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“Grab a controller and let’s chat before Koa gets in.”
“Wasn’t lying when I said I’ve never played.” To me,games are a time suck.
“Contrary to popular belief, you can teach an old dog new tricks, man.” JT chuckles.
I flop down on the couch opposite them, without grabbing a controller. “I was under the impression we needed to talk about Koa.”
“Also, contrary to popular belief, men can do two things at once.” Dash adds, “Fuck, man, you killed me.”
Growing frustrated, I open my phone app to the TV controller and power the damn thing off. “I didn’t come back here to watch you two play games.”
“Chill, Rivera.” JT laughs. “You don’t always have to be in the library or at the gym.”
“I was with Riley,” I correct his assumption, even though that’s exactly where I’d normally be … until Riley. “So, let’s do this, because I was planning on being here when he got out of class, drag him to the game tonight, and then to the party at 673 Athens Lane to keep him busy.”
“Like that idea, but what if he says fuck that and wants to stay back?” Dash, who knows him better than any of us, asks.
“Guess we come up with a schedule of who’s doing what and when so we can make sure he’s always got one of us around to chill with or—”
“Get fucked up with and sing karaoke?” JT chuckles.
I nod. “Whatever it takes. He’s hurting, and we’re who he has here at Lincoln.”
“He wants to stay back from the game, I’m down,” Dash offers. “And the party, I’m skipping that, too.”
JT smirks. “Gotta ask if it has something to do with a hot blonde who—”
“Chick is crazy and, typically, I work well with crazy, but she hit a level well above batshit, and I’m not cool with that.” Dash’s eyes widen.
“Hoping you didn’t lead her on then,” I give a slight warning because even though Leah can be a bitch, she’s Riley’s friend.
“Rivera, I can promise you I did no such thing.” The fact he looks serious and a little frightened at her mention leads me to believe he’s giving it to me straight.
I stand up. “I’m gonna run to the store and grab a wall calendar. We can all add our shit on there before he gets back and play it off like it’s something we talked about before the breakup.”
* * *
An hour and a half later,I get a text from an unknown number as I’m cutting up vegetables to roast.
I pick up the phone and open the text. It’s a meme that says:
Grammar
The difference between
knowing your shit, and knowing you’re shit.
Smiling, I hit her back.
Me:
So what’s the verdict, Riley Park?
Her:
How do you know it’s Riley Park?
Me:
