
My mouth goes dry. I search her face, trying to figure out what she thinks about this arrangement.
I didn’t love it at first, to be honest. I always thought of myself as a more traditional kind of guy. But freshman year, we had a hard time getting our acts together on the field. Four girlfriends pulling us all in different directions made a mess. There was drama at all different times, there were hurt feelings, there were side conversations between girlfriends with feelings of jealousy and all kinds of static like that.
When Spencer first mentioned it to us, we thought he was crazy.
And the first girlfriend almost proved it. Tricia and Trevor had been dating since high school. She was the only one left after the other three ejected themselves from our lives for various reasons. Sturdy and practical, Tricia was so dedicated to Trevor, she would’ve done anything to keep him.
Spencer talked her into it, the way he talks so many people into so many things. But after a few… encounters… Tricia realized she couldn’t cut the mustard. She backed out, leaving us without a female companion for a long time.
We regrouped, strategized, and found a few partners over the last few years who were at least willing to drift into our lives for a brief time. But none of them really have the staying power to stick it out.
I blame them. It’s a lot. One of us would be a lot. Four of us is… a football team.
Out of the corner of my eye, as though I somehow summoned her here, I see Tricia approach and then suddenly stop up short. She looks startled, almost frightened.
Lindy turns, following my gaze.
Tricia blinks a few times and then hurries into the sculpture building, her cheeks flaming red.
“How do you know Tricia?” Lindy smirks.
“How doyouknow Tricia?” I counter.
She shrugs one shoulder, exposing a creamy wedge of flesh, making me regret that I didn’t take the opportunity when I had it.
“She’s nice,” Lindy answers breezily. “We had a graphic design class together last semester. But she sure looks like she knows you. Did you guys have a fight?”
“What? No,” I object, though I have to wonder if we did.
Was there a fight? There must’ve been. Why don’t I remember it that way? I guess I wasn’t really emotionally invested.
“Well, she certainly looks startled to see us together,” Lindy remarks.
“She certainly does,” I agree.
“Do you think I should keep an eye on her?” Lindy asks sarcastically. “Do you think she’s the mad stalker? Should I interrogate her or something?”
“Um, probably not,” I chuckle. “She went to high school with Trevor. She’s a nice girl.”
“Oh,” Lindy mumbles uncomfortably. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just being glib. I still think this is all very weird.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
